The Edge of Never, Wait For You, Rule: Scorching Summer Reads 3 Books in 1. J. Lynn
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Название: The Edge of Never, Wait For You, Rule: Scorching Summer Reads 3 Books in 1
Автор: J. Lynn
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9780007542949
isbn:
“My finger slipped.” I look at him coyly.
He shakes his beautiful head at me and narrows his eyes, knowing full-well I’m lying.
Finally, we just go at it: he sinks three balls flawlessly, one turn after the next, before missing the 7. I sink another one. Then he sinks one. And we do this back and forth, taking our time with each shot, but both of us missing every now and then to keep the game going.
Now it’s down to business. It’s my turn and the only balls left on the table are his 4, the cue and the 8. The 8 is six inches too far from a perfect corner shot in either direction, but I know I can bank it on one side of the table and let it come back to this side and sink it in the left.
Two more guys have started watching, no doubt because of the way I’m dressed (I’ve been listening to their quiet comments about my ‘t-n-a’ the whole time, especially when I bend over to take a shot), but I don’t let them distract me. Though, I’ve noticed Andrew’s eyes on them a lot and it excites me that he’s at all jealous.
I point my stick at the table and call it, “Left pocket.”
I move around to the side and crouch down at eye-level with the table to see if my lining is off. I stand back up and check the lining of the cue and the 8 again from another perspective and then lean over the table. One. Two. Three. On the fourth slide-back, I smack the cue gently and it hits the 8 at just the right angle, sending it against the right side of the table where it bounces back a few inches over and sinks flawlessly into the left pocket.
The few guys watching on the other side of me make various noises of tamed excitement as if I can’t hear them.
Andrew is on the other side of the table grinning wide at me.
“You’re good, babe,” he says racking the balls again. “I guess you’re free now.”
I can’t help but notice that he seems a little sad about that fact. His face may be smiling, but he can’t hide the disappointment in his eyes.
“Nah,” I say, “I don’t want that freedom unless it comes to eating bugs or hanging my ass out the car window—I kind of like you being in control of the rest.”
Andrew smiles.
We play another game, which he wins fairly, and afterwards I decide to sit back down at our table before these new shoes start rubbing blisters on my feet. I’m on my second Heineken and still am only feeling it in my toes and the bottom of my stomach. It’ll take another one to get me a good buzz.
“Want a game, man?” a guy asks stepping up to Andrew just as he starts to sit down with me.
Andrew looks over and I wave him on.
“Go on, I’m fine—gonna check my messages and rest my feet for a while.”
“Alright, babe,” he says, “just let me know if you’re ready to go before I’m done and we’ll go.”
“I’m good,” I say, urging him, “go on and play.”
He smiles in at me and walks back over to the table not more than fifteen feet away. I get my purse from underneath the table and set it in front of me, rummaging inside in search of my phone.
Just as I suspected: Natalie has blown my phone up with text messages, sixteen in all, but at least she hasn’t tried to call. My mom hasn’t called, either, but I remember she was going on that cruise with her new boyfriend this weekend. I hope she’s having a great time. I hope she’s having as great a time as I am.
A new song starts funneling through the speakers in the ceiling and I notice the amount of people inside the bar has tripled since we got here. Even though Andrew isn’t that far away, I can only see his lips moving when he says anything to the guy he’s shooting pool with. The waitress comes back and I ask for another beer and she goes off to get it, leaving me to the Text Message Queen. Natalie and I go back and forth a few times about what she did today and where she’s going tonight, but I know it’s all just filler-conversation, taking the place of what she’s dying to know more about: me in New Orleans with this ‘mystery guy’, who he looks like (not ‘what’ because she always compares guys to famous people) and if I’ve ‘bent over for him’ yet. I keep everything vague just to torture her. She still deserves it, after all. Besides, I’m still not ready to go into Andrew with her. Or with anyone, really. It’s like if I talk about him at all, even just to confirm he exists and that I’m with him, that this whole experience will go up in a puff of smoke. I’ll jinx it. Or, I’ll wake up and realize that Blake slipped something in one of the drinks he served me that night before I went out onto the roof with him and I’ve just been hallucinating this entire road trip with Andrew.
“I’m Mitchell,” a voice says above me, accompanied by a strong waft of whiskey and cheap men’s cologne.
The guy is of average build, the buff-but-not-too-buff kind. His eyes are bloodshot like the blond-haired guy standing next to him.
I smile back squeamishly and glance at Andrew who is already walking this way.
“I’m with someone,” I say gently.
The buff guy looks at the other chair and then back at me as if to make note of how empty it is.
“Camryn?” Andrew says standing behind them. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say.
The buff guy turns at the waist to see Andrew.
“She said she’s fine,” he says and I hear the challenge in his voice.
I didn’t mean ‘I’m fine, leave me alone, Andrew’ and Andrew knows as much, but these guys apparently do not.
“She’s with me,” Andrew says, trying to remain calm, though probably only for my sake—he already has that unmistakable look of aggression in his eyes.
The blond guy laughs.
The buff guy looks at me again, a bottle of Budweiser in one hand. “Is he your boyfriend or something?”
“No, but we’re—”
The buff guy smiles tauntingly and looks back at Andrew, cutting me off. “You’re not her boyfriend, so back off, man.”
Aggression just shifted into murderous rampage. Andrew isn’t going to be able to hold back much longer.
I stand up.
“Maybe she wants to talk to us,” the buff guy says and takes another swig of his beer. He doesn’t look drunk, just buzzed.
Andrew steps up closer and cocks his head to one side, staring the guy down. Then he looks at me:
“Camryn, do you want to talk them?”
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