A Dose of Pretty Poison: A Brother’s Best Friend Romance (Pretty Poison Trilogy Book 1)

There’s something relaxing about shooting some pool. There’s no timer, no expectations, and when you’re playing by yourself, no rules either. The last week and a half hasn’t been the most eventful I’ve ever had. It’s mostly consisted of hanging out in my room while listening to music, playing video games, and dodging Cam’s invitations to come hang out.

It wasn’t until I heard my mom and Devin start to whisper to each other about me, asking if I’m depressed or if I did something to lose all my friends. I realized then it’s probably smart to get out of the house for something other than work and hockey practice.

So, pool it is.

I bend over and line up to take my shot when the last voice I expected to hear hits my ears.

“Wow. You still have a pulse after all.”

Laiken.

I should’ve known she was going to confront me at some point. There are plenty of girls who would let me get away with ghosting them after a hookup, but she’s not one of them. She has too much self-respect for that. I was just hoping to get a little more time to stop thinking about her before throwing myself into the lion’s den.

“What are you doing here, Lai?”

She shrugs and walks around the side of the table, inspecting the pool cues hanging on the wall. “I’ve always wanted to take one of these and break it over my knee so I could use it as a weapon like in a Jackie Chan movie.”

It sounds threatening, but she doesn’t scare me. “Are you saying you want to hurt me? Really living up to that nickname aren’t you, Rochester?”

Looking over at me, her eyes rake over my body as if she’s sizing me up. “I’ve considered it.”

I huff in amusement. “I guess I deserve that.”

“You think?” She turns back to the pool cues and grabs one. “But you’ve gone to great lengths to not have that conversation, so how about a bet instead?”

My brows raise. “A bet?”

“One game. If I win, you have to stop avoiding me—and don’t say you’re not because you are.” My mouth clamps shut as she takes the words right out of them. “Stop claiming you’re too busy to come hang out when you and I both know you’re sulking at home with a bag of Doritos.”

It’s barbecue chips, but whatever. “I don’t sulk.”

She smirks, knowing she doesn’t believe a bit of that. “Sure you don’t.”

I shouldn’t indulge her. Doing exactly that is how I ended up knowing how good her pussy tastes. But a part of me is curious about this bet.

“And what if I win?”

Walking around to the other side of the table, she looks like she’s in over her head. “Whatever you want.”

I let myself consider it for a moment. It’s not like she’s asking for anything that wasn’t going to happen eventually. I can only get away with not coming around for so long before people start to ask questions, and I have a feeling Cam is getting close to that point anyway.

Glancing down at the pool table and then back up at her, I can’t help but smile. “Have you ever even played pool before?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, but you hit the balls into the pockets. How hard can it be?”

Okay, I’ll bite for now. “You have yourself a deal, Rochester.”

IT’S A MASSACRE, AND that’s putting it nicely. All but two of her striped balls are still on the table while I’m aiming for my last ball before I go for the eight. At first, it was tense and neither of us said much of anything, but the more annoyed she gets when I sink a shot, the more I can’t resist teasing her about it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she groans as I make it.

I smile and bounce my brows at her. “Not so easy, is it?”

“No.”

Walking around the table, I look for a good angle to get this shot, but it’s not possible. Her balls are in my way. I lean over and take a random shot, sending the eight ball into the middle of the table but nowhere near a pocket.

It’s her turn.

Her eyes narrow as she tries to focus, but even the way she lines up for the shot, I can tell she’s doing it wrong. Her fingers aren’t placed right, and she’s looking at it from the wrong angle.

“Stop,” I say, taking pity on her.

I lean my pool cue against the table and step behind her. It’s dangerous, allowing myself to be this close to her. I know that. But when the fuck have I ever been able to follow the rules when it comes to her?

“Relax your shoulders.” I gently push them down and then move to fix her hand. “Put it between your fingers and let that guide your shot.”

She does as I say, and it’s closer, but she still misses. Her head drops in frustration, and I chuckle.

“Try again.”

Getting back into position, she does what I showed her, but she still looks uncomfortable. I place my hand on her back and run it down her spine.

“You’re too tense,” I tell her. “You need to loosen up a little.”

She sighs. “I just can’t seem to find a way to hold this thing where it’s comfortable. And every time I go to shoot, it feels like I don’t have enough control over it.”

I glance around the room to make sure there’s no one we know here, and then give in, stepping up behind her. My chest presses against her back as I put my hands over hers to help her guide the shot.

“Having the proper stance is critical in pool,” I murmur, my lips near her ear. “Then, you imagine there being a line pointing exactly where the ball is going to go. You aim, keeping your eye on the ball, and then you shoot.”

We shoot the ball together, watching as it hits one right into the corner pocket. Her grin widens excitedly as she glances back at me.

“See? It’s not so hard.”

She looks proud of herself as she smiles at me. “Show me one more time?”

“This is a bet, Rochester. You want me to make myself lose?”

Like she knows exactly what she’s doing, she looks up at me through hooded lashes. “Please?”

That’s all it takes. One little word and I’m jolted full force back into the morning we spent in her bedroom—when she begged for me and promised to be a good girl.

“Fine,” I agree, trying anything to shake the memory from my mind.

I can’t be thinking about that if I have any chance of leaving here the same way I came—by myself. She puts herself in position to take the shot, bent over the table with her ass sticking out. God, it would be so easy to fuck her like that. Watch her grip onto the table for dear life as I thrust into her so hard the balls rattle in the pockets.

I shake the thoughts from my head, trying desperately to focus on anything else.

“Like this?” Laiken asks, but she’s holding the stick wrong again.

“No.” I lean over her and adjust her hand. “Like this.”

“And then I just hit it?”

My hand runs down her arm until it settles on her side. “Aim first. Then hit it.”

She looks like she’s going to take the shot, but she glances back at me before she does. “What about that one ball? It’s in the way.”

It’s not, but I can see why she would think so from this angle. “You’ll clear it. You just have to hit the side of the cue ball instead of the middle.”

I move the stick just slightly, but it takes me getting a little closer so I can see exactly where she’s aiming. And that’s when her ass grinds against me.

It’s a slick move, I’m not going to lie. If I was drunk or hadn’t spent the last week and a half beating myself up over what happened, it may have worked. But it won’t. Not tonight anyway.

A breathy laugh leaves my mouth as I drop my head against her shoulder. “I’m playing right into your hand, aren’t I?”

“A little bit. Yeah,” she answers proudly.

She takes the shot, but it goes wide, not only missing her ball, but lining my shot up perfectly. I don’t move as she spins around, but maybe I should have because she’s so close, I can feel the warmth of her breath on my face.

“You don’t give up easy, do you?” I question.

“Not really how I was raised.”

She’s right there. Kissing her could be so fucking effortless. All it would take is moving a couple inches. It would be that simple.

“And what if you got your way? What then?”

Her fingers run up the back of my neck and lace into my hair, massaging gently. “Kiss me and find out.”

I smirk, licking my lips as I glance down at hers. And as I start to move in, her eyes flutter closed.

Only to open when she hears the distinct sound of the eight ball going into the side pocket.

“I win.”

I step back, putting some much-needed distance between us as Laiken huffs in annoyance. She puts the pool cue back and runs her fingers through her hair.

“Okay,” she says. “Fair enough. What do you want?”

Tossing the pool stick onto the table, I keep my eyes on hers as I walk up to her. My hands land on either side of her, and while a part of me thought she would shy away, she keeps her head high and holds my gaze.

“I want…”

I move in closer, toying with her the same way she just did with me. And when her breath hitches, I know I’ve succeeded.

“…you to go home.”

All the air leaves her lungs as I press a kiss to her forehead and force myself to back away.

I can tell she’s not surprised by my answer. Visibly disappointed, yes, but not surprised. She nods slowly and starts to round the table, but just when I think she’s going to leave, she grabs the pool cue off the table. As if I was just playing someone else entirely, she lines up and aims the ball like a fucking professional before taking her shot—sinking three balls at once.

Standing up, she puts the cue down, smiles sweetly, and winks at me. And as she walks out the door, all I can do is stare in both amazement and disbelief.

Well played, Rochester.

THERE’S NOTHING MORE BORING than a surf shop on a day where the lifeguards deem the water too unsafe to go in. Sure, you get the occasional thrill seeker who’s looking to break the rules, but for the most part—it’s a dead zone. The storm brewing out at sea makes for choppy waves and a dangerous current that threatens to pull you under and spit you out.

Honestly, it would be better if we just closed.

But the boss wants us to stay open. His belief is that all the people who come to the beach and learn they can’t swim will come in to shop instead. My belief is that he should spend a day like today here so he can see how wrong he really is.

I’m staring down at my phone, playing some stupid game Devin got me hooked on, when a text from Cam comes through.Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

Hey, fucker. You coming to the bonfire tomorrow?

My first instinct is to tell him no. Come up with an excuse or claim I’m not feeling well. Something so I don’t see Laiken again. Every time I’m around her, it gets more difficult to control myself. It’s pitiful and goes against everything I am, but that’s how it is.

For fuck’s sake, I even dreamed about fucking her on a pool table last night.

I should stay far away from her, but at the same time, I know I can’t do that forever. There’s going to be a time where I need to suck it up, control my dick, and spend time around her. I can’t avoid my friends forever.

And who knows, maybe seeing her in a group setting will be easier. Less…tempting. After all, it’s not like I’m going to pull her into my lap and hump her like a dog in heat with Cam sitting right there.

Not that I would do that even if he wasn’t there, but I’m learning lately that I have no say in the things I do when she’s around.

There are no guarantees, and everything is a risk where she’s involved.

But fuck it. If she had actually played pool yesterday instead of playing me, she would have won the bet and I’d be forced to go anyway. I may as well.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I type out a response and press send.

Yeah, I’ll be there. Let me know what beer you want me to grab after work.

His answer comes before I can even put my phone down.

The kind with the high alcohol percentage.

Jägermeister it is.

No! Literally anything but that.

And vodka. Should probably avoid that too. 🤢🤮

Yeah, he has a point.