You Should Smile (4 page)

By the time it was our turn to play, we were all feeling pretty good.  Even Thad had loosened up some, though he still wouldn’t look at me.  I noticed that he’d exchanged some harsh words with Lance on the way to the pool tables, but they seemed to be okay now. 

As we picked teams, Lance asked me, “So can you play?”

I batted my eyes at him coyly and drawled, “I’m okay, I guess.”

He laughed.  “Oh lord, are you a hustler?  Awesome.  Me, too!”

The game began.  I was on Thad and Chris’ team.  Lance was on a team with Melissa and Paul.  Lance was already trying to avoid Melissa.  She was oblivious, of course – still flirting annoyingly.  Grant had gone to the other room where a band was playing.  He didn’t go over to hear the band, though.  That English guy was over there, of course.

In between shots, the guys were telling funny stories about each other. 

“And then Angry Thad kicked third base so hard, he broke his fuckin’ toe!”  Lance’s voice roared as he sipped from his beer. 

Everyone laughed at the story about Thad’s temper, but I happened to glance at Chris, whose grin faltered noticeably when he met my gaze.  He turned his head to the side a bit, brief lines of concern falling across his face.  He then nodded at me and smiled sweetly.  What was that all about? 

The beer kept coming and so did the stories.  Thad was giving Lance a hard time about his “harem” of women when Lance apparently had enough.  “Whatever, dude.  Like you have any room to talk.  Your door was always revolving until Dani came along.”

I tried not to let the words bother me.  Who cares?  He was a big ol’ male whore in college?  Before Dani?  Who was she….and why did I already hate her?

For the first time that night, Thad’s eyes finally met mine.  My breath hitched.  Did I remember how to breathe?

His eyes were apologetic, like he didn’t want me to hear that.  Like he cared that I had heard it.

I turned away first.  I had no claim on him.  He had no claim on me.  I shouldn’t care.  I can’t care.  I won’t care.  I grabbed my beer again and shrugged my shoulders, forcing a fake grin as I took a long drink.  Oh well.  Screw him
and
his revolving door. And Dani, whoever the hell she was.  Screw her, too.  (Hey, I guess he already did that!  Buh-Duh-Duh!)

I cracked myself up.  A real smile spread across my face.  Fuck it.  Blitzville, here I come!  I have two levels when I drink:  Snoozeville or Blitzville.  If I just have two or three drinks and stop, I’m headed home to Snoozeville.  If I keep going, I’m headed to Blitzville, where I am no longer responsible for my actions or my blurting mouth.  Looks like tonight, I was headed to Blitzville. 

Chris came up next to me.  I met his eyes and there was that look again.  Sympathetic.  

“You doin’ alright, Shay?” he whispered.  Oh shit, he saw right through me. 

I tried to act nonchalant.  “Yeah.  I’m fine.  Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders.  “Just asking.” 

I didn’t believe that for a second, but I wasn’t about to ask again.  I was afraid he’d tell me the truth. 

He put his arm around me and said, “So what do you want to drink?  I’m headed to the bar.”

“You don’t need to get me a drink,” I blurted out.  Then, realizing it sounded rude, I clarified, “I mean, I appreciate it, but you don’t have to do that.”

He grinned again, showing his dimples.  Nothing.  I felt nothing for those dimples.  I wish I felt something.  He was so damn nice – and “available”.

“I’m headed up there anyway.  Now, what do you want?”

“Okay then.  I’ll take a wheat.  Whatever’s on tap.”

“Wheat, on tap, coming up…”  He grinned again.  Then leaned in, “You know, you’re not supposed to let strange guys get you beer.  It’s not safe.”  He turned to me and I could tell he was serious.

I laughed.  “I usually don’t,
Dad
!  I figured since you were Thad’s friend that you’re safe….”

“Haha.  I am, I promise….but I’ve seen some legal cases where it happens.   Just making sure you don’t usually do that…..Oh, and you can call me Daddy if you want.” 

I knew he was just kidding around on that last comment.  His cheesy grin gave him away. 

Lance walked up behind us and overheard Chris’ comment. “Well, fuck me.  She’s got you throwing game now, pretty boy?”  He hit Chris on the shoulder and said, “Not bad, son.  Not bad.  We’ll work on it.”

I laughed at them before noticing Thad was staring at us, glaring.  Chris looked up and met his eyes.  He nodded his head toward Thad, winked at him, and then went off to the bar.

As he walked off, I decided to go to the bathroom.  On the way there, I walked past the group of college girls.  One screamed, “Yes, it is too him.  Like, no one else has an ass like that.  His name’s Dr. Reeding, but, like, I heard that everyone calls him Dr. Breed With Me.”  I laughed to myself.  Not bad.  Dr. Reeding had other nicknames to add to the list. 

I glanced over at the girl making the statement and she was about nineteen or twenty, bleached blond hair and fake nails.  Her grammar told me she did fit the stereotype.  I shuddered at her future.  You never have to worry about the dumb, fake, bitchy girls.  They’re too stupid to be manipulative.  No, the girls you gotta fear are the naturally beautiful, smart, and manipulative ones who don’t play by Girl Rules.  You know, the Angelina Jolies of the world.  Those are the scary ones – the ones who see no boundaries, adhere to no rules, steal your boyfriends, steal your husbands.  You know, the best friends who sleep with your boyfriend in your bed.  Been there, got the t-shirt.

As the night wore on, I noticed the girls begin to get more drunk and brave.  Soon, they were heading our way.  Thad stood up on their approach.  He spoke first.

“Hi Samantha and Cassie.  I hope you’re not drinking in here because I know neither of you are twenty-one.”  Grin.

They all stopped in their tracks and one of the blonds replied, “Oh, of course not, Dr. Reeding.  We wouldn’t do that.”  They then changed course and headed back to their table again.  Chris looked at Thad and Thad grinned back.  “Works every time.  Anytime I’m somewhere and don’t really want undergrads hanging around, the alcohol card comes out.  They scatter like cockroaches.”

Sure enough, within ten minutes, they’d left with their posse, no doubt in search of another bar willing to recognize their fake ID so they could drink.  As they got to the door, though, one of the drunker girls yelled back, “Later, Dr.  Breed With Me!” as they scurried out.

We all died laughing. 

“You will NEVER live this down, you know that, right?” Lance bellowed, bent over, laughing, tears streaming down his face.  “Dr. Breed With Me!”

***************

At some point after that, Grant had walked over and said he was leaving.  That English guy was with him, so I felt like I’d be a third wheel if I tagged along.  I told him I’d just stay and ride with Paul or Melissa or take a cab home.   

“Okay.  Have fun, Princess.  Remember, it’s hard to get semen stains out of black material,” he whispered as he hugged me goodbye.

“Ewww…..How do you know that?....Wait, don’t tell me,” I whispered back.  (Though I thought maybe I should keep it in mind, for future reference.  You know, just in case.)

Near the end of our game, another team came over and put their quarters down on our table.  That meant that whichever team won this current game would play the new team.  Thad, Chris and I beat Lance’s team, so we kept playing.

I checked out the new team as they waited.  It was three cute guys around my age.  By the way they tested the pool cues, they looked like they knew what they were doing.  Blitzville Shay was here to stay, so I decided to have some fun. 

Looking at my fellow hustler Lance, I said (in my best Melissa voice and loud enough for the new guys to hear), “Gosh, I’m not sure how to hold the stick…” 

One of the guys heard me and walked toward me.  “I’ll show you how to hold it, darlin’.”  Crap.  That wasn’t part of my plan.

Before I could even reply, Thad was by my side, glaring at the guy.  As he stared him down, he said loudly, “I’ll show you.”

The guy grinned and held his hands up to Thad in mock defeat.  Thad wasn’t smiling.  The guy looked to his partners, nodding, a silent understanding between them that they were dealing with a novice in me. 

I felt Thad’s hand against the small of my back and he nudged me toward the pool table until my stomach reached the side.  What was he doing?  How drunk was he?  This was a bad idea.  I tried to turn around, but then I felt the front of his body pressing against the back of mine.  He moved in closer.  Tighter.  His hand reached up to the back of my neck and he bent me slowly forward, facing down toward the pool table. 

Oh shit.  I realized his dick was lined up with my ass.  I forgot what I was doing.  The heat started pulsing between my legs.  This was a very bad idea.  Protest, yes, that’s what I should be doing.  I should stop this.  I leaned back up.  Still pressed behind me, he whispered in my ear, “Nuh-uh.  You wanna hustle, you gotta follow through with the game.”

I felt the shivers pulsate from my ear down to my heaving chest and then straight to my core.  Ms. L. was on high alert.  He grabbed the nearby cue stick and deliberately pressed me back down, bent over the table.  He reached around my waist with his left hand and held the cue in his right.  Still pressing into me from behind, his arms around me on each side, he leaned down next to my ear and pointed the cue stick toward the cue ball.  I inhaled.  He smelled so good.  I could bathe in his scent.  I felt that familiar heat as he lifted my right hand and tucked it into his own at the back of the cue stick.  Then, he did the same with my left hand in his at the front. 

I watched as he took his right hand off of mine for a second to grab some chalk.  Pulling back my left thumb, he slowly rubbed the chalk on the sensitive webbing between my thumb and forefinger.  Oh lord.  Breathe.  I bit my lip, trying to stifle a low moan.  Too late.  He’d heard me. 

I felt his growing hardness against my ass – and it felt huge.  On pure sexual instinct, and completely forgetting anyone else was around, I pushed my ass back into him.  I heard his gasp and swift intake of breath before he gripped me tighter and slammed himself into me against the table.  Leaning in, he brought his mouth to my earlobe and – and bit it – hard.  I choked back a scream. 

“Pay attention to the training session,” he commanded, hot breath hitting my ear.

It was then that I remembered we had an audience.  Shit.  Oh shit.  I glanced up to meet the eyes of Chris and Lance who were watching us go through this odd, sexually charged performance.  My cheeks went red.  Chris’s mouth was wide open in surprise.  Lance just grinned a knowing grin as he shook his head.  Thankfully, Paul and Melissa had gone to the bar for a drink and hadn’t come back yet.  Thank goodness for slow bartenders.  I could
not
have handled them seeing this, too.  

The other team seemed to enjoy the show immensely.  They were grinning broadly.  Thad was either completely oblivious to it all or too drunk to care at this point.

He continued.  “Now then, you need to thrust with your right hand and hold steady with the left.”  Guiding my hands under his, he demonstrated the motion of the cue sliding through the chalked area of the skin on my left hand.  From my peripheral vision, I could see his grin emerging.  His breath was scorching in my ear as he whispered so no one could hear, “There.  See how it slides in and out?”  Shivers ran through my body.  As if responding automatically, his hardness grew even larger against me.  I took a deep breath and bit my lip.  For fuck’s sake.  Who knew playing pool could be this sexy?  Ms. L. was cussing me out again – in Spanish this time.

“Once you get the motion going and feel comfortable, you line your cue with the cue ball and aim the cue ball at a ball.  We’re solids, so you want to hit as many solids in as you can.”  Then, he reached between us and adjusted himself before briefly…..palming…..my…..ass……No one else could see that.  His voice was heated.  “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

I was flabbergasted.  Embarrassed.  Completely turned on.  Fuck.  Ms. L. was threatening my life.  I turned my head quickly behind me to spit out some sort of retort and he gave me his best panty-dropper grin. 

“Fucker,” I said loud enough for everyone to hear.  That made everyone laugh, even Thad. 

One of the new guys we were playing mumbled, “Lucky bastard.”

Then it hit me all at once.  I was in way over my head.  This was like that scene in a movie where you foreshadow what’s going to happen……and what was going to happen probably wasn’t going to turn out well.  How could it possibly? 

By the time I hit the fourth ball in a row in, the guys knew they’d been played.  They just smiled at me and shook their heads, though.  I guess it didn’t hurt that we’d provided free entertainment, as well.  I finally missed and, after one of the guys missed, I got to sit back and watch Thad run the table.  I tried not to notice him leaning over, concentrating, hair immaculately tousled, muscles contracting when he pulled through on a hard shot.  When he bent over to shoot a particularly far away shot, I tried to ignore the view of his granite baseball-playing ass.  I tried.

Within a few minutes, I realized the game was over and he was talking to Lance and Chris about something.  Thad was shaking his head.  Lance was grinning.  Chris just seemed concerned.