ball, sinking the number two ball into the side pocket and the nine ball into the corner pocket.
“Good game, baby,” Angel said calmly, while Max stared at the pool table with his mouth hanging open and his stick dangling loosely in his hand.
“What the fuck did you just do, Angel? I blinked and the nine ball was in the pocket…holy shit! Where the hell did you learn that?”
“Darlin’, when playing nine ball you should break on the head string at a medium paced speed. Otherwise, when you break hard like you did using every muscle you have in your arm it’s going to push the nine out of the protection of the center and close to a pocket. You have to always remember to keep the nine ball in the center or else the game will be over very quickly.
Then you’re left owing up your side of the bet.” Angel’s smile shined brighter than a hundred-watt light bulb.
“Okay…so you hustled me. I got that part, but again, where did you learn that?” Max was still shocked.
“I went to Penn State on a partial billiard’s scholarship.” He winked at Max .
Max stalked toward Angel. “Why didn’t you tell me that before I agreed to that damn bet?” he said, wrapping his arms around Angel and sucking hard on his neck.
“Mmmm. Fuck.” Angel groaned. “Well, you didn’t ask and since you were concentrating on other things when we walked in, I guess you didn’t notice the pictures over there on the wall.”
Max lifted his head from Angel’s neck and walked over to the wall that held several trophies, awards, and accomplishments. Not only did he have a partial billiard’s scholarship, he also had an academic scholarship. He was nine-ball champion for three straight years. No shit. Max’s eyes were glued to the picture encased in a polished mahogany frame of Angel leaning over a pool table preparing to take the winning shot. His long midnight mane hung over his left shoulder, fanning out onto the green felt. His dark eyes gleamed with concentration. Priceless.
“You continue to amaze me, handsome.” Max’s smile was full of adoration.
“Flattery will get you anything you want, darlin’. C’mon, I’m starved.”
Smile. “Me too.”
They headed toward the door while sliding into their light blazers. Angel set the alarm and locked his door. They stepped out into the cool breeze of the night. The moon was bright and high above their heads, as if it shown itself just for them. Feeling elated, Angel hooked Max’s elbow, spun him around and slammed their strong chests together. He leaned in close and growled low in Max’s ear. “My favorite song is ‘Moves Like Jagger.’”
Angel released his grip and strolled off the porch as if he owned the world. Great. I hate that fucking song, Max thought. But a bet is a bet .
Chapter Nine
The restaurant Max chose astonished Angel. The Cobalt Mirage was in the Grand Hilton Hotel at the end of Atlantic Avenue, thirty-two blocks from Angel’s club. It was one of the most expensive restaurants on the oceanfront and it usually required a reservation made a month in advance.
Angel would never dare insult Max and ask him how he’d gotten the reservation so quickly. He’s trying to impress me…nice.
Dinner was phenomenal, but the conversation was even better. They talked about so much that Angel began to feel like he really knew the man destined to be his. Max told him about his overprotective older brother, and how he had taken care of Max since Max was very young. His aunt raised them after his mom passed. He spoke of how he always wanted to be a firefighter. His man was so wonderful and interesting as he talked about the goals he’d set in his life, and what goals he had for the future. But he was also interested in hearing about Angel’s plans too.
Angel explained how he wanted to open another club on the boardwalk.
How important his extended family, his bar family, was to his life, and all they had been through together. Angel told Max about his
“Good game, baby,” Angel said calmly, while Max stared at the pool table with his mouth hanging open and his stick dangling loosely in his hand.
“What the fuck did you just do, Angel? I blinked and the nine ball was in the pocket…holy shit! Where the hell did you learn that?”
“Darlin’, when playing nine ball you should break on the head string at a medium paced speed. Otherwise, when you break hard like you did using every muscle you have in your arm it’s going to push the nine out of the protection of the center and close to a pocket. You have to always remember to keep the nine ball in the center or else the game will be over very quickly.
Then you’re left owing up your side of the bet.” Angel’s smile shined brighter than a hundred-watt light bulb.
“Okay…so you hustled me. I got that part, but again, where did you learn that?” Max was still shocked.
“I went to Penn State on a partial billiard’s scholarship.” He winked at Max .
Max stalked toward Angel. “Why didn’t you tell me that before I agreed to that damn bet?” he said, wrapping his arms around Angel and sucking hard on his neck.
“Mmmm. Fuck.” Angel groaned. “Well, you didn’t ask and since you were concentrating on other things when we walked in, I guess you didn’t notice the pictures over there on the wall.”
Max lifted his head from Angel’s neck and walked over to the wall that held several trophies, awards, and accomplishments. Not only did he have a partial billiard’s scholarship, he also had an academic scholarship. He was nine-ball champion for three straight years. No shit. Max’s eyes were glued to the picture encased in a polished mahogany frame of Angel leaning over a pool table preparing to take the winning shot. His long midnight mane hung over his left shoulder, fanning out onto the green felt. His dark eyes gleamed with concentration. Priceless.
“You continue to amaze me, handsome.” Max’s smile was full of adoration.
“Flattery will get you anything you want, darlin’. C’mon, I’m starved.”
Smile. “Me too.”
They headed toward the door while sliding into their light blazers. Angel set the alarm and locked his door. They stepped out into the cool breeze of the night. The moon was bright and high above their heads, as if it shown itself just for them. Feeling elated, Angel hooked Max’s elbow, spun him around and slammed their strong chests together. He leaned in close and growled low in Max’s ear. “My favorite song is ‘Moves Like Jagger.’”
Angel released his grip and strolled off the porch as if he owned the world. Great. I hate that fucking song, Max thought. But a bet is a bet .
Chapter Nine
The restaurant Max chose astonished Angel. The Cobalt Mirage was in the Grand Hilton Hotel at the end of Atlantic Avenue, thirty-two blocks from Angel’s club. It was one of the most expensive restaurants on the oceanfront and it usually required a reservation made a month in advance.
Angel would never dare insult Max and ask him how he’d gotten the reservation so quickly. He’s trying to impress me…nice.
Dinner was phenomenal, but the conversation was even better. They talked about so much that Angel began to feel like he really knew the man destined to be his. Max told him about his overprotective older brother, and how he had taken care of Max since Max was very young. His aunt raised them after his mom passed. He spoke of how he always wanted to be a firefighter. His man was so wonderful and interesting as he talked about the goals he’d set in his life, and what goals he had for the future. But he was also interested in hearing about Angel’s plans too.
Angel explained how he wanted to open another club on the boardwalk.
How important his extended family, his bar family, was to his life, and all they had been through together. Angel told Max about his
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