Tame the Beast

Chapter 13

Three weeks. Three long weeks since the Dean's Annual Holiday Party and Adam hadn't seen Clara since. Despite his persistence, Clara rejected his suggestions that she skip spending the holidays with her family and stay at Beaumont instead.

Anxiously, Adam fiddled with his pool stick and waited for Luke, who took his sweet time lining up his next shot. The longer Luke took, the further Adam's mind drifted to Clara in that red dress. He wouldn't mind bending her over the pool table and ...

"If you take any longer Adam is going to fall asleep standing there," Deacon said over the brim of his book.

"Hey, I like taking my time," Luke said. With one sharp hit, Luke sunk his ball and lined up for another. "And it doesn't look like he's about to fall asleep. It looks like he's daydreaming."

"You might be right," Deacon said with a smile.

"Of course, I am." A quiet damn was uttered under Luke's breath as his last ball hooked away from the pocket. "Twenty bucks says he's thinking about a certain brunette."

Adam snapped to attention and sent both his friends seething glares.

Deacon shook his head. "I don't take losing bets."

"I'll take that bet," Adam said with a little too much hostility. Aiming for a more nonchalant tone, he circled the table to take his shot, and added, "And I'll raise you thirty if I bank the eight ball off that cushion, side pocket."

Luke's broad smile grew as Adam leaned over to line up the cue ball. "Let's see what you got." Just as Adam prepared for his shot, Luke smugly added, "Did you see the way Clara's ass moved in that red dress she wore—"

Crack.

Adam's pool stick slammed to the table as the cue ball flew into a side pocket. Scratched. Curse words echoed off the walls as Adam stormed towards his friend.

Luke's words came rushing out as he threw his hands up in surrender. "Bro, calm down. I wanted to mess up your shot, not piss you off."

"Yeah real funny," Adam murmured before moving toward the mini bar. He shouldn't have reacted like that. The thought didn't sit well with him. He needed a drink, preferably something with whiskey.

"What the hell's been up with you lately?" Luke asked as he re-racked the table.

"Nothing."

"Bull. I think Clara's getting to you."

"I don't let women get to me."

Deacon eyed him from the edge of his book. "Not even Vivian?"

"No," Adam said, a warning in his tone. "Not even her."

The brothers exchanged looks of doubt but knew better than to push that particular topic.

"Deny all you want," Luke began, "but you've been an ass the last few months. After the Christmas party, I figured you'd lighten up a bit."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

At Adam's stubbornness, Deacon said, "Extra drinking, getting pissed every time someone mentions Clara ..."

"Face it, man," Luke piped in, "You're either in love or need to get laid."

"Probably both," Deacon added.

Laughter echoed between the brothers. Adam glared in response and nursed his drink. He couldn't argue Luke's last point. He hadn't slept with anyone in the past three months, and it wasn't for lack of trying. Clara somehow waltzed into his life and made every other woman pale by comparison. He needed a few sleepless nights with her to get her out of his system, plain and simple.