Free A Kind of Romance by Lane Hayes

’cause you’ll need all the help you can get.” Something I might have said to Abe or Carter. But I kept quiet and instead focused on his form. My gaze dipped from his tapered, slim waist to his ass. For a small guy, he was perfectly proportioned. And that ass was fine. I blinked in an effort to not ogle. I glanced up when he moved. His left arm flew to his side as he pulled his right arm back. He crouched low, almost like he was bowing with his right knee bent at an exaggerated angle, and then unleashed the ball. The red ball went flying straight down the center of the alley and bam ! Strike.
    He sashayed back toward the console and slapped my offered hand a high five.
    “Impressive,” I grudgingly sighed before standing to take my turn.
    “Thanks.”
    “I’m still warming up, though,” I said smugly before adding, “And I’m still gonna show you who’s boss.”
    Benny smiled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Naturally. Your turn.”
    I hit nine pins on my next turn, then eight and seven after that. I was getting worse while Benny… well, he was kicking my ass. He hit strikes or spares with an ease that proved he’d been telling the truth from the start. He was an expert bowler, and I was the loud-mouthed schmuck who’d challenged the wrong man to a contest I had no hope of winning. By my final turn, I’d been sufficiently put in my place. It was time to apologize for doubting his prowess and admit I’d been wrong. But grace in defeat wasn’t my strong suit, so instead of congratulating him, I opened my big mouth and said something else entirely.
    “I’m warmed up now. Bet you can’t do that again, Ruffalo. Let’s play another round.”
    “You’re a glutton for punishment. And the name is Ruggieri, not Ruffalo, asshole. I’ll play again, but let’s make it interesting. Let’s make a bet. The winner….”
    Benny was still talking, but I was distracted by a familiar figure three lanes away. I squinted, unsure if I was seeing correctly in the dim lighting. No way. It couldn’t be.
    Clay Brenner. Also known as the guy Taylor had been screwing around with for months before he finally came clean and broke up with me. I wasn’t kidding when I said I hated to lose, but the most galling part of the entire episode with Taylor was that Clay was a coworker. He’d been with the Baxter McGuiness Group for less than a year, and in that short time he had managed to fuck me over. Royally. It was impressive in a way. I’d never said more than a word or two to the guy in passing. A grunted greeting in the hallway or in the office kitchen was the extent of our interaction. He must have had a good laugh. He’d wave an absent greeting in my direction mere hours after pulling his dick out of my lover’s ass. Fucker.
    I couldn’t believe it when Taylor said he had serious “feelings” for the guy. Clay was so… ordinary. Five foot ten, mousy-brown hair, a slight potbelly, and a questionable sense of style. In other words, he looked like a boring thirtysomething whose biggest aspiration was to buy a nice family home in the suburbs and raise a few kids someday. What he didn’t look like was competition. I’d been blown away when I realized I’d read him so incorrectly. Now it seemed I’d been right after all. Or partially so. Evidently Clay was bi, but the two kids hopping around his feet and the pregnant woman sitting on the bench behind him told a bigger story. That fuckhead was a married man.
    I was shocked. I couldn’t remember if he’d worn a ring because I had zero interest in him until I’d found out about him and Taylor. And in the past two months since Taylor and I had broken up, I hadn’t bumped into Clay once. His office had been moved to another floor, which frankly was for the best. I was afraid of what I might do if I ran into him. My temper was notoriously volatile. I wanted to destroy him, but I was a staunch advocate of the sentiment that revenge was a dish best served cold. It