"You're just getting old," said Dom, but he didn't argue. It was past one, and even though they had time yet before the pub closed, Billy wasn't looking forward to another hour of pool. He didn't even care if they lost their table, because he was going to lose his fucking mind. There was only so much beer and so much winning a man could take, and he was sure he'd passed the threshold half an hour ago, at least.
Dom wouldn't admit it later, but they ended up letting the girls win just on principle.
"We're from America," one of them had said. She was wearing a dark red alligator-skin jacket, and she couldn't lean on her pool cue the way Dom could, but she was cute, if a little badly dressed. But she was American, so.
"Long way from home, eh?" Dom asked. He nodded at Billy. "Rack 'em up."
"Aye," said Billy, as the girl said, "not as far as you guys." She had a flat accent that Billy couldn't quite follow, but he didn't feel much like talking, anyway. His tongue felt gummy from the beer, and he was well past his charming stage.
"Yeah," Dom said. He was smiling at her. "But you know how it is. Work calls."
"You guys are working here?" That was the other girl.
"Yeah," said Billy. "D'you call pockets?" The girls looked blank. Billy looked at Dom, who looked back and shrugged. He looked about as tired as Billy felt.
"We call pockets," Dom said. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," said the first one, with the alligator-skin. "Okay, let's do that."
It turned out they didn't understand Billy's accent, which Billy thought was just as well, because he didn't understand theirs either. But they weren't bad, which made losing to them all the easier-- even if Dom kept knocking him with the butt-end of his cue, saying, "you could've made that one."
And Billy could have, because Billy could do a lot of things, but this was more about what Billy was going to do. And Billy wasn't going to win, because he didn't want to; just like he was thinking of going home with Dom tonight, because he did want to. It all followed very logically.
The difference was that Dom both did and didn't want, and when the girls finally pocketed the eight ball, he sounded genuinely disappointed when he said, "I guess we're done here."
The girl smiled. "And you'd been plaguing this table all night, too."
"Aye," said Billy, and straightened, leaving his cue leaned up against the side of the pool table. "I guess our luck's finally run out."
Dom said, "For now." And Billy thought he might let Dom have his way, just this once.