Just One Song - By Stacey Lynn Page 0,38

here in a few minutes. I thought we could just do something casual – normal – like burgers and a beer?”

“That sounds perfect.” It does. I like it that Zack doesn’t seem like he’s trying to impress me with his celebrity status or money – well, besides the offer for the bag, anyway. I’m sure we could walk into any five-star restaurant in the city and he’d be seated immediately, probably with a table in a private room.

***

We pull up to a ProSports Bar. I love it. When he said burger and beer, a part of me was thinking we’d go somewhere slightly nicer, but I like being at a normal restaurant; a place I would go to for beer and a game of pool with Mia and Mark. It’s totally me, and I get the sense it’s also who Zack really is…beneath the celebrity, he’s a regular guy. He’s showing me his ‘normal’ side, and I like it; a lot.

I can’t stop laughing over our burger and tap beer.

“What is so funny?”

I look around the restaurant and smile. It’s a late afternoon; too early for dinner, and the restaurant is pretty empty. It sort of reminds me of the night we met when Jack’s Bar was so slow. I can’t believe I only met him four nights ago.

“I’m just…in awe I guess. Four nights ago I didn’t even know you, and now I’m in Chicago, watching your concert from backstage, and travelling by tour bus. It’s a bit strange.”

“Overwhelming?”

“A bit, yeah. But I’m having fun, too.” I don’t feel the least bit guilty for admitting it either. It’s quite a stretch for me and I’m suddenly proud of myself for agreeing to be with him, and for not letting Ethan spoil it last night.

Zack notices my frown when I think of Ethan, but I don’t want to talk about it. Instead, I point out some pool tables in the back.

I point with my fork to the table. “You want to play?”

Zack’s eyebrows raise a bit. “You know how?”

I just smile. “I’m okay.”

We finish our meals quickly and go grab a table.

“Do you want to break?” I ask once he’s racked the balls on the pool table.

“By all means, ladies first.” Zack waves me forward and picks out his own cue stick. I lean over the table, steady my cue stick, and shoot. The cue ball hits the racked balls dead center, but not hard enough to make any shots. The five-ball rolls to the back corner pocket and sits right on the edge.

“Your turn.”

Zack easily knocks the five-ball in and claims solids. We continue taking turns and I’m impressed. He is really good. I miss several times, and eventually lose when he sinks the eight-ball leaving three of my remaining stripes on the table.

“I thought you said you were pretty good.” I bite my lip to keep from laughing when he raises one side of his lips, along with an eyebrow in a challenging smirk.

“I must be rusty.” I shrug my shoulders like it’s no big deal. “How about we play again; best two out of three. Fifty dollars says I win.”

“I don’t know. After seeing you play, it’s going to be like taking candy from a baby.” I roll my eyes, re-rack the balls and let Zack break the next game. He makes a solid and a stripe in on the break, and claims the solids.

“So, Zack Walters, tell me something. What’s it really like being you?”

He looks at me. “Well, not to be arrogant, but I think I’m pretty awesome.” He leans his hip up against the table and crosses his arms. “But what are you asking specifically?”

I bank the cue ball off one of his, sending it further away from a pocket, and straight into mine, drilling the ten ball into the pocket at the far end of the table. When I look back up at him, I can tell he’s impressed.

“What I mean is, since we’ve been here tonight. I have noticed at least a dozen women checking you out. Some have not-so-sneakily snapped pictures of you on their phones, and see the girl over there?” I point to a blonde and busty Barbie-look-a-like standing a few tables down watching us. “She has been rubbing her fingers through her hair for the last five minutes trying to get up the courage to come over here and talk to you.” Zack glances over and shrugs his shoulders when he turns back around.

“I don’t notice them anymore,

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