Improvisation by Karis Walsh

he said. “I think I need a cigarette after watching you play like that.”
    “Stop,” Tina said with a grin, running her fingers over the violin. “You’re making her blush.”
    Jan joined in the group’s laughter, but the sound she made sounded rough and false. She had felt the song as if it was meant only for her, but the man’s words helped her return to common sense. Tina oozed sexuality. Her charisma was natural and affected everyone around her. The intimate way she had played hadn’t been intended for Jan. She couldn’t let herself be fooled into thinking it had.
     
    *
     
    Tina numbly played a few more tunes with the group before she excused herself and went into the bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face and leaned against the counter, staring at the mirror. Her high ponytail, meant to keep her hair out of her face while she played, revealed her flushed neck and chest. The small red mark made by her shoulder rest, usually prominent on her pale skin, was barely discernible against the color of her arousal. She still wasn’t sure what had happened while she was on the stage. She was accustomed to using music to attract women, to seduce them, but never before had she herself been seduced. Her mind had fabricated a story with Jan in the lead role, and she had simply poured the images into the music she played.
    A mountain spring, a lush green meadow, sun heating her back as she braced her arms on either side of Jan’s face. Kissing her lips, nuzzling her hair, nipping at her neck and collarbone. The feel of Jan’s hands sliding up her back and into her hair. Pushing her lower.
    “Oh my God,” she said to her reflection. “You need to stop.”
    She paced back and forth in the small space. Okay, she was obviously attracted to Jan. And, just as obviously, they were not suited to each other in any way except physically. Tina would easily be able to have a few nights of fun before she moved on, went home. But would Jan be able to just have sex without figuring the affair—and Tina—into her life plan? No. She was too serious and alone. Maybe she had been watching Tina as if she was about to pounce on her, but she wouldn’t be satisfied with a brief fling. And brief was all Tina was about.
    The pep talk worked, and Tina returned to the table with more composure. She needed to avoid Jan until she could find some more appropriate female companionship. Get this out of her system, whatever it was.
    The musicians were taking a short break, and Peter and Chloe were settled cozily in a conversation. Tina looked around for something safe to occupy her and Jan.
    “Want to play some pool?” she asked. A nice, unromantic game of pool, she added silently.
    “Sure,” Jan said, following Tina to an empty table at the back of the room. She sorted through the cue sticks, putting more attention on the task than seemed necessary, while Tina expertly racked the balls. “Why don’t you break,” Jan said.
    “Okay.” Tina hefted a couple of cues before she found a comfortable one. “But I should warn you, I’m good at any game you can practice in a bar.”
    “Cocky. Care to back your bragging with a bet?”
    Tina’s mind ran through several wagering possibilities. Trouble was, she wouldn’t care if she won or lost with any of them. “Do you mean money?”
    Jan hesitated long enough for Tina to suspect that her thoughts had been roaming in the same direction. “Of course I mean money. Twenty?”
    “You’re on,” Tina said, striking the cue ball with a loud crack. She watched an orange ball drop into a pocket. “Solids.”
    She sank the seven but missed the next shot. Jan stepped up to the table. “And I should warn you,” she said.
    “Yeah?” Tina asked, focused more on Jan’s ass than her words.
    “I doubt I spend nearly as much time as you do in bars, but I happen to know a thing or two about geometry. And pool is all about angles and lines.”
    She knocked the thirteen ball into the side pocket