But that doesn’t mean I can’t poke around a little bit before he wakes up. Stalking can go both ways, and now it’s my turn.
My bare feet are quiet on the stairs, and when I reach the large entry room on the first floor, I stop and turn in a circle. This is the only other room of the house I’ve ever seen, and to be fair, I’ve barely seen this one.
It’s big and airy, minimally decorated in a way that feels intentional instead of just lazy. A hallway at the back of the room cuts under the stairs to lead deeper into the house, and I can see a living room through another large, open doorway.
After a moment of consideration, I head toward the hall. The house seems big from the outside, and I want to see how far back it goes.
When I’m halfway down the hall, though, I hear quiet voices coming from up ahead of me. As I draw a little closer, I recognize the distinctive crack of pool balls clacking together, and when I round the doorway of the room, I find Ryland bent over a pool table while Theo watches him line up his shot.
Ryland’s gaze catches mine at the same moment he moves his cue, and his shot goes wide. The ball bounces off the rails, and Theo crows in victory.
“What are you doing down here?” Rylands asks, cranky as ever. He straightens and backs away from the table as Theo steps forward.
“Why? Am I not allowed to go into the west wing?”
The look he shoots me makes it obvious he doesn’t get my Beauty and the Beast reference. And why the fuck would he? The guy doesn’t exactly look like he watches Disney movies for fun.
“You can do whatever you want. It’s not my house.” He shrugs his broad shoulders.
I roll my eyes. “Thanks.”
“Marcus still sleeping?” Theo asks, looking over his shoulder from where he’s lining up his shot. His tall body leans over the pool table gracefully, and the sleeves of his t-shirt stretch over the muscles of his biceps.
“Yeah. How’d you know we were asleep?”
His face splits in a lopsided smile, the faintest hint of a dimple appearing in one cheek as he grins at me. “It got quiet. So.”
“Oh.” Memories of what happened upstairs earlier flit through my head, and my cheeks heat. There were some noises I remember making, but I’m sure there were plenty of others I don’t. “Right.”
Theo’s grin widens, but it’s not just humor that makes his blue-green eyes flash. There’s heat in them too, and I can’t keep my gaze from drifting down to his crooked smile again. I remember what his lips felt like on mine, what his tongue tasted like, and warmth slides down my spine.
Fuck. What am I even doing?
I clear my throat, turning away, but that only puts Ryland’s face directly in my vision again. He’s still watching me with a hard gaze, like he expects me to try to steal some of Marcus’s shit and run off with it.
Dragging my gaze away from his accusatory stare, I add, “Anyway, I just came downstairs to—”
“—play pool?” Theo takes his shot, then straightens and grins at me. His gaze drops to my right arm briefly, and his smile flickers. “Or, uh…”
I cock an eyebrow at him. “I’ll have you know I can play better than a lot of people with two good arms.”
The smile returns to his face, brighter than ever. He holds out his cue to me. “Yeah? Prove it.”
“It’s my shot,” Ryland bitches, but I ignore him and grab the cue.
I can feel both men watching me as I line up my shot, deliberately going for the balls Ryland missed earlier. There’s a pool table in the back room of Duke’s, and I sometimes go back there after we close if I’m not tired enough to go home. I don’t usually play against other people, but I’ve gotten pretty good.
I keep my arm steady as I gauge the angle, and when I shoot, I sink two striped balls into the corner and side pockets.
Theo chuckles, and Ryland lets out a low grunt.
I hand the cue back to the taller man, and Theo’s fingers brush against mine as he takes it, sending a cascade of sparks up my arm.
“Nice.” He looks honestly impressed.
“Thanks.” I give a little shrug and step back. As he bends over the table again, I glance at Ryland. “So what’s the deal with you guys and Carson Purcell? Why do you all hate each other so much?”
His eyes narrow, and he crosses his arms over his chest. “Why? What did Marcus tell you?”