Page 21 of His Last Shot

A Promising Touch

Johnny

T hree hours later, we lie under a blanket, beneath the stars, silent. I didn’t invite her to come tonight, but somehow, she knew I would be here, waiting for her.

When she arrived, she said nothing. Only slid under the blanket and watched the sky.

Earlier at Dexter’s, once play started and for the next hour and a half, Drew Who? did nothing but rack the balls for me and my team, his anger blazing with every loss. Dexter observed the whole match and never looked disappointed, which tells me he knows better than to bet against me.

Turning my head to study her profile, I silently hope Rachel will bet on us.

And her deciding to come here tonight … well … it’s a start.

A shooting star zooms across the sky above, capturing my attention as her finger lightly grazes mine under the blanket.

My heart stops.

For the next hour, we lie side-by-side, our hands brushing occasionally as we gaze at the glittering stars, the night air a silent witness to our unspoken connection.

And a surprise touch that feels more promising than any that came before.