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dissatisfaction. 
    Thad groaned and rolled his eyes.  “Those are my undergrad students, asshole.”
    Lance grinned at him.  “Yeah, I know.  You already told me that.”
    Thad glared back.  “They’re probably not even twenty-one.”
    “Dude, I know that.  I’m not going to fuck any of them.  I’m thirty-three years old, for Christ’s sake.  Give me some kinda credit, fucker…..Besides, the whole student thing doesn’t do it for me …..”     
    I swear that laser beams shot out from Thad’s eyes.  He was stone-faced as he grinded his teeth back and forth to where you could see the tension in his jaw.  It looked like he wanted to reply, but didn’t. 
    I didn’t have time to ponder Lance’s statement because Chris expertly changed the subject.  “So who wants to play some pool?”
    I jumped up, ready to get away from Thad and the situation.  Sam excused himself and said he had to head home before his wife made him do the laundry.  I thought about leaving, too, but I’d ridden with Grant and he didn’t want to go yet.  I didn’t protest too much, though.  Despite Thad’s presence and mood, I was actually having fun with the rest of them.   
    Thad tried to stay back at the table, but his friends convinced him that he was needed to keep the teams even since Grant didn’t want to play.

Chapter Six
    By the time it was our turn to play, we were all feeling pretty good.  Even Thad had loosened up some, though he still wouldn’t look at me.  I noticed that he’d exchanged some harsh words with Lance on the way to the pool tables, but they seemed to be okay now. 
    As we picked teams, Lance asked me, “So can you play?”
    I batted my eyes at him coyly and drawled, “I’m okay, I guess.”
    He laughed.  “Oh lord, are you a hustler?  Awesome.  Me, too!”
    The game began.  I was on Thad and Chris’ team.  Lance was on a team with Melissa and Paul.  Lance was already trying to avoid Melissa.  She was oblivious, of course – still flirting annoyingly.  Grant had gone to the other room where a band was playing.  He didn’t go over to hear the band, though.  That English guy was over there, of course.
    In between shots, the guys were telling funny stories about each other. 
    “And then Angry Thad kicked third base so hard, he broke his fuckin’ toe!”  Lance’s voice roared as he sipped from his beer. 
    Everyone laughed at the story about Thad’s temper, but I happened to glance at Chris, whose grin faltered noticeably when he met my gaze.  He turned his head to the side a bit, brief lines of concern falling across his face.  He then nodded at me and smiled sweetly.  What was that all about? 
    The beer kept coming and so did the stories.  Thad was giving Lance a hard time about his “harem” of women when Lance apparently had enough.  “Whatever, dude.  Like you have any room to talk.  Your door was always revolving until Dani came along.”
    I tried not to let the words bother me.  Who cares?  He was a big ol’ male whore in college?  Before Dani?  Who was she….and why did I already hate her?
    For the first time that night, Thad’s eyes finally met mine.  My breath hitched.  Did I remember how to breathe?
    His eyes were apologetic, like he didn’t want me to hear that.  Like he cared that I had heard it.
    I turned away first.  I had no claim on him.  He had no claim on me.  I shouldn’t care.  I can’t care.  I won’t care.  I grabbed my beer again and shrugged my shoulders, forcing a fake grin as I took a long drink.  Oh well.  Screw him and his revolving door. And Dani, whoever the hell she was.  Screw her, too.  (Hey, I guess he already did that!  Buh-Duh-Duh!)
    I cracked myself up.  A real smile spread across my face.  Fuck it.  Blitzville, here I come!  I have two levels when I drink:  Snoozeville or Blitzville.  If I just have two or three drinks and stop, I’m headed home to Snoozeville.  If I keep going, I’m