Chapter Seven - You're Not Meant To Punch In Pool

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I am mine

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I am mine. Before I am ever anyone else's.                                                              - in

Chapter Song - From Eden by Hozier

"Guys, I suck at pool." Kaylee whines from the back seat, leaning forward in a huff, elbows on the console. 

"You'll do fine." Adele assures. "It's only a bit of fun, no competition." 

"Have you met the guys? They're competitive to a T." Kaylee replies.

I smile to myself, shaking my head at their old couple bickering. "We'll help you, Kaylee." Adele says to her. "Plus, if you really want, you can just watch." 

"That is way worse. I'll be like a simmering buzzkill hovering around like a bee." She mutters, slumping back into her seat. 

"Or you can tamper the game and make sure one of us wins." I face her with a smirk, earning one from her in response. 

Ziggy's pub is the local place in town, and on a Saturday night like this, fairly crowded. But not sardine tin crowded, more so the busy bustle of light chatter and laughter billowing from different corners. 

The pub has a western theme to it, cliche in all it's rustic wooden decor. With the bar built of a dark wood, with a polished counter top that may just be sticky, the stools underneath look a little rickety. 

Further down in the corner sit three pool tables, with the surrounding space filled in by booths and standing tables all taken. As I follow the girls inside, dressed in a knee length black sheer material skirt, decorated with tiny flowers, it's paired with a black tank top and my black Mary Janes. 

"You sure this is a pub and not a bulk store of cowboys?" I comment on the efficient number of dirty farm guys who definitely don't clean their nail beds. 

Adele snickers. "I think you forget this is a small country town, every guy here is a farm boy. Cowboy if you're lucky." She winks. 

"Lucky?" I question. 

"Ah, you like a more polished private school boy?" Kaylee questions with a wry grin. 

I cringe. "A guy who's hot and not a shit bag will do the trick."

Hunter, Ford, and Maverick are already at the pool table when we make it through the crowd. The three already in the middle of their own pool game, half drunk glasses of beer sat on the standing table behind them. 

"You're late." Hunter greets, humour glinting in his eye. 

"You can't rush beauty and perfection." Kaylee flips her blonde hair back. 

"Lets get this game goin', why don't we?" Maverick says, standing from leaning over the pool table, dressed in a grey t-shirt and roughed Wrangler jeans. I snap my gaze away from staring, because we're ignoring whatever thing these butterflies in my stomach have for him. 

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