Bring Down the Stars

I shot her a look and downed the rest of the pint—more than over halfway full.

Ruby laughed as I

plonked the empty glass on the bar. “Hallelujah, girl.” She finished off hers and signaled to the bartender for another.

Pear cider isn’t the strongest drink in the world, but my slight weight and short height felt the effects immediately. The pleasant buzz gave me the confidence to walk over to the pool tables and step into an established clique of sporty guys and their girlfriends.

I knew, instinctively, that Connor wouldn’t act differently toward me in front of the girls or brush me off in front of his bros. And I was right. The second he saw me, he stopped mid-conversation, and his broad smile widened even further.

“Hey, Wes,” Connor called, keeping his eyes on mine as the words went sideways. “Look who’s here.”

I followed the tilt of his chin to the three dartboards mounted on the bar’s back wall. Weston turned around, the dart poised in his hand. His eyes widened slightly as he saw me.

So did mine.

Ruby leaned in. “The Amherst Asshole, in the flesh.”

I nodded. Ruby smiled.

“Not bad.”

His handsomeness was equally as potent as Connor’s, yet cut from a completely different cloth. Where Connor was broad and built, Weston was tall and lean-muscled. Connor wore a white shirt that hugged his shoulders, and his dark hair was shorter and spiked. Weston wore black and his gold hair fell over his eyes in the front. Still looking at me, he tossed it out of the way with a jerk of his head.

Connor strode up to us. “Hey, you made it.”

“We did,” I said. “This is my roommate, Ruby. Ruby Hammond, this is Connor Drake.”

It felt strange introducing them since Ruby was more acquainted with Connor’s reputation than I was. Connor greeted her with a friendly smile, then turned immediately back to me.

“Your next drink’s on me, I insist.” He looked back over his shoulder. “Wes, get over here and say hi. Let’s get a game going.”

Weston turned back to his dartboard and lanced the little arrow straight at the bullseye, then moved to join us.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hey.”

“This is my roommate, Ruby.”

His blue-green gaze flickered to her and back. “Hey.”

“A pleasure,” Ruby said with a smirk.

“Until we get some shots into him, my good buddy Wes doesn’t speak unless spoken to,” Connor said with a laugh.

He introduced us to a bunch of his friends, all of them baseball or basketball players. Ruby knew a few of them and was immediately absorbed into a circle of talk.

“Let’s rack ‘em up,” Connor said to Weston. “Decker, you in?”

A dark-haired guy leaning against the wall raised his beer bottle in salute.

Connor turned to me. “Do you play?”

“I’ve played a few times,” I said, with a smile I hoped was flirtatious. I sipped the last of my ale and traded him my pint glass for his pool cue. “Can I break?”

Connor raised his brows. “Be my guest.”

I bent over the table, slid the cue back and forth over my hand, then took my shot. The crack reverberated through the tavern as the cue ball smashed into the triangle of balls, scattering them across the green felt. Two striped balls sunk in the corner and side pockets.