Page 65 of Hexbound

Verity took the stick. She didn't have any other option as it was thrust toward her, but she couldn't quite decipher what she saw on his face. He didn't seem happy, and yet he didn't seem to want her to go.

"Do you know how to play?" he asked, and a faint red tint stained his cheeks as he looked down at the cue.

"It's not as though Murphy kept a billiards room," she pointed out, but that wasn't a no. A plan had formed; a means of finding out whether he wanted to kiss her or whether he didn't.

"Do you want me to teach you?"

Verity smiled shyly. "That would be lovely."

"Have a try," he said, offering her the cue.

Verity took it, then leaned over the table, eyeing the green baize and the scattering of balls. It felt nice to be doing something other than talking of the thrice-cursed Chalice for once, though she knew he was restless.

"Is this right?" she asked, and tried to nestle the cue in her hands.

Bishop stared at her, trying to gauge her sincerity, but he grudgingly stepped up behind her, resettling the cue in her hands as his body surrounded hers. His warmth was tangible, his thighs brushing against her bottom. "You hold it like this."

Verity bit her lip, glancing over her shoulder at him. His dark, slightly-too-long hair tumbled forward, obscuring part of his face as he eyed the table.

"Aim for the green ball," he said.

It nestled close enough to the far pocket to make it a moderately easy shot.

"If I sink this ball"—she peered down the line of the cue—"what will you give me?"

"Give you?"

"Well, there has to be some sort of challenge to make it interesting."

"Do you gamble frequently?"

"Sometimes. I like the thrill of it." She smiled. "Don't ever sit down to cards with me, however, or you'll end up handing over the deed to everything you own."

Bishop leaned against the table, watching her set herself up. "One could say you're already halfway there," he murmured, just loudly enough for her to hear it.

Her heart leapt. Verity hit the white ball, and it careened wildly across the table, a miscue. "Damn it." She stared at him. "You did that on purpose."

"Did what?" This was an entirely different side to him tonight. Almost playful. She wasn't certain whether he was teasing her or not.

Bishop folded his arms across his chest, frowning at the table. "I suspected you were gaming me, and were about to sink that."

"Who? Me?" She sauntered around the table, determination lighting through her. If he wanted to play games, then she was quite happy to take him up on that. And she wasn't going to lose.

He snorted. "Yes, you. Little Miss Innocent over there."

"Play a game with me?" Chalking the tip of the cue, she practically dared him with her eyes to say yes.

Bishop rubbed at his face, then sighed. "It's not as though I'm going to get any sleep tonight anyway, is it?"

"If I win, will you tell me why?"

"If you win, I'll tell you anything you want."

That intrigued her. There were so many mysteries about him that she wanted to solve. "Done."

Bishop set up the table, then glanced at her. "Do you wish to break?"

"No. You do it. You're so much stronger than I."