Chapter 41

At a hole in the wall bar in a part of LA I'd never spent much time in, I took another gulp of whiskey and relished the smooth burn of it on its way down. Richard was with me, chatting to the bartender with a jovial air about him, his hands animated as he shared some story I doubted the poor guy gave a shit about.

I knew I didn't give a shit about it. I'd had the worst two weeks trying to get in touch with Serenity and being ignored at every turn, so I just wasn't in the mood for this. I didn't even ask Richard what he was up to when we sat down near the pool tables and he looked like he was casing the place.

"This place is great, isn't it?" he said conversationally even as his gaze darted from side to side. "I love it here."

I leaned back in my chair, taking another look around the darkened, dingy bar. There was absolutely nothing special about it—except perhaps for how much bacteria was growing in the threadbare carpets and between the cracks in the walls.

"Sure," I said flatly. "It's great. What are we doing here?"

"You needed a fun distraction." Before I even had a chance to respond, he got up again and threw our names in the ring to challenge another two guys who were racking up the pool table.

He beckoned me over. I sighed, my head shaking. He widened his eyes at me, insisting that I join him. Bringing my tumbler back to my lips, I chugged the rest of the whiskey before I finally got up and sauntered over to him.

"I'm as good at pool as I am at golf," I muttered in warning as I took the pool cue he handed over. "I hope you're okay with losing."

Richard laughed, patting me on the back as he winked at me. "It's just for fun."

Turning away from me, he held his cue casually in one hand as he checked out the tatted-up guys he'd just challenged. "I bet you one hundred dollars that I'll win."

One of the guys snorted and exchanged a glance with his friend. Both of them looked pretty darn confident as the other guy came over to shake Richard's hand. "You're on, old man. It's just for fun, right?"

"Right," Richard agreed, back to being jovial. He grinned at the guy while he smacked his palm into his outstretched hand. "We're going to have tons of fun, boys."

I rolled my eyes but didn't say anything to contradict him. If he thought losing a hundred bucks was fun, then he and I had very different definitions of the word. Losing wasn't fun to me. Not ever. Not even when we were playing for such a nominal amount.

Losing the girl, however, that's even less fun.I grunted as the thought flew into my head. Then I motioned for the bartender to bring me another whiskey. When he arrived, I muttered, "Keep ‘em coming."

He nodded and I turned back to my future stepfather and the tatted-up guys who were about to mop the floor with him—with us. I would've felt bad for him, but I figured he'd literally asked for it. Snickering as he stepped aside, the first guy waved at the table.

"You break," he said to Richard.

He smiled sweetly at them. "Thank you, gentlemen. How very gracious of you."

The guys exchanged another look, but Richard ignored them, humming under his breath. He got the game started with a weak break, barely scattering the balls. As the game continued, I was sure that we were playing the most terrible game of pool that had ever been played.

The guys thrashed us. To my surprise, Richard grinned happily at them after they'd won. "Oh, dear. I need an opportunity to redeem myself. How about we play for two hundred this time?"

Snickering some more, they agreed, smug smirks on their faces. Their team broke this time. The game was just as awful though, with Richard missing more shots than before and seemingly getting more flustered.

I groaned, wishing I could have the glass surgically attached to my hand at this point. Thankfully, the bartender made sure to top me off every so often. We lost again, but Richard swiped a hand over his face and then grinned some more.

"This really isn't going well for us. Three hundred on the next game?"

My eyes nearly bulged out of my head. What the fuck is he doing? Does he have a gambling problem?

The thought made my heart stutter in my chest, and when he went back for game number four, betting an extra hundred dollars on it, my jaw clenched. He's definitely got a problem.

The stakes were high now, but I was willing to take the hit. It still wasn't that much money and simply handing it to them was what we'd been doing all day anyway. I was about to tell Richard it was time for us to leave when the strangest thing happened. No longer bumbling his way around the table, his entire demeanor changed and he pulled off some masterful moves, surprising the shit out of me and out of our opponents.

Watching them closely, I suspected they realized at about the same time I did that he'd been hustling them. My mother's soon-to-be husband suddenly turned into one heck of a player, clearing the table in no time at all and leaving the rest of us gaping at him.

When the game was done, the guys scowled but handed over the cash, and I grabbed Richard's arm, paying the bartender as we rushed out. Both of us were laughing like idiots as we got into the car and I peeled out of the parking lot like we'd just robbed the joint.

"What was that?" I asked as exhilaration flowed through me. "You were a maniac back there. Where'd you learn to play pool like that?"

He chuckled, leaning back with a satisfied smile on his face. "My first serious girlfriend played competitively."

"Did you play competitively too?" I asked, thinking back at some of the moves he'd pulled and realizing that it sure seemed possible that he might've.

He chuckled. "No, I did not, but we met in college and dated for five years. Her brothers and her father were always trying to beat her, so we spent a good chunk of our time between classes in pool halls. Eventually, I got roped into the sport. It's been a while, though."

"It doesn't look like it's been that long," I replied. "You don't seem to have lost the skill, that's for sure."

He shrugged, his gaze suddenly far away as he stared out ahead of him. "She was my first true love and she took pool so seriously that it became part of me too. It really has been a while, but it's in my blood now. It has been for a long time."

Listening to him, I realized there was so much I still didn't know about Richard. "What happened between you? Did you marry her?"

"No, unfortunately not," he said, glancing at me before he shrugged again. "I would have, but life took us in different directions. A couple years after we graduated, she got offered a job in Manhattan. It was a hell of an opportunity and I encouraged her to take it."

"You couldn't go with her?"

He shook his head. "Not at the time. When she went, we thought it'd only be a few months and then I'd be able to join her, but it never happened."

"Why not?"

"Life," he said. "Work. Money. You name it, and I used it as an excuse at the time."

Something about what he'd said struck a chord with me and I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I should have told her how I really felt. I never did, but I've always wondered what might have happened if I had. If I hadn't just let her go."

"But you said it was a great opportunity. You had to let her go."

"To Manhattan, yes, but that's not what I was talking about. She had to take the job. I'd never have been able to live with myself if I'd kept her from going, but I didn't have to let her go completely. I certainly didn't have to use all those excuses to stay behind. I never even told her that she was my first true love. Time and distance came between us and I figured the ship had sailed."

I winced. "That sucks. I'm sorry. Do you still wonder what might've happened?"

"Not anymore," he said softly before he turned to look at me again. Since I was driving after having had all that whiskey, I couldn't risk a glance at him, but I felt him staring at me. "I only stopped wondering after I met your mother. Before that though, sure, I was still wondering at least once a day how my life might've been."

My eyebrows climbed higher on my forehead. "But you were with her in college. That's a long time to wonder. You never looked her up?"

"No, but I heard she got married a few years after we broke up. I was tempted to try to find her a few times, but ultimately, I missed my shot and I lived most of my life with regrets because of it. Trust me, son, you don't want to live with regrets. Life doesn't always give you a second chance at something."

I paused, hesitating because I wasn't sure what to say. I could still feel Richard staring at me, though. He sighed. "If you love someone, really love them, you owe it to yourself to tell them how you feel. You owe it to them, too."

"But if you can't give them what they need?" he went on when I still hadn't said anything. "If you can't give them what they deserve or if you won't? You owe it to them to let them go. No excuses. No regrets. Last I heard, Patricia had a wonderful life. She has kids. Grandkids. Her husband gave her what I couldn't and I'm thankful for that."

My heart hammered against my ribs, my face heating as I put two and two together. He was warning me about regrets because he knew something was up with Serenity, and the more I processed what he'd said, the more I wondered what I would be telling some thirty-something when I was his age.

Would I be talking about the risks I took or the regrets I had? Would I still be wondering what might've been with Serenity or would I finally have met someone else?

Swallowing hard, I was relieved when Richard's house came into view. There might be a lot I didn't know about this man, but I had a feeling there was also a lot I could learn from him. I just desperately needed some time to process what I already had learned from him.

I didn't want to live with regrets. As we drove onto his property, I knew that much for an absolute fact. I didn't want to live with regrets, but I already was, and I had no idea if it was too late for me to do something about it.