Fated Nirvana || Completed

Chapter 38 || Pool Breaks.

     Turning the corner, he tugged at my ponytail that swung back and forth. "Come on, answer the question, I want to hear you say it." he teased.

     "Why? To feed your ego?"

     He grinned harder. "Of course not. My ego needs no feeding, it's as big as it can get. I just want too prove that I'm right."

     I huffed at him. "Fine, you got me."

     A satisfied expression settled onto his face as he pushed at the heavy metal door that clearly led into the garage. "You remember that, love. Always."

      I almost wanted to say, how could I ever forget? The man has all but invaded all my five senses. He has put himself so deep into my heart that even if you were to tear my heart out, and rip it open, you couldn't get him out. Not because his not there, but because his everywhere. My whole heart, it's filled of him.

He flicked the light's on, and the garage came into view. A few things stood out right away, but mainly it was the big coca cola painting that stretched across on of the walls. Bright, bold, and creative. I pointed to it. "Who painted that? Or did that come with the house?"

     He glanced towards the painting, leading us down the stairs into the garage. "Ash and Aster, took them months to finish it." he answered.

     I examined it for a second longer, taking in all the little thing's they hid in the painting with different shades of red. Cherries, motorbikes, strawberries, autumn leaves, racecars, and even little chili peppers. It was a painting inside a painting and the more you looked, the more you found.

    Around the garage, Mateo gathered all the things we needed and set the balls up in a rack. Which I knew to be the triangle shaped organizer that kept the balls lined together. Yes, I researched pool. I knew the basics, and some rules. I know about the table, the balls, and even the chalk and what it's for. I wasn't going to come into this clueless, no way José-ah.

    I took another second to look around in the meantime, noting the punching bag that hung behind the grand pool table. And let me just say that it has definitely seen better days. On the other walls hung some bikes, and scooters were plugged in by them, charging I would assume. A comfy looking black couch sat in one corner, stretched into an L shape, and at the end of it stood a mini fridge. A few workout machines were scattered around the place too.

     I paused on Mateo behind the table. "You spend a lot of time in here?" I asked.

"We all do. It's our own place in a way."

      I nodded, imagining that. Everything about this place told me that people were always using it. The place felt homie in its own way, and like it had an open invitation to be hung out in. It's exactly what I wished for growing up. To hangout with your siblings, to have a place we all can be with each other, and have a bond. I didn't get that, but it made me happy that he does.

     He straight at the table, grabbing my attention and holding the stick out that I knew was called a Cues. "Ready to learn?" he asked, waving the stick.

     I nodded ecstatically and walked over him, well shamelessly checking him out. Because how could you not? The man was ripped and called to look upon. From the way his arms were thick and formed, to the way his chest lifted in that black shirt and made you want to run your fingers across it.

     I grabbed the stick from him, my finger's brushing his and wrapped my fist around the stick, feeling the wood, and how it felt so smooth. "Okay." I said, tossing the stick into my other hand. "I know you're supposed to line it up with the white ball, and try to make one of those balls into the hole to determine if your stripes or solids, correct?" I asked, pausing to look up at him.