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“You’re both goin’ down,” Harrison screams, pointing at us, grabbing the woman next to him to kiss her.
“His wife,” Lexi says. “Took a lot for them to get together.”
“It’s usuallynoteasy.” I meet her eyes.This easy.
“Apologies in advance for kicking your ass,” Beckett offers with a nod.
Lexi turns to me with the ball in her hand and clanks it against mine. “You know how to play? Keep your elbow behind the table and don’t bounce—only bitches do that.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Sorry, I thought you would’ve been busy playing croquet or something.” She can’t fully get the words out of her mouth before she snorts, tossing a ball and sinking it into a cup.
“I was more into polo,” I admit as we toss again.
“You ride?” She gives an overhead throw and makes it.
“Yes.” I make mine too.
She turns to me. “Okay, so youareperfect.”
“For you,” I say.
Six more cups, and we’ll win.
A small smile plays over her lips as she throws again and misses.
I make mine, but it’s not enough.
Beckett and Harrison both make balls in our cups and rethrow them. Lexi and I tap the red plastic together and drink the warm beer.
She makes a face, and so do I.
“That was awful,” she hisses.
Beckett and Harrison don’t seem to notice or care, but I have a feeling this isn’t the first round they’ve played because of how much shit they’re talking. They clear out all but two cups.
“We’re gonna skunk your asses,” Harrison says, giving Beckett another high five.
“You suck,” Lexi says when Harrison flicks the ball and it lands in the last one. She begrudgingly drinks it, doing a little wiggle, like it helps it go down easier. It doesn’t.
“Boo-hoo,” Beckett mocks. “You lost, Lexi. I bet that stings.”
She laughs and flips them off. “Ihatelosing to them. They rub it in.”
“Aww, you’re cute when you don’t win,” I say, brushing my thumb against her cheek. “Want a drink?”
“Not if it’s hot, shitty beer.”
I pull a flask from my pocket and hand it to her.
“Gotta love a man who comes prepared.”
She takes a long drink, hands it to me, and I do the same. We stand off to the side, people-watching, laughing about nothing as we get buzzed like we’re teenagers.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispers.
“I am too,” I say.