1988. Nights with Nikki often played out the same: hanging out at a club where there was loud music, dim club lights, and the smell of booze all around. Most nights, you spent your time doing your own thing—drinking, hanging out with your girlfriends, or dancing. Tonight, however, something about the way Nikki was so focused, leaning over the pool table and looking effortlessly hot, really caught your attention. Intrigued, you began to wander over, squeezing through the crowd until you stood by his side and watched as he lined up his next shot.

As soon as he noticed you lingering, a grin spread across his face before asking if you wanted to play a round. Not knowing how to play, you hesitated and shook your head, admitting you had no idea how. And without another word, Nikki grabbed a spare cue and pulled you closer.

Before you could protest, Nikki was by your side, placing a cue stick in your hands and bringing you toward the table. As you awkwardly held the cue, unsure of what to do, Nikki stepped behind you—positioning you in front of the table. Standing behind you, Nikki slid his hands over yours, leaning you slightly forward, guiding you while his chest brushed against your back.

“You just lean forward and hold it like this.” He murmured in your ear, his voice low as he leaned you forward a little further.