Just One Game Ch. 01

Bridget swirled the wine in her glass as she watched the crowd of people on the dance floor. Drunken girls giggled as they struggled to stay balanced in their too-high stilettos, men watched them with eager eyes, and intimate couples were concealed in the dark corners of the club. Even through the shadows you could see their bodies tensed up against each other, hands wandering over delicate places.

"Bridget!" An elbow was roughly jabbed into her upper arm and she turned back to the table with a frown.

Her friend Jade was glaring at her through false eyelashes.

"Rob was just saying how much he loves to play pool..." Jade raised her perfectly pencilled eyebrows and then plastered a smile on her face as she turned to the two men sitting across from them.

Jade's partner, Keaton sat directly across from her and the way he'd been looking adoringly at Jade all night, Bridget thought, was nauseating. For a couple who had been together for over five years, they still managed to uphold an obscene amount of public displays of affection. Or maybe she was just jealous. She looked up to find Rob watching her eagerly. The blonde, blue-eyed car salesman was charming, athletic, and such a nice guy, according to Jade. She'd failed to mention that he was incapable of talking about anything other than his own interests. After listening to him explain the best sales techniques for over an hour, Bridget had tuned out and started to drink faster.

"...and isn't that a coincidence?" Jade continued with enthusiasm. "You see, Bridget here is amazing at pool - and there just so happens to be a free table over near the bar!"

Bridget knocked back the last of her wine to avoid rolling her eyes and waved her empty glass with a smile.

"I need another wine -- but how about we have a game when I get back?" she didn't wait for Rob's answer, pushing her chair back quickly. With any luck, by the time she made it back, the free pool table would be occupied. It was still early in the night, but it was a Friday and the club was filling up quickly. As she stood, she realised her head was spinning and she subtly steadied herself at the bar, perching herself onto the nearest stool. The bar staff were bustling and she didn't try too hard to get their attention. The longer she was away, the better, she figured.

She'd agreed on the double date because she knew Jade was concerned about her. After a messy breakup six months ago, she hadn't had the urge to date anyone new, and her friend hated to see her living in her apartment alone. Truth was, she'd been pouring herself into her work so much that she'd only really been home to sleep. She smoothed down the hemline of her dress which had crept its way up to her mid-thigh. She'd worn a loose-fitting grey dress, much to Jade's dissatisfaction. If it were up to her, Bridget would be in a short, tight frock, attracting as much attention as possible. She'd decided, however, that her wild red hair was enough of an attention getter on its own. It ran freely down the length of her back, spiralling in all directions, refusing to be tamed. While she'd always longed for Jade's silky blonde locks, most of her girlfriends were envious of her crazy red tresses that complemented the green in her eyes.

She turned her attention back to the bar and caught the eye of one of the barmen. He strolled over and placed a full wine glass in front of her before she had the chance to order.

"From the gentleman," he indicated to a man sitting a few seats down from her and she leaned back slightly from her chair to get a decent look.

Black eyes met hers and a dangerously confident smile that made her legs weak - or perhaps that was just the alcohol. Once upon a time she would have been flattered by the gesture, but that was before she'd learned that men who buy you a drink tend to want something in return. She raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him and turned back to her drink. It was a red variety, but she had no way of telling what type. She brought the glass to her nose and inhaled.

"Shiraz."

She felt the warmth of his breath as his lips brushed her ear and she swung around quickly, almost spilling the drink all over herself. Placing the glass firmly on the bar, she frowned up at him.

"Excuse me?"

He stood casually against the bar, in jeans and a white V-neck t-shirt which on anyone else would have seemed underdressed, but he held himself with such self confidence that the outfit complemented him.

"Your wine. It's a full-bodied Shiraz, top of the range."

"Thanks for the offer, but I don't drink red," she lied.

"Really?" he raised an eyebrow, "Could have fooled me with the amount you've already drunk tonight."

Bridget's cheeks flamed as she realised he must have been watching her throughout the night. She took a sip from the glass while he smirked at her triumphantly. He was right, it was a beautiful wine.

"Play a game of eight ball with me." It was a demand rather than a question and she felt inclined to agree just to wipe the smug look from his handsome face when she beat him.

"As fun as that sounds, I have to get back to my date," she lathered her voice in false disappointment.

He glanced over her shoulder to where her friends were seated. She thought she saw a flash of amusement in his expression, but it was quickly gone as his eyes once again met hers.

"Tell you what. We'll play one game."

Bridget opened her mouth to object, but he cut her off.

"If you win, I'll let you get back to your date. You'll never see me again."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What makes you think you can stop me from getting back to my date?"

He grinned. "Oh, you'll find I can be very persistent."

Bridget hesitated. She could see Jade wrapped up in conversation with the two boys. One game wouldn't take long and beating the ego out of this stranger would definitely improve her night.

"And if I lose?" she looked up at him curiously.

He didn't miss a beat. "Then you say goodnight to your date and let me escort you to another party."

Bridget almost choked on the last mouthful of her drink. "You really expect me to let you, a complete stranger, take me god knows where?"

He smiled, "Why not?"

It might have been the amount of wine she'd already drunk, or maybe Bridget was a tiny bit curious to get to know this dark, attractive man a little better, but she suddenly had the urge to take him up on his challenge.

"If I win, not only do you leave me alone, but you also buy me a bottle of that Shiraz," she said confidently.

He laughed, a deep sexy sound that she wouldn't mind hearing again. "Win or lose, I'll get you a bottle."

Bridget nodded and held out her hand to him. He took it firmly, and she felt a thrill run through her at the contact.

"To make it fair, I'll give you three free shots to start the game."

She frowned at his attempted courtesy and practically jumped off her stool. She shoved a two dollar coin into the dispenser and snatched the nearest cue stick into her fisted hands.

"You can keep the free shots," she said as she chalked the end of her cue, "you're going to need them."

Suddenly he was right beside her, close enough for her to breathe in his cologne; an intoxicating mix of sandalwood and spices.

"Is that right?" He towered over her and studied her with a playful expression. She stared back, taking the opportunity to properly examine his features. His dark hair was short and ungroomed, with a subtle trail of stubble shading his jawline. She saw now that his eyes weren't black, but a dark brown that seemed to darken the more she gazed into them. She sucked in a breath as his hands reached down the length of her, his eyes staying fixed on hers. She should have stepped back, but there was something dangerous in his gaze that kept her still. She felt him graze the skin just below the hemline of her dress and her heartbeat quickened. His fingers hovered for no more than half a second, before collecting the multi-coloured balls and depositing them onto the table. His fingers worked them into a triangle quick and easily. Too easily, she thought, for an amateur player, and she shakily let out the breath she was still holding, bringing her focus back to the game.

His hands were barely off the table when Bridget sent the white ball soaring down the green felt, breaking the triangle with such ferocity that two balls sank heavily into the back corner pockets. Both stripes.

Jade wasn't lying; Bridget was amazing at pool. Her high school job had been at an arcade in the city and on quiet nights she would spend hours perfecting her game. Lining up her shots, positioning her cue and applying just the right amount of force.

Click! Another stripe in. She looked up to where her opponent was standing. He looked calm, drink in hand, and didn't even flinch when another ball dropped into the pocket nearest to him. Bridget made her way to the other side of the table, cocking her head to one side as she considered her next move.

"You know, you don't take me as a woman who would have any difficulty finding a date."

Bridget frowned and looked up at the man, who was leaning up against the wall, perfectly composed. "What?"

"Your date tonight, it's a set up, no?"

Her mouth dropped slightly, how the hell did he know that? But, then, he had clearly been watching her throughout the night. Maybe he'd overheard some of their conversation. "So what if it is? I've been friends with Jade for years, she would know better than anyone the type of man I'd be interested in."

His lips twitched. "Really?" He walked over to her then, and leaned against the table, his body so close she could feel the heat of him against her skin. "And what type is that?"

Bridget laughed nervously, "Why would I tell you?" She moved to the opposite side of the table and leaned forward, positioning her cue and lining up her next shot. She should have chosen the easy target - a red stripe sitting close to the middle left hand pocket; but she was caught up in her triumph and aimed for a ball at the far end of the table. It was only as her cue struck home that she realised her accuracy was slightly off from the amount she'd had to drink. She cursed as the white ball hit the side of the table and rolled to the centre, making no contact at all. Only four balls down and now her opponent had two free shots.

He smiled smugly and collected a cue from the rack. He glanced toward the table where Bridget's friends were sitting.

"Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a winning smile. Is that your type?" He chalked the end of his cue as Bridget felt herself blush.

"Rob is a gentleman."

He rolled his eyes, "Rob looks like a bore."

As he leaned forward and pulled the cue back, Bridget caught a glimpse of muscle under the sleeve of his shirt and she wondered if his stomach was just as built. His cue connected firmly and the first solid was easily sunk.

She frowned. "There's nothing wrong with boring. If he's a nice man who loves me, and is faithful, and looks after me, then I'm okay with boring."

Moving swiftly to the side of the table, he took a new position and manoeuvred another ball into a corner pocket. Bridget mentally chastised herself for her pride; she should have known he wouldn't propose such a deal in a game he wasn't likely to win.

He moved towards her and his eyes assessed her slowly, critically, before he shook his head in disapproval. "You're too young and much too beautiful to settle for boring." He smiled moved his focus back to the table.

Feeling flushed, Bridget pushed her hair back from her face and watched as her opponent sunk two more solids, his expression subdued. Every move he made was executed with perfection and as ball after ball went in, Bridget found herself praying for him to miss. Logically, she knew she had no obligation to leave with this man, but there was something in his expression that told her it would be a dangerous move to renege on their agreement.

The last solid bounced mechanically off the side wall and she watched in disdain as it slid into the pocket nearest to her. The eight ball sat, perched between two of her untouched striped balls, and Bridget watched as her rival contemplated his next move. He positioned himself directly across from her, his brow creasing slightly at the complexity of the situation before him. It was a difficult shot, even for an accomplished player and Bridget held her breath as he leaned forward, angling his cue with precision. As he struck, his eyes met hers and she saw in them blatant superiority; his lips curling up with satisfaction as the white ball knocked the eight ball straight into the corner pocket.

She was still gaping at the effortlessly cleared table when he strode towards her, tilting her chin upward to meet her gaze. His eyes, she noticed, were even darker than before and almost predatory.

"You have five minutes to say goodnight to your friends. I'll be waiting outside for you."

She started to mumble an excuse, but his finger on her lips brought her to silence.

"No excuses, love," he said sternly. "We shook on it."