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“Why did she have to request it?” Grant chuckles at him, but then stops smiling like he’s realising something, leaning away from him slightly. “Dude, you would have done it anyway, right?”

Adam just shrugs, taking a swig of beer while we all stare at him in disgust.

“We take it,” I say to move us along. “You win, you get the TV, we win, I get rid of the mattress.”

“Woah, woah, it’s my TV. Don’t I get a say!” Grant bursts out, putting his hands on my shoulders.

“Nope, sorry locked in,” Cami calls over the table before lining up to break at the other end with the confidence of a professional pool player, even I'm intimidated by the move.

“Brooke,” Grant whines, dropping his head to my shoulder from behind me. My body becomes hyper-aware of our closeness, and I bite my lip, trying to stay calm. How tall is he? He could rest his chin on my head while still standing straight. “I like my TV.”

“I’m sorry, I panicked, and I want to get rid of that mattress.” I pat his neck apologetically as his head is still resting in the crook of my shoulder. “And I’ve played loads with Cami before, I know we can beat them.”

I hear Cami scoff, rolling her eyes and planting a confident hand on her hip while hearing Gunnar nervously whisper. “She’s just trying to throw us off, right? They won’t win?”

“Shush, we are not going to lose,” Cami sighs. “Don’t be such a big baby.”

“Sometimes you’re mean when we play,” Gunnar pouts, leaning away from her on his cue.

“You two going to put your balls where your mouths are, or chit-chat all day?” I call over the table.

“If that’s your trash talk, I’m seriously worried about what you cheer at games,” Grant coughs out as he chokes on his beer and beats his chest.

“Shh, and line up the shot,” I push his shoulder toward the table.

He lines up, and he gets two balls in.

“Nice.” Cami smiles. “Remember that when you’re watching a wall at night?”

“God, she scares me,” he says as he comes back to stand next to me after failing to pot his next ball while Cami looks for the best one to aim for.

“I know.” I shiver. “Never ask her to help train or teach you anything. That’s when she’s at her scariest.”

“What are you two girls talking about?” Cami shouts.

“Nothing,” I say while Grant defends himself “Hey, only one of us is a girl.”

We play a long game, and it is getting close with both pairs only having one ball left on the table each before the black. Cami and Gunnar are taking their time to figure out their next shot.

“I’ve been thinking,” Grant whispers from next to me at the other end of the table. “Say we lose?”

“Hmm?” I hum while still looking at Cami and Gunnar, trying to psych them out with scary eyes, which I’m blaming on Adam and Bear giving us tequila shots and strong drinks while we play.

I’ve got Gunnar spooked, but Cami keeps snapping her fingers in his face to get him back into the game.

“Well, I’ll be TV-less in my room,” he whispers closer now, next to my ear, and I shiver, biting my lip.

“Yup.” I nod, trying to stay calm and composed, but to be honest, tipsy Brooke is.

“But you’ll have a very comfy bed and a TV,” he states.

I finally turn towards him and quirk an eyebrow, realising we are standing so close to one another. “Doesn’t seem very fair,” I say, playing along to whatever game he’s playing.

“No, it doesn’t.” He rubs his hand along his jaw and nods. “We could always share your TV?” he asks, shrugging before leaning an arm on the table behind me, partially caging me in. I throw caution to the wind completely, because we’ve not flirted like this since the party.

“And what about my bed?” I whisper, biting my lip again and leaning into him.

His eyes darken slightly. I’m guessing he thought I would put a stop to our flirting like I had before, but to be honest with Grant, I might need to get burned and deal with the consequences later.