Sin De Rella

k

was harder than I thought. My chest tightened when the door shut behind me—it felt like walking down the mem

of crisps, making my stomach grumble. At the dim-lit corner, a couple started to snog on their tab

e real football for bloody sake! Our Europe

lyzing the angle of the ball on the fifth table. Across it, the two blokes slapp

than my six feet two inches height. The light hanging above the table made the tattoo of Mj

k. I inward

s hand and hit the cue ball, knocking the balls into each other. A

alls rolling in front of him, waiting patiently for his turn, but I was sure it was never g

of different types of alcohol lining behind the bar. A sign prohibiting the m

aying and thick beard approached with a fri

e.” I smiled back, fishin

he house,”

zzles. Seconds ticked by, I busted out laughing. “Jett?” What

ff his two bottom crooked teeth. “Tho

not recognize you, Jett. What’s the deal with the beard? How’s bus

stay here for how long, son?” He grabbed a long glass behind the bar counter a

e yeasty and bitter taste slid down, washing out the worry clogging in my thr

ow, son. Go

eously from where Brett was playing. A skin-head,

,” I co

have any idea who Brett i

competing when his grandma died almost f

his team. Other photos were The Minnesota Fats’ Rudolf Wand

t was Brett. “Nice

im. “You’ve got to be kidding me! You tricked him, Sharknado. You’r

the air in an exaggerated way. “Finally! Finally, he finds his way back to where he truly belongs! The United States of fucking America, where bur

in US soil, Brett Rogue.” We hugged with a back slap. He was my roommate in college and had been m

Are you in trouble? Are you now in the MI6 most wanted lists

wn a bottle of

s the last time I laugh like this? We talked over the phone, exchanged emails, but not like this.

but we were busy enjoying the London night. Scratched tha

r. Bean?” His brow waggled pl

engaged, Ethan

Bond!” He slammed his hands on my thig

at?” I grimaced. “Of course,

plonker.” He sipped his b

could have just fallen in love in a

r stupid broken heart. And the last time I talked to you over the phone, which was just last week, by the way, you seemed far from being in love, s

ghed—a deep thunderous laugh like we used to do. I hadn’t gotten a chanc

ed the old wound open. I couldn’t blame her for choosing her career over me because that time I was also busy work

hurt,

n I was upset or worried about something. I p

York after seven bloody years,” Brett imitated my thick accent, which

ny-arse over snooker,” I challenged h

ing carelessly. “Carry on, Harry P

I shrugged, extending my

ve you know al

op talking about shits since he

for your

if I’m go

ou ser

ood

ered, sounding unsure. Hi

to seal the deal. My heart started to hammer in my chest. What the fuck h

King

someone, but can I have your wo

th

*

t! Don’t forget to che