I lost track of everything around me. My world narrowed down to the felt, the cue ball, and the occasional fresh cool glass pressed into my hand. Which started happening more and more often as that one drink too many tilted my pool playing abilities into potential epic failure territory. My stomach protested the boozy onslaught.

"Spit or swallow?" Rohan murmured to me, near the end of the final game. We were neck and neck for balls sunk.

I sputtered the water I'd been ...