the last to arrive.
I sat down to put on my shoes when I felt someone sit down beside me. I didn’t need to look to know it was Grant. If I couldn’t tell by the way I automatically swayed closer to him, the delicious smell—dark, musky, and something uniquely his own—would have given it away.
“Here, I brought you your drink.” Grant handed me the cup, which I noticed had been refilled with fresh ice. I set my shoe down and turned to him, scooting back on the bench slightly to keep some distance between us. I was afraid of what I might do if he touched me again.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to do that.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I simply said, “Thank you” and resumed putting on my shoes. Grant didn’t get up, but instead slouched down a little and placed his hand on the back of the seat. If I’d been sitting six inches closer, his arm would have been around me.
“Someone here order chicken nachos?” a waitress came by and asked. Grant held up two fingers indicating it was him, and the waitress sat them down in front of him. He handed her some money but didn’t dig in, or even take a bite.
Instead, he slid them toward me, not saying anything. Had he ordered these for me? Did Tonya tell him I was hungry? I couldn’t figure him out but took a few nachos anyway so I could stop my hands shaking and settle the nerves in my stomach.
A hint of a smile flickered on Grant’s face as I ate, but I kept my eyes on the game and didn’t look at him directly. It was too dangerous. Instead, I glanced up at the monitor to see when it would be my turn and saw I’d been placed at the very bottom, right below Grant. Two people still had to go before it was my turn, and no one seemed to be in a hurry.
“Hey, since we have an even number tonight, why don’t we pair up as we play, for a side bet? Losing pair gets the bar bill at the end of the night? Whadda ya say?”
Tonya’s proposal was met with a resounding yes, and we began to team up.
“I call Grant!” she yelled, practically pouring herself into his lap. He slid closer to me to avoid her fall, and she crossed her arms and stuck her bottom lip out in a pout.
“No way, Tonya. You won’t make it three rounds before you’re passed out under the table over there. Besides, I’m already teamed up with Jillian, right?”
He looked at me to confirm, hope and lust still swimming in his eyes. What was I supposed to do? If I said no, then I’d be calling him out on his fib. But if I said yes, I’d be working with him for ten rounds. Ten long rounds that would test not only my self-control but his as well.
“Yep, we’re together,” I confirmed, noting my own Freudian slip. I scooted closer to Grant and silently delighted when he replaced his arm around my back.
This was going to be a very long night.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“All right, Jillian. You got this. If you make this spare, we will inch out of last place for the first time in eight months,” Tonya’s friend Kristen urged. “Not to mention, it’ll ensure I don’t have to pay the tab tonight!”
Everyone watched as I picked up my ball and walked slowly toward the lane. I had made the last two spares, but with all this pressure I wasn’t sure if I could do it again. I took a deep breath, and swung the ball smoothly behind me before releasing it. It glided down the lane toward the three remaining pins and suddenly I couldn’t look. I closed my eyes, but within seconds heard the crash of pins and eruption of cheers behind me. The group ran up to me, hugging me, high fiving, and patting me on the back. I spun in circles as I was passed from one to another, giddy that I had helped them in this victory.
As the group began to disperse back to their seats, I realized the person who I was now leaning against was Grant. I immediately stood up straighter and took two steps away from him. He chuckled slightly under his breath. What was he up to now?
Throughout the night, we’d played a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Light touches, brief