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As I pulled open the door, Daire stayed planted right where he was on the sidewalk, like he was debating whether to go in or tell me to screw off. But then he sighed and put out his cigarette on the bottom of his boot before heading inside the busy pool hall.

This wasn’t the kind of place Daire went to often, that was for sure, but I’d been to most of them throughout the city, though I’d had to change up the locations often. Regulars weren’t fond of pool sharks.

“We already know how this is gonna end,” Daire said as we both scoped out the scene.

I couldn’t help but smirk. “Admitting defeat already?”

“This is the only place you can kick my ass, and you know it.”

“True. But I don’t plan to kick yours tonight.” When Daire lifted a brow in question, I nodded toward a table of two guys already playing. “We’ll be kicking theirs.”

Daire followed my stare, and as we watched them take their shots, I filed away what I could see as our future opponents’ strengths and weaknesses to use to our advantage. Although once they got a look at me, I doubted they’d see me as a threat. For some reason, most didn’t until it was too late. Donovan called it my “angel effect,” that because I had what he deemed a sweet, angelic innocence about me, it was easy for me to catch others off guard. So I did what anyone in my position would—I played into it. And won a shit-ton of money every time I did.

“A couple of beers,” I told the bartender, and had to put my hand over Daire’s mouth before he could protest.

Once the bartender walked off to grab our order, I lowered my hand, and Daire cursed.

“A beer? You don’t even drink those.”

“I don’t?” He was right, but it was the fact that he noticed that sent a flutter through my chest.

Daire’s eyes narrowed on mine. “No. You don’t. And neither the fuck do I.”

“We do tonight. Trust me.”

As the bartender dropped off our beers and uncapped them, I slid some cash across the bar.

Daire was looking at the bottle as though it were full of piss. “Care to fill me in on whatever’s goin’ on in your head?”

I forced myself to take a sip of the beer without making a face. “First, we’ve both already had a few drinks and we don’t need to get sloppy. Second, holding a beer makes us nonthreatening—” I stopped and realized who I was talking to. “Well, makes me less of a threat, and you need all the help you can get, you scary bastard.”

I swore I almost saw Daire crack a smile at that, but if he had, it was gone just as quickly.

“Once they see you make your first shot, they’ll be onto you.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’ll just have some help from a better player.” I shrugged. “Someone to show me the ropes. I might just have beginner’s luck.”

Daire snorted and shook his head. “Never would’ve taken you for a hustler.”

“I guess there’s a lot we don’t know about each other,” I said, twisting to face him. Part of me stirred at getting to show Daire a side of me he hadn’t seen. Showing him something I was good at, since all he’d seen of me lately was being a victim, and that’s not who I was. Not by a long shot.

Another reason I didn’t need another, stronger drink? Because I wasn’t sure I’d be able to resist trying for another kiss if I had more alcohol in me, and right now we just needed to reset our friendship and have a good time. Not the easiest thing to do when all I seemed to notice now was how dangerously attractive Daire was. How had I never noticed it before?

Oh, right. The perpetual scowl that warned everyone off, not to mention his oh-so-friendly demeanor. But I’d gotten a glimpse of what lay behind the mask, and it was too intriguing to forget.

“For this to work, I’m gonna need you to play along,” I said. “Whatever I say, just go with it.”

“Do I look like someone who follows?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll let you lead in other ways.”

It wasn’t often I surprised Daire, but I saw the quick flare of his nostrils, and there it was again. The heat between us sparking, but not yet igniting.

He took a long swig of his beer, barely masking his disgust, and then nodded toward the tables. “Let’s go fuck with these assholes.”

I grinned and tapped my bottle against his, and then let him lead us to the table I’d pointed out earlier.

“You two almost done?” Daire said to the guys as one called out the left corner pocket to make his final shot.

“No,” the one bent over the table said, and then aimed true, pocketing the eight ball. He stood up and looked us over with an assessing gaze. “You can join the next round if you’ve got the cash.”

Pretending to frown, I tugged on Daire’s arm and said loud enough for them to hear, “What does that mean? We have to play for money?”

“You’re catching on.” The guy smirked, adjusting his backward ball cap. “That a problem?”

“We were hoping for our own table,” Daire said coolly, crossing his arms as I fidgeted with the sleeve of my shirt.

“That’s too bad. Not a free table around here for the rest of the night.”

Daire looked down at me, and I made a show of biting down on my lower lip nervously.

“I want to play, but—” I started, and Daire cut me off.

“Then we’re in,” he told the guy, who was grinning like he’d just won the lottery. Probably thinking he was going to empty our pockets tonight.

“Good. We’ll start at…” He glanced at his friend, who leaned in to whisper something in his ear. “Five hundred.”

I blanched, playing my part. “Dollars?”

The guy shrugged. “If you can’t handle it—”

“We can handle it,” Daire said, and I wanted to laugh at how easily they were falling into our trap. Five hundred bucks for what we were going to sweep in a matter of minutes? Hell yes.

After peeling off a few bills and slapping them on the edge of the table, Daire grabbed a couple of cue sticks off the wall. He handed one to me, and I followed his lead by chalking up the tip.

After introductions—the guy in the hat was Dale, and his friend was something I couldn’t pronounce and decided to rename as Chip in my head—Dale racked up the balls.

“Tell you what,” he said, “we’ll let you break first.”

“You can do that,” I muttered, sticking close to Daire’s side.

He shook his head and pushed me toward the head of the table. “You have to learn sometime.”

“But—”

“Just do it like I showed you.” Daire moved in beside me, so close I could feel the heat of his body through his clothes and had to suppress a shiver. He moved one of my hands up the cue and reached around me to position the other near the bottom.

Holy shit. I’d never been so surrounded by him before, not even when he’d kissed me, and it was all I could do to keep playing my part when all I wanted to do was sink into him behind me.

“Now bend over.” His breath was warm on my neck as I followed along and tried not to take his words out of the context he meant them in. “Aim hard and fast.”

I nodded, and the warmth of him left me as he moved aside to let me break. I centered the cue ball, letting my hand slip so it rolled out of my grasp.

Chip and Dale didn’t bother hiding their chuckles as I scrambled to grab the ball and put it back in place. Glancing over my shoulder at Daire like I needed the support, he winked at me—fucking winked at me—and I turned off the role I’d been playing and easily slipped into one I knew I did well.

My first shot slammed the cue ball into the others, breaking them swiftly and sending several into pockets.

“Oh fuck,” I heard one of the guys say, but I ignored them as I zeroed in on my next shot.

And then my next.

And my next.

I swept the table without letting them take a shot, and when I landed the eight ball in a center pocket, I straightened and smiled at their shocked faces. Then I scooped up the money and fanned my face.

“Five hundred, was it?”

Chip—no, that one was Dale—looked at the empty table, humiliation and anger replacing the initial outrage as he turned back to me. The realization he’d just been taken hit him like a swift uppercut to the jaw.

Huh, would you look at that? It seemed all this time spent around Daire had me thinking like him.

“You played us,” Dale said, narrowing his eyes.

“Technically, I didn’t play anyone.” I couldn’t help my smug grin as I leaned against the table. “I’m just that good.”

“You’re a fucking cheat.” Chip stepped up beside his buddy, balling his hands into fists by his sides, and this was usually the part where I cut and run. As soon as I sank the eight ball and pocketed the cash.

But I figured with Daire standing watch, I’d take a second to enjoy my moment in the spotlight.

“I didn’t cheat.”

Dale threw his pool cue on the table. “Then what would you call it?”

“Reading the room. You sized me up as someone you could beat. I sized you up as— wrong.”

“You hustled us. You’re a shark.”

“You held the table ransom for five hundred. I just freed the hostage.”

Dale stepped toward me all but vibrating with fury, and before I could blink, Daire was in front of me, the discarded pool stick in his hand, the tip of it under Dale’s chin.

“Take another step and I’ll shove this thing so far up your ass you’ll be using chalk as a Chapstick.”

My eyes widened at the threat, but I couldn’t help but think how hot it was to have Daire defending me. Super hot.

“Fuck you and your little blond bitch.”

An ominous growl rumbled out of Daire, and I quickly sprang into action, reaching for his arm.

“Daire, stop. It’s just a game.”

I tugged on his shirt, hoping to get through to him before this turned into an above ground fight club. That was the last thing I wanted.

“Let’s just go,” I said. Daire looked down at where my hand rested on his arm, and I squeezed. “Please?”

He grunted and threw the pool stick aside, reaching for my hand.

Daire was holding my hand.

My breath caught as our fingers touched, and it was as if the entire world vanished and we were the only two there. The heat from his hand raced up my arm and infused my whole body. His grip tightened and he led me away from the table, away from danger, then pushed out onto the busy street.

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Other Titles Within this Series

INFAMOUS PARK AVENUE PRINCE

Park Avenue Princes #1

INSATIABLE AVENUE PRINCE

Park Avenue Princes #2

SCANDALOUS PARK AVENUE PRINCE

Park Avenue Princes #3

About the Author

Brooke Blaine is a USA Today Bestselling Author best known for writing romantic comedy and M/M romance. Her novels lead with humor and heart, but Brooke never shies away from throwing in something extra naughty that will scandalize her conservative Southern family for life (bless their hearts). She’s a choc-o-holic, lives for eighties bands (which means she thinks guyliner is totally underrated), believes it’s always wine o’clock, and lives with the coolest cat on the planet—her Ragdoll/Maine Coon mix, Jackson Agador Spartacus.

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Ella Frank is the USA Today Bestselling author of the Temptation series, including Try, Take, Trust, Tease, Tate, and True, and is the co-author of the fan-favorite PresLocke Series. Her Exquisite series has been praised as “scorching hot!” and “enticingly sexy!”

Some of her favorite authors include Tiffany Reisz, Kresley Cole, Riley Hart, J.R. Ward, Erika Wilde, Gena Showalter, and Carly Philips.

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