Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Emma, a woman Ducky went to high school with, came to the edge of the bar and pulled out a chair to sit on the other side of Chad. Her elbow went to the middle of the bar. She put her head in her hand, all her attention focused on Chad. “You know, I was really upset with you for being so rude about Ducky. Then here you come, strolling in with Ducky like y’all are best friends. I think we’re gonna need to know what happened if you want a shot at forgiveness.” She tried her best to look playfully menacing. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder at the rest of the patrons in the bar as if they were in on her distaste. “You should also know, I’ve said some pretty bad things about you on Secret.”
Chad nodded solemnly, as if taking her threat seriously. “I think I became the most hated man in the world for a minute there.”
“Oh yeah,” another customer piped in from a table behind them. Ducky glanced over his shoulder, lifting his chin at another familiar face. “He needs to explain himself before we all sit in here like nothing happened.”
Ducky opened his mouth to respond, not liking how they put Chad on blast, but Chad laughed and lifted a hand to Ducky, indicating he’d take care of this. He turned in his seat toward the entire bar as if braving a firing squad. “Okay. Okay. Let me plead my case. This is what really happened…”
In a series of events that had become genuinely real and authentic, Chad chalked this exact moment up as being his new number one favorite memory of the night. Ducky expertly aligned his body with the dartboard and sent the dart flying.
As with all the others he threw before, it landed exactly where Ducky chose it to, solidly beating Chad at their game.
The bar-goers watched and cheered for Ducky, not nearly as surprised at Ducky’s skill as Chad. “Wait. Unfair. I’ve been hustled,” he complained loudly, only making the cheers grow louder.
Ducky’s side grin, the one he gave while trying to hide his humor, shot over his shoulder toward him and the rest of his adoring audience before he turned away from the floor mark and came back to their table. Ducky shrugged as he took his stool, sliding on top. “I can teach you how to play if you want.”
The comeback hit as intended. Chad barked out a laugh as he lifted his glass of ice water, taking a drink to help swallow his defeat. “Yeah, yeah. You’re hiding so many secrets. All these years and I never heard one single word about you being a dartist. You know, I’m considered a decent player in some circles.”
Ducky’s loud laugh revealed how hilarious he found that statement, which had a twofold effect on Chad. One of the things he’d always liked about Ducky was that bold laugh. It spoke of many things. This time though was Chad’s second issue. The hilarity of the laugh made it clear that Ducky didn’t believe Chad had any skill at darts.
“Okay, okay,” Chad lifted his hands in surrender, giving a playful eye roll. “I might need you to give me a lesson or two. How’d you get so good?”
“While your dad was gently teaching you the love of sports, my dad taught all three of us how to hustle. We shoot pool, play cards, and throw darts. He’d teach us just enough to still beat us soundly every time we got together. We all got super competitive. Don’t ever let Dallas corner you in a game of pool. I’m better at darts. My oldest brother Donny is a card shark,” Ducky explained, lifting his almost empty glass, letting the ice cubes fall into his mouth. He chomped on those, discarding the glass back on the table. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom then I should head home. I’m exhausted.”
His gaze followed Ducky’s retreat until he disappeared down the hall leading to the bathroom. He released a pent-up sigh and turned back in his seat. More than anything, he wished he could toss the contents of his glass of ice water onto his heated face. The strain of all his unrequited desire was taking its toll. He needed to move, walk off this hard-on, if that were even possible.
Chad left their table, walking a measured twenty steps back to the bar top to settle their bill. Interestingly, those steps didn’t help relieve anything.
The judgment he’d been hit with when they first arrived had dissolved into a really nice time. These people were as genuine as Ducky. They had easily given Chad a second chance for no other reason than they were good people. He’d enjoyed tonight. Glad he listened to his mother’s advice.