After refilling both our glasses, I found Eagle by the pool tables. “You any good?” I asked, handing him his drink as I gestured toward the table.
He started racking the balls. “I do all right. You?”
I grabbed one of the pool cues from its holder on the wall. “It’s been a minute since I played, but I used to be okay.” In truth, I was damn good. I’d grown up playing on these tables with Dad’s crew, and those old guys were a bunch of pool sharks who liked to show off. They’d taught me a thing or two.
Removing the rack, he said, “Your break.”
I took a deep breath, lined up the cue ball, and sent a stripe into a corner pocket. Then I shot again, sinking a second stripe into a side pocket. My third shot sank a third stripe.
Eagle arched an eyebrow. “I think you misled me, Pedro.”
Remembering that I wanted to get laid more than I wanted to win this game, I intentionally missed the next shot. Eagle sank three solids before missing the fourth.
“You do all right?” I asked. “I think I was the one misled, Marine.”
He shrugged, smirking.
My heart did a little flip at the sight. Damn, the man was sexy. His hands were huge, his shoulders were broad, and I’d overheard a couple of the club whores saying he was a beast in the bedroom. Exactly what Love Doctor Monica had prescribed to chill me the fuck out.
Needing a little more liquid courage to up my flirting game, I took a long drink of my cocktail before sinking two more stripes. He sank two more solids. He should have sank a third, but his hand twitched at the last second, causing the cue ball to hit its mark off-center. It looked like he did it on purpose.
Arching my eyebrow, I called him on it. “You don’t have to hold back with me, you know?” I asked. “I can handle your game.”
His nostrils flared, and his gaze roamed over my body. Whiskey was loosening him up as well. “I was about to tell you the same thing.”
I’d been caught. A guilty smile tugged at my lips as I backed up to the table and took a shot behind my back, sinking another stripe.
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” Eagle asked.
I sank my last stripe before turning my attention on the eight ball. I didn’t have a good shot, but I could sabotage Eagle’s next move, so I did.
“Rude,” he said, eyeballing my work.
I shrugged and took another sip of my drink. “You said I didn’t have to pull my punches. Did you change your mind, Sweetheart?” It felt damn good to throw that nickname back at him.
Shaking his head, he took a shot, surprisingly sinking a solid in the corner pocket. He missed the next shot, though. My turn. I sank the eight ball and his solid. We both laughed, and I racked the balls for our next game while Eagle refilled our drinks. We were evenly matched and with whiskey flowing, conversation was easy and relaxed. Not only was the guy easy on the eyes, he was great company.