She did it again. She beat him at his own game. He would never get used to a woman playing him like she did- that was his job. At least it had been with every other woman that crossed his path. This one, though… He couldn't tell if she was that smart or if she just threw him that much. Either way, she had him. "Carrying a torch…" Who the hell even says that anymore? She does, and damned if she didn't get him to say it too. Unrequited, no less. She had to be messing with him though. She felt something for him, he was sure. He just didn't know exactly what. The thought that it wasn't what he felt for her scared him to death.
But look at her now, that goofball, running around the bar with her hands over her ears "You love me! You love me! You love me!" His heart raced—did she know? Was it that obvious? He chased her into the back room, his denials an amusing exercise in futility. It was true and everyone knew it. Sammy's chasing her, but he's the one on the run.
He cornered her against the pool table, and she laughed breathlessly, then smiled that damned cat-that-ate-the-canary smile she got when she knew she had something on him. Her dancing blue eyes looked up at him flirtatiously from under her lowered eyelids, and she reached behind her back to play with the billiard balls. "Oh come on, Sam…" she began.
He leaned toward her menacingly, not sure if he wanted to frighten her or kiss her. Probably a little of both… more the latter. He just wanted to take back some feeling of control. He was close enough to smell her now… a mixture of Dove soap, the faintest hint of orange blossom and whatever it was that made her hair smell so good. It drove him crazy whenever she breezed by him behind the bar. So close…
He instinctively leaned in further. Her face changed ever so slightly and the smile faded, her eyes widening just a little in anticipation of what was to come. His blue-grey eyes scanned her face and came to rest on her pink-stained mouth… those full lips he burned to consume. Her breathing was shallow and he could practically hear her heart beating in her chest as she dropped a ball and gripped the edge of the table. Her face grew flushed and her eyes searched his. Is she afraid? She knows I'd never hurt her, right?
Suddenly regaining his composure, he backed off and she looked disappointed. "What?" he asked irritably, averting his eyes. "What?" she replied, casting her eyes downward. Both knew exactly what, but neither was going to say. "Nothing…" both demurred. They were suddenly aware of the ruckus in the front room: "Are you crazy? She is not!" "Is too!" "No, he is!" They looked at each other, puzzled. "We should…" Sam began. "… see what they're all shouting about out there," she finished.
The moment they re-entered the bar, the arguing came to an abrupt halt and all eyes were on them. "What?" the pair cried simultaneously, both flustered and frustrated beyond measure. "Nothing!" replied the peanut gallery in perfect unison. And in unison, they returned to their glasses, grinning knowing grins. Sam looked around the room, confused and aggravated, and Diane closed her eyes, unsated and thoroughly embarrassed. They knew.