Hustle Me (Bank Shot Romance #1)(10)
Author: Jennifer Foor

It made sense. I mean, who wants to play when they know they don’t have a chance at winning?

I’d been shooting random shots for about a half hour when my mind went back to the girl that was running Joker’s bar. She was clueless. I almost felt sorry for her and I knew those douchebags would be back to threaten her some more. If she was really that oblivious to what those thugs were about, then she could really be in danger of losing everything.

Joker never once mentioned having a daughter, in fact he didn’t talk about his past very much at all. I wondered if he knew he had a grandson, if the kid belonged to the girl. It wasn’t like me to worry about anyone other than myself. I’d been on my own too long to be tied down to someone or anything. The fact that it was still on my mind was a new one for me.

Then there was the fact that she knew my real name. I had to know why she mentioned me.

After grabbing a quick bite to eat at a fast food joint, I headed back to the bar to watch Tippy’s match. He was funny when he shot, because he was this little scrawny guy that had to take some shots on his tippy toes. That was how he got the nickname, Tippy.

Most players had some kind of nickname they went by. When I started shooting pool, I didn’t want people knowing my real name. That was one of my rules. Keep my real life separate from what I did for a living.

Tippy was telling the truth when he said that he had improved. The guy he was shooting was pretty good. You could tell he didn’t have any training and was just a straight shooter. When I started shooting, I didn’t understand the difference. Straight shooters shoot pool for fun. They can make shots, but have no skill about running out a rack. Half of what they do is luck and not skill. A professional pool player learns the ins out of making shots, learning angles, ball control, and positioning. It’s strategic and takes concentration with every shot. You stand up too fast after your stroke and you miss. It’s as simple as that.

The guy he was shooting was one hell of a shot maker, but he was also pulling shit out of his ass. They were playing nine ball in a race to seven. Tippy was up three with two break and runs, which meant after the break he ran out all of his balls without giving the guy a shot.

The following rack he broke and scratched, meaning his cue ball went into the pocket creating a foul. The dude he was playing ran out that next rack.

As the set continued, I noticed some little Sugars coming into the bar. The two of them were probably my age or younger. We didn’t have to turn around to know they were there. They were drinking beers through straws and smelled like cotton candy. Tippy nodded at one of them, so I assumed he knew who they were. Since he lived locally, I wouldn’t have been surprised if one of them was his real girlfriend. There were some guys that had a problem with using women like I did. My feelings on the subject were if they were willing, then I was up for giving them a good time.

The guy playing Tippy missed a nine ball combination shot that would have tied up the match. He took his stick and banged it against another table. This was a common amateur move that most players did out of frustration. A real player wouldn’t do that when his stick was well over a grand to replace, or repair.

As the guy checked for any dents that he had inflicted on his stick, Tippy bent over and made the straight in nine ball shot. I wanted to laugh as the guy cussed under his breath.

Now, a common experienced pool player had no problem talking shit, also known as shaking. When money was on the table, it caused the match to become stressful. In situations like that, you take a random smartass who makes sly comments when you miss a shot or are bending down to take one. Tippy was famous for his, and I had all but thought he’d stopped until he sunk that shot.

As he taunted the guy, he continued to miss shots, making him become hostile. His threats were increasing as Tippy kept his game constant. After he’d won four, the set was over. The guy took the nine ball before Tippy could shoot it and threw it into the pocket. It was a common move when someone was giving their opponent the match, or game. Tippy had a big ole smile on his face as he went to shake the man’s hand and collect his money.

"Double or nothing, man?" The guy asked.

"I don’t know, it’s getting kind of late and I got shit to do." Tippy looked over at the Sugars when he said it. I saw them leaning into each other and giggling.

"Come on man, you gotta give me a chance to win my shit back. My wife’s going to kill me for this."

This was also common. These guys came in here thinking they could double their money easily playing a scrawny little guy for money. Unfortunately, they almost always lost because they weren’t as good as they thought they were.

"Sorry dude, I got two chicks waiting to have a good time. We will have to do this some other time." He went to slap him five, but the guy walked away and went into the bathroom. Tippy turned around to face me. "You learn something new tonight, son?” I hated when people from the city called each other ‘son’.

"I learned that you still have a lot more to learn, SON." I said sarcastically.

"Whatever, dude. You going to come party with us? Rachel and I have a nice ass pad and her friend can be a little freak after she’s had some drinks in her."

I put my arm around him as we approached the girls. "Yeah, sounds like a plan. As long as I don’t have to see your ass naked, it’s a fun time for me."

"Shit, you wish you were hung like me. Ladies love me, yo."

I rolled my eyes and followed them out of the bar. The way I lived made it easy to live day by day. I could party when I wanted to and go when I wanted to go. Why some of these guys wanted to be tied down to one person, I just didn’t know. It made no damn sense. Not when there was pu**y in every city, just waiting for attention.

We were driving down through the main part of town to get to where we were going and when we came up to where the tavern was located, I noticed two guys outside the door. All of the lights were off, and one guy had a crowbar in his hand. Now, I realized that the chances of me being in the right place at the right time was slim, so this had to be some kind of divine intervention from Joker, forcing me to do the right damn thing whether I wanted to or not. I cussed him under my breath before telling Tippy to stop the car for me to get out.

I waited for them to pull away before walking up to the bar to confront the thugs. They had all been drinking and I didn’t feel like owing someone for them getting arrested. The two guys had the crowbar in the door and were getting ready to pop it open. "Hey, dickheads, what do you think you’re doing?"

The crowbar dropped and they both stood up to my attention. "Yeah, so my buddy just called the cops and they are in route. You might want to high tail out of here before they arrive."