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Seventeen Days of Gold Chapter 6 - Continued We walked around the village for a little while before finally deciding to head to the Port O'Call for lunch. They served typical sports bar food, but I had a hankering for a barbeque pork sandwich anyhow. More popular as a night spot, the bar provided a relatively quiet place to hang out at this time of day. Apolo ordered a hamburger and made a face about my drink selection. "Who puts lemon in Coke?" He asked. "It's something I picked up in Europe." I said, stirring the lemon down into my glass. "Don't knock it til you've tried it. They've already got lemon Pepsi out, although it tastes like crap." "I'll pass on both." He said, sipping his plain Coke. "But tell me, where have you been to in Europe?" I told him about my travels abroad, both during the service and after. About my stationing in the Philippines and Germany, and my dream to someday go back to Germany and buy a summer home in the little town of Lindau at the Swiss border. It was nice to have someone new to tell my stories to, and Apolo seemed to be enjoying it. Finally, the waitress interrupted my tales of adventure. We ate our meal in relative silence, commenting occasionally on the slalom competition we watched on the television above the bar. After eating, our conversation picked up as we talked about the Olympics, and Apolo spoke at length about the number of hours each day he practiced to get here and how just being in the Olympics is a dream come true, and all the great people he's met. I smiled as I listened. It was refreshing to know he didn't take this all for granted. I found myself taking back the impressions I had upon first meeting him. Having this relaxed conversation made me realize that he was genuine...and unfortunately for me, that made him even more irresistible. "So..." He said, changing the subject. "If I pay for lunch here, am I still in the doghouse?" "What do you think this is, a date?" I replied. "We're splitting the check, so you'll have to settle this some other way." "Okay, then..." He was thoughtful for a moment. "do you play pool?" He asked, glancing over my shoulder at the billiard tables at the back of the pub. "Yeah, I've played." I shrugged nonchalantly. I wasn't about to tell him I was a regular shark when I was in the airforce. He smiled, as if thinking he had me beat already. "Well, that sounds like a fair competition to me then. Come on." He got up and headed back. I followed, chuckling to myself. This was going to be too easy. I rented a set of balls from the bartender and Apolo racked up for me to break the first game. As soon as I made my first shot, sinking the eleven on the break, I think he realized he was in trouble. I got the two in on the next shot, but missed the following. "Your turn, my dear." I smiled, gesturing at the table. "Cheater." He said, making a face at me. I kept smiling. He leaned over to take his shot. I studied his form...actually, I studied his ass. Oh yeah, this was going to be an interesting afternoon. I won the first match, and he the second, as I sank the eight ball too early in the game. While he racked up for me, I strolled over to the jukebox and selected a few songs to liven up the mood. I remember one of the things I love about shooting pool was how flirtatious it can be without being obvious. With every shot he took, I took the opportunity to look him over. And I could feel him doing the same to me every time I leaned over the table. I strutted along to the music, almost as if I was messing with him they way he did with me on the dance floor the other night. It was nice to be admired, even though I was misbehaving. And even misbehaving felt good. We exchanged cocky grins after good shots and helpful tips for difficult ones. He even took a hands-on opportunity on a shot I was having trouble lining up, standing close behind me and using his hands to show me the best way to hold the cue. I only half-listened to the instruction, more distracted by his closeness--his hips pressed against my rear, his arms around me and his voice so softly by my ear. I have no idea how I managed to even sink the ball. He still held me when we stood up, then he released me, slowly, his hands lingering at my waist. I bit my lip, staring straight ahead, wordlessly. He brushed his lips softly below my earlobe, sending tingles through my whole body. "Nice shot." He whispered, and stepped back from me. I completely missed the cue ball on the next play. "Don't do that again!" I whirled around and pointed a finger at him accusingly, in mock anger. "You're messing up my game." Apolo feigned innocence briefly, then grabbed my outstretched arm, pulling me closer to him. "Is that all I'm messing with?" He watched me intently as he kissed the inside of my wrist and then placed my hand behind his neck. I swallowed hard. Such a simple gesture was so incredibly sexy. I think it was about time to cool it. "Apolo, don't start this again." I said quietly. "Why? Will you actually shoot me this time?" He asked. I laughed lightly. "No." I became serious. "But our relationship is nothing more than business." "But aren't you still supposed to be pretending you're my girlfriend?" He inquired and I nodded in reply. "Well, you know those two that came in wearing the green and white jackets?" "Yeah, what about them?" "They're from NBC and if we're going to pull this girlfriend thing off, we need to be seen together...especially at choice moments like this." That sounded familiar. "Fine then. But just pretend?" I subtly played with the hair at the nape of his neck. Knock it off, I told myself. "Sure." He wrapped one arm around my waist. "No reading into it?" I placed my other hand behind his neck. Hello, this is your conscience talking. "Of course not." He slid his other hand into the back pocket of my jeans. I wasn't expecting that and I was enjoying this a lot more than I should. I think he was too and that's what made all this pretend shit even more difficult. "What happened to that necklace you always wear?" He asked, lifting one hand to lightly trace his fingers over my neck, circling the hollow in my neck. "It broke this morning." I said, taking in my breath at his touch. "We'll have to get you a new one." He continued to play his fingers over my throat, my jaw, my chin. I wanted to tell him to stop, but I couldn't. I was dying inside. We seemed dangerously close to crossing that thin line between fantasy and reality.  Christ, what is wrong with me? I don't know how he manages to do this to me, but I've got to shake this. It was about time we wrapped up this afternoon before we got carried away with our 'pretending'. "Since our privacy is being invaded here, what say we finish up this game and go?" I said, and pulled myself away from him, somewhat reluctantly. "Well this is the tiebreaker game then." He responded. "We're at three and three." "You're still stuck on that whole settling the score thing, aren't you?" I asked, rubbing chalk on the tip of my cue. "Yes, and if I win, you will let me make up for all the trouble this morning by taking you out to dinner tomorrow." "Uh, hello? Didn't we just establish the whole business relationship thing?" I reminded. "That sounds too much like a date to me." "Fine, then I'll 'meet you for dinner' and we can talk business." "Whatever." I rolled my eyes. He just wouldn't give up. "What happens if I win?" "Then I'm at your mercy." He bowed. "That could be interesting." I gave him an evil grin, to which he raised his eyebrows. "All right then. Take your best shot." We both concentrated hard on our game, trying desperately to make every shot or at least set the other up badly. We matched each other ball for ball until none were left but the lonely black and white. Certain to be triumphant, I lined up slowly, calculating the angle and distance, only to wind up scratching on the eight ball. I hung my head in defeat, but Apolo lifted my chin until I met his smiling face. "Don't look so disappointed. Is the prospect of spending an evening with me so terrible?" He asked. "That remains to be seen." I replied. "I give up." He sighed, exasperated. "I win fair and square, and you're still giving me the cold shoulder." "I could have beaten you." I said, sticking my tongue out at him before turning away to pack up the table. Yeah, I could have beaten him...I smiled to myself...but only if I didn't let him win. Scene music: "Tall Cool One" by Robert Plant "Straight On" by Heart Copyright material TMS2002 Chapter 7 Return to Home Back to Chapter 6, pt. 1   page created with Webpage Designer (NS)