Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
After a couple of turns, falling three points behind Khalil, I start to get serious. When I hit two numbers during one turn, the men think it’s luck, but I keep up that pattern, easily passing Khalil, and when I hit three consecutive numbers during one turn, they cry foul.
“You didn’t tell us you were a dart shark!” Khalil says, pulling the darts from the board.
“A dart shark?”
“You’ve obviously played before,” Shane accuses.
I aim a sweet smile in his direction. “Never said I hadn’t.”
While still maintaining his good humor, Khalil gets serious about his playing, but he can’t catch me, and he’s on sixteen when I beat him with a bullseye.
“Good game,” he says, holding out a hand. When I shake it, he pulls me against him in a brief hug. “I’m lucky we weren’t playing for money.”
“Now there’s an idea,” I say, smiling, ignoring how the rumble of his voice tickles the skin on my neck.
“Who do you want to play next?” Khalil asks.
That’s an easy question. “Shane,” I say, gesturing for him to come over.
He slides off the barstool he’d been on. “You won’t be so lucky this game,” he says, grinning.
“You’re the one who’s going to need luck,” I say.
“Ooh, let the smack talk begin!” Khalil says, laughing.
27
Starting to lose my mind
I beat Shane easily. He’s all bluster and bravado, but I’ve got the skills.
Having been defeated by me, Khalil actually roots for Shane during the game, a welcome show of camaraderie after how the two of them behaved last night. It’s a relief not to see any tension between them now.
To Shane’s credit, he takes his loss well. “I’ll get you next time,” he says. “Good game.”
I challenge Devin next, and after a close game throughout, he ends up beating me, with Khalil and Shane playfully cheering him on.
“I guess I got lucky,” Devin says modestly, though it’s clear he’s a strong player.
“The beer must be softening my aim,” I tease.
“Want another?” he asks, looking at my empty bottle.
I shake my head. “I’m sure you all need to get to sleep. I’m getting tired, too.” It’s actually been a ridiculously long day, but this was a nice way to end it.
We play again the next night, and the one after that. Shane’s skills improve every night, and I joke that he spends all of his time practicing when I’m at work.
Marcos turns out to be a good player, too, and the five of us spend several fun nights engaged in lively competition.
Probably tired of losing, Shane suggests a game of pool one night. I’m nowhere near as good at that game, but I’m decent enough to hold my own. The biggest drawback is trying not to watch the men’s bodies as they bend to line up their cue sticks, the muscles in their arms, shoulders, and backs flexing as they take their shots. It’s not an athletic game, but it shows off their physiques quite well. Too well.
These game nights have been a good time, but also a bit of torture. Much as I hated parts of our truth or dare game, I enjoyed the kiss, and it’s hard not to think about it when I see Marcos’s intense gaze as he plots his move on the pool table.
Nor can I stop remembering what it was like to be with Shane and Khalil when I’m confronted with their gorgeous faces and bodies every night. Meanwhile, Devin continues to be the sweetest, nicest man I’ve ever met, behaving as if he’s completely unaware of how incredibly good looking he is.
To make matters worse, I’m not hooking up with any of the vacationers who are now coming into Rusty’s regularly, and I’m starting to become quite bothered by it all. Hot and bothered.
On my next night off, I offer to make dinner for the guys. I have my own food in their refrigerator, but they still often save a portion for me of whatever they have for dinner, so I want to do something nice to return all of their favors.
After eating a lot of their meals, I have a pretty good idea of what they like. Unfortunately, with my cooking skills being what they are, there’s not a lot of overlap between what they like to eat and what I trust myself to cook.
I decide on a taco night, and buy all of the ingredients while they’re working on site at Rusty’s. I even get margarita fixings, thanks to extra tip money I’ve earned from all of the tourists coming into the bar.
Wanting to allow myself extra time, I get started in the late afternoon cutting strawberries for dessert, and dicing tomatoes and avocados. It’s slow going, since I still forget where some things are in their giant kitchen, and I had no idea how hard it was to deal with fresh avocados. I should have bought a tub of prepared guacamole.