A Mixup At The Pool Table Novels & Stories

I've built theories about worse men than this one. I don't expect to be wrong so quickly. A young warrior near the far end of the table reaches for the pitcher of water and knocks it instead, sending a wide splash across the table's edge, close enough to catch the sleeve of Osborne's shirt. It's nothing. A clumsy accident, the kind that happens at breakfast tables everywhere, the kind that should earn nothing more than an embarrassed apology and a passed cloth. Osborne goes rigid instead.

The club manager asked, brows raised. “Yes, the girl is rude and mixed bullshit. Seems like she added water to the drink and extorted us,” he said, and I froze at once. “W-what…” I gasped. “I wasn't the one who mixed the drink. In fact, I saw her mix it; she never added a drop into their prescription.” “Are you saying we’re lying?” another asked. “Then drink it and see for yourself.” The men exchanged glances, silently communicating. Without thinking, I stepped toward the table and grabbed one of the glasses. I didn’t like beer, let alone one mixed with different alcohols.

Trevor says with a grin. Kimbra shrugs. “Speaking of which—” Before she can finish I hear a voice I never expected, one thick with a British accent. “Willis, we’re next in the pool-table queue. You’re about up.” “Max?” I say, turning his direction. Stunned doesn’t begin to describe my reaction. “Shana?” The good vibes I’ve been feeling since entering the bar disappear in a puff of smoke as Max Cantel’s beady, cheating stare comes my way.

Is this a genuine offer or just an odd remark? "No, thanks. I have my bike," I reiterate, deciding to walk away from him. I had every intention of keeping my distance from him. I'm about to retrieve my phone when my steps come to an abrupt halt. I look up and see the scene before me—chairs overturned, scattered around the area. I'm not sure how many people entered the building to create such a mess in the swimming pool area. The spectator seats are in disarray, some even broken. I turn back to Grey, expecting him to have an explanation.

“Stilettos aren’t…pool friendly footwear, are they?” “I’d say not,” Victor murmurs, finally taking back his hands. Then, out of the blue, from behind Victor I hear Ian shout: “LET’S PLAY MARCO POLO!” and I spy a flash of him standing right behind Victor, hands up, ready to shove. Victor collides with me and we both topple, suddenly, helplessly, into the pool. I surface frantically, gasping for air, just in time to see the boys cannon ball into the water fully clothed.

he said and turned to walk off as the current bartender returned. I don’t know what stick got stuck up his ass but that was uncalled for. He isn’t even a wolf and calls his boss Alpha. Okay bruh. Jude and I made it to the tall table where Jill and Sam were playing pool at the same time. He grabbed a beer as I sat the bucket down. “No shots?” he asked.

I take advantage of his confusion. — Tell your boss there’s a woman out here looking for a half-chimpanzee. He’ll understand. The guard hesitates for a moment, then disappears inside. Two minutes pass — long enough to make my heart race — before he returns, expression changed. — End of the bar. The only door on the left. I cross the room, every step leaving a trail of water on the dark floor. All eyes turn to me, none of them even pretending not to stare. Five or six men are scattered around the two pool tables — each with the obscene beauty of the Nephilins, massive bodies in casual clothes, flawless faces.

A soft song plays in the background. Its fine tune flows through the air and resonates around the room. The room is spacious but filled with an atmosphere of wicked intentions. There is a round pool inside; it is not filled with water but blood. Adrian, Alex and another man stay close to one edge of the pool. Adrian and Alex are silent as this unknown character plays with a silver coin in his hand. Throwing it into the air and catching it. Just as the silver coin begins to burn his hand he throws it back into the air and continues this circle of activity.

I retort and walk past him, but he grabs my hand, I can see Maverick starts to get up from the table, but I spin around and grab his hand, twisting it behind his back all while holding the two beers in my other hand. “AAAHHH!!” The man cried out in pain. “I told you no, do you fuckers think that means yes? I hate men like you, thinking you can take what you want. Well, guess what asshole you fucked with the wrong bitch” I say in a low tone. “I’m sorry it won’t happen again.” The man apologized frantically. I roll my eyes shoving him over the pool table. The man lands on the other side and stumbles to get up quickly, running for the door. I turn back to Maverick and walk to the booth. I take

"I'm sure the rumors are flying thick and fast. Spill it, Beth. What are they saying?" "Only that you were roaring drunk, transformed into some kind of hot, sexy pool shark, and cleaned house by beating the best players in Stump River. Talk about a windfall!" I straightened in my seat, abandoning the plant. "Hold on a second. Roaring drunk? No way. Maybe a little tipsy, but I was perfectly in control. And pool shark? It was pure luck! And the 'windfall' was just a handful of loose change, for crying out loud!"