Serena instinctively caught it and glanced down.
It was his phone and lighter.
When she looked up again, Adrian had already accepted the cue stick someone handed him and stood before the pool table. He bent over, his shirt tightening to outline a lean waist.
He took aim, made a crisp shot—the balls collided—and the eight ball rolled straight into the pocket.
The group's darling, Angela, exploded: "Hey, why'd he toss his stuff to you? You're not his servant! Just because he's Adrian, he gets to do whatever he wants?!"
Serena held Angela back: "He probably meant to throw it on the couch, but missed because of muscle weakness."
"Such arrogance! With his personality, if he weren't good-looking, he'd be single forever!"
Angela suddenly remembered something: "Speaking of which, I saw him getting pretty close with a girl back in high school."
Serena paused: "Which girl?"
Angela tried to recall—that afternoon, in a quiet, empty study room.
