Like . . . really flirting.
“I give as good as I get, Mr. Stevens. You give me a real answer, I’ll give you one.”
He turns in his seat, facing me. “Okay, how about we play pool and loser has to answer the question?”
“You know I’ll kick your ass,” I boast. “Just save us both the time and tell me now.”
Connor throws his head back and laughs. It’s . . . beautiful. When his dark eyes meet mine again, they’re filled with happiness, and my heart feels full at the sight of him.
“Okay, Miss Smack-talker. Maybe I’ll make a comeback tonight, huh?”
“Doubtful,” I tease as I slide off the stool.
“We’ll see,” he murmurs as he follows me to the back where the pool tables are.
It’s ten minutes later. Connor is grinning ear to ear. I’m not kidding; he’s grinning so hard my face hurts just looking at him. I haven’t moved at all in two minutes. I’m still standing here like an idiot, holding my pool stick. Connor not only kicked my ass at pool, he annihilated me. I didn’t even get to shoot. Well, I broke, but I didn’t sink one ball.
“Demi?” Lexi calls as she approaches, but I don’t respond. I still can’t speak. “You just got your ass kicked,” she points out. She watched the entire ass-kicking take place—all two minutes of it.
“Just give her a minute, Lex,” Connor advises. “She’s still processing.” The lilt in his voice can’t be missed. He’s loving every minute of this.
Before I can respond, Dusty approaches and pats Connor on the back. “Still hustling I see.”
Connor shoots his gaze to me, still grinning, “She was a worthy adversary.”
I can’t help it. I start giggling, more out of disbelief than humor. He really did hustle me. I can’t believe it. “You let me win last time?”
“Let is not the word I would use,” he says, as he chalks his pool stick.
“Oh really? What word would you use?” I retort.
“Damn,” Dusty grumbles and Connor and I both follow his line of sight. Lexi is standing on the bar, dancing. My brows rise a bit, but not in shock. Lexi dances on bars all the time, but how quickly she got to the bar surprises me. Wasn’t she just standing right here? “Excuse me,” Dusty mumbles as he leaves Connor and me to our dispute and heads toward the bar.
“So . . .” Connor preens, fighting a smile.
“So . . .” I reply.
“I think we made a deal, didn’t we?”
My heart starts thundering in my chest. Why does the idea of telling Connor what I want in bed excite me and terrify me all at once? And how in the hell did we even get on this topic? Oh, I asked . . . that’s right.
I swallow and push some of my hair behind my ear. The heat on my face could probably fry an egg right now. I haven’t moved from the place I’ve been standing. I’m still planted on the spot holding my pool stick like an idiot.
“Okay, well . . .” I begin, nervously.
When he rounds the pool table to get closer, I stumble back. I’m about to share my sexual desires with him while he’s standing close. When he reaches me, he pulls me close and turns us so that my back is to the pool table. I immediately sit on the edge, hoping I look as casual as he does, but something tells me I look like a puppy being scolded. He smiles softly at me and leans down, placing both hands on the edge of the pool table on either side me. When the side of his face touches mine, his cheek to mine, my breath hitches.