matters of the heart

6

I wasn't going to play because of Bradley here but I came to have a good time after a hard week of practicing and I'm determined to do just that. Even if it means playing his games. I know one of us is walking away with her and his last name isn't Wilson.

She's my game tonight. And I'd be damned if I let Bradley take her.

Back when we were friends we always made sure we didn't end up as competitors but now under the dimly lit chandelier of the club, I want nothing more than to beat him at his own game.

There's only the 8 ball left and the atmosphere is f**king tense as we wait for him to take his shot. He's got a pretty good shot from where I'm standing and if he manages to pocket the ball then I'm fucked.

A slight smirk graces my face when Bradley's finger slips as he takes his shot. I walk to my end of the table, chalking my cue as I do this before getting into position behind the cue ball. The best thing to do while shooting is to get as low to the table as possible, your chin only a few inches from the felt. You can accurately line up your shots the closer your eyes are to the surface of the table.

Bradley doesn't walk away from the table but stands in the line of my shot instead, a tactic he always uses to distract his opponents.

The guy's got a f**king problem.

I focus on the eight ball in front of me, ignoring his malicious gaze.

I shoot and wait for the cue ball to sink the eight ball into the pocket at the corner of the table before straightening my back. "Take that f**kers." I flip Wesley, Dante and Grayson off before turning to hi-five a grinning Sawyer.

"And a new king is born." Ryan smiles from where he's seating. He's finally stopped eating the face of the girl straddling him. She looks pissed.

"Wait. He didn't call the shot." Grayson, one of the best shooting guard we have on the team and Bradley's occasional lapdog calls, his dark eyes meeting mine as his bushy brows rises "you're supposed to call the shot before sinking an 8ball it's like the number one rule."

"Dude what the f**k are you talking about?" Wesley asks, confusion evident in his voice. I spot Bradley walking to a poster by the wall. And that's when I realise that the little f**ker didn't slip. He missed on purpose because he knew there's no way I'd miss my shot. And since we didn't talk about the rules from the start of the game, he managed to sneak one up one me.

"Well the club's rules states that you don't necessarily have to call the shot before sinking the object balls but you most definitely call the shot when it comes to the 8 ball." He explains, reading out the rules.

Sawyer walks to the poster to read it for himself "It's a slop." He shakes his head before rolling his eyes. "But since it's the 8ball it means you lost."

F**k. F*ck.

"Are you f*cking kidding?" Ryan asks unbelievably.

My jaw hardens and I try to control the impulse I'm feeling to use my fists to wipe the smirk off Bradley's face. I know he wants a reaction out of me but I'm not going to give him the satisfaction. So I plaster on a fake smile which somehow seems to piss him off.

"Rules are rules." I wanna break your f*cking face against the wall "drinks on me and he gets the girl."

"What girl?" Sawyer's eyes darts between Bradley and I as he throws us the question.

"They bet on that Lorraine chick. You know the one that's friends with Elle Sparrows from our Political Science class." Dante explains, hopping off the high table he was sitting on to grab a cue stick from the wall. Dante wasn't impressed by the whole thing especially since he's had a thing for that Elle Chick for a while now but he knew not to talk me out of it. He knows how much I want to fuck Bradley up. He's not going to get in the way of that. "I think it's f*cked up."