Sophie shrugged, her gaze focused on the still full table since Babs had sank no balls. “I don’t date much, but when I do, I make it clear that they have no say in my friendships.”
She did? That was news to me.
“And that works? In my experience guys think everything is negotiable.” Babs watched Sophie closely and I wondered what she was searching for, because all I saw was annoyance.
“I haven’t been serious about anyone in a long time, and three dates isn’t long enough to even meet my friends, never mind have an opinion on them. Are you seeing anyone, Babs?” I wondered if the question was professionally related, or personally.
“Nope, but I’m hoping.” She slid a gaze over her shoulder and aimed it at me with a coy smile.
“Right,” Sophie said tightly. “Well if you get tired of the traditional meat market, matchmaking is my specialty.” Sophie produced a card and then proceeded to sink four balls in a row with a competitive smile I’d only witnessed when we were kids and she was determined to prove she could best any guy at any sport.
Her behavior was definitely colored by jealousy, and as much as I wanted to think Ma and Babs were right, that making Sophie jealous was the way to go, I didn’t know if it was friendship jealousy or romantic jealousy. But that reminded me of something else.
“Hey Soph, you think you can get me one of those TFL gift certificates? Ma said something that makes me think she’s ready to think about dating again, and I know you were thinking of getting some older clients on your roster. Maybe it could be a win-win for you both?”
“Aw, how sweet!” Babs cooed, mischief lighting her eyes. “That is so adorable, Stone. That’s how I know you’re one of the good ones, because you put your own discomfort to the side to help your mama find love.”
Babs was laying it on pretty thick, but I was pretty sure I knew what she was doing. Maybe. “Uh, thanks. Drinks?”
“I’d love a skinny margarita, Stone. How about you Sophie?”
She reached for a glass with a half-hearted grin. “Got the fat girl margarita right here, thanks.”
Babs frowned. “You’re kidding, right? Those are the kind of curves that make men stupid. I can only guess this hottie right here is the reason you’re single…ever.”
Sophie’s cheeks flushed red, and she took several long sips from her glass. “Thanks Babs, but we both know you’re every guy’s type.”
She snorted. “Not the right guys.” Her gaze fell to me again. “Apparently.”
“What are you looking for in a man?” Sophie had asked the question so many times that it sounded less than sincere, but Babs didn’t notice, and I didn’t stay for the answer, instead heading to the bar for more alcohol.
This was a terrible idea and it wasn’t even mine. Running into Babs earlier had been purely by accident, and the moment my gaze landed on Sophie, she’d pounced. It was going to backfire tremendously, I could feel it.
“You are playing with fire, my friend.” Xander clapped me on the back with a loud booming laugh that was far too amused for my liking. “Sophie looks pissed.” He ordered more drinks and I glared. “What?”
“I was here first,” I said, sounding childish even to my own ears.
“Sorry man, I pissed Mara off and promised green apple margaritas to make up for it.” His smile changed and I wondered what was going on between those two. “Put his order on my tab,” he told the bartender, who nodded and turned away.
“And I’m not playing at anything,” I growled. “This was all Babs’ idea. Thinks a little competition will open Sophie’s eyes. I’m not so sure.” A quick glance at the pool table showed the game had ended, no doubt with Sophie as the victor.
“She does look pretty pissed, so maybe it is a good thing?” Xander grabbed the pitcher and two longnecks from the bar and nodded for me to follow.
“Maybe she’s just jealous that I have another friend.”
Xander stopped and turned to me. “You’re not that stupid. Please tell me you’re not actually that stupid.” I blinked at his words. “Dude, she’s not mad that you have another friend in the sandbox. That is the look of jealousy, my friend.”
I chanced another look at the women talking. Babs was incredibly friendly, smiling at Sophie and touching her arm, but Sophie had on what I called her Stranger Armor. That defensiveness she wore with all new people until she determined if they could be trusted or not.
“I want to believe it, which means I probably shouldn’t.” There had been a few times over the years I thought that maybe Sophie had started to see me as something more than old reliable Stone, but just as quickly, she’d start dating some preppy douchebag. The exact kind of guy her parents would have chosen for her. “Nope. Not getting my hopes up. Not unless I have a clear sign.”