“What?” His forehead scrunches up, confusion written all over that pretty face.
“You heard me. I want something that represents me. Something beautiful. I trust you.” As I’m saying it, I realize how true it is. Dare is covered in beautiful. I trust his taste. He’s also insanely talented.
“You sure about that?” Dare asks, his voice a little raspier than before. I nod, looking deep into his eyes to convey my sincerity.
The door dings, effectively breaking the moment. Dare excuses himself to greet the customer, who’s a walk-in, and I opt to hang out with Cordell to pass the time.
“Wanna shoot some pool?” Cord asks, handing me a bottle of beer from the fridge.
“Depends on if you can handle being beat by a girl.”
“I’ll try my best,” Cord says, laughing. I might be exaggerating my skills, but I’m decent. I practically grew up in the shithole bars that Crystal dragged us to while she was on the hunt for men, money, drugs, or a combination of the three. Jess was too young to realize what was going on, so I made it fun for him by letting him pick the songs on the free jukebox and playing pool.
Jess actually got so good that he was hustling grown ass men by the age of seven. They were very drunk men who were shit at pool in the first place, but it was impressive nonetheless. Naturally, Crystal saw an opportunity and tried to use him to her advantage. That’s when I started insisting we stay home. We could scheme and hustle all day long, but I wasn’t going to let her benefit. I never understood why we had to go with her in the first place. I was eleven, but I’d been babysitting Jess since the ripe old age of seven. It didn’t occur to me until later that maybe we were unknowingly part of her scheming. People always felt bad for kids and animals. If only she’d had a dog…
I lean forward and break, making my shot. “I call solids.”
Cord’s eyes widen just a little. “Lucky shot.”
“Totally.” I laugh.
I’m rusty and intoxicated, but I end up winning the first game, which prompts Cordell to declare, “Best two out of three.” He wins the second, and then the third, but it was a close game.
“BOOM!” he yells, throwing his hands in the air. Dare must be finished, because he shows up, looking between the two of us. “I won,” he explains to Dare. I roll my eyes.
“Only because I scratched on the eight ball.”
“Aw, don’t be a sore loser.” He throws an arm around my shoulders, turning his attention to Dare. “Your girl here has mad skills.”
“You have no idea.”
His insinuation, along with the fact that he didn’t deny me being “his girl,” has my stomach flipping with anticipation. As if reading the look in my eyes, Dare reaches for my hand and pulls me toward him.
“You have your keys?” he asks Cordell.
“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here.”
Dare drags me through the shop, and I practically have to run to keep up. I stop to admire Sutton’s tattoo for half a second before she waves me off, telling me she’ll show me tomorrow. We’re almost to the truck when Dare asks me where my coat is.
“Shit. I left my stuff at Blackbear.” How was that only earlier today? It’s been the longest day ever.
“Wait in the truck.”
A minute later, he’s back, bags in hand. He tosses me my jacket, shoving the rest into the back seat. I put it on and zip it up to my chin.
“Good?”
“It’s perfect.”
Dare gives a brusque nod before starting the truck.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to keep thanking me,” he says, scratching at the hair at the back of his neck, his signature move when he feels uncomfortable.
“I want to.” And I plan to thank him in other ways tonight.
The rest of the ride is filled with sexual tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. I know exactly what’s going to happen when we get to his house. Hell, the whole shop knows exactly what’s going to happen.