Griffin shot first while Kellan stood beside me, a stick upright in his hands. He grinned at me when Griffin didn’t make anything on the break. Then he leaned over the pool table and, watching me with a cocky half-smile on his lips, he made his shot. I laughed softly when his ball completely missed every other ball. He looked back at the table and frowned, then looked back up at me and laughed, shrugging his shoulders as he straightened back up. His woman put a hand over his stomach consolingly, but he didn’t look over at her.
