Page 126

The crowd’s excitement rises, but all I hear is my pulse thundering in my ears.
“If I win.” He stops behind me, his lips brushing my ear. “I get a kiss.”
Why do I feel excited? We never kissed. Not once. “Just one kiss?”
His chuckle is warm, indulgent, stirring the fine hairs at my nape. “You want more?”
“And if I win?”
“Your pick.”
“If I win… you open a restaurant.”
“Aiming high. Are we?”
“You in or not?”
“Sure.”
I straighten up, forcing steel into my spine. “Hope you’re ready to lose, Milton.”
“I’ve been losing since the day I met you.”
There’s no hint of humor in his voice, no playful edge. Just raw honesty. He’s not talking about beer pong. He’s talking about every moment since we met. Every time I pushed him away. Every time he tried to get closer and I built my wallshigher. Every time he offered his heart and I pretended not to see it.
He lingers a moment longer, his presence a solid wall of heat at my back, then returns to his end of the table. The look he gives me is pure challenge, mixed with something darker that makes my stomach flip, in a good way.
Blake materializes at my side, pressing a ping-pong ball into my palm. “What did he say?”
I close my fingers around it, feeling its smooth surface against my sweaty palm. “He wants a kiss if he wins.”
“Holy shit.” Her grin is downright feral. “And if you win?”
“He has to open his restaurant.” I can’t look at her as I say it.
“That’s… not what I expected, but it works. You both win either way.”
“Or we both lose.”
Brandon picks up the ball. “Ladies first.”
I line up the ball, ignoring the slight tremor in my fingers. Just like old times.
Except now the stakes feel impossibly higher.
The ball leaves my fingers and misses completely.
His smile is wicked. “You missed.”
“Your turn.”
His first shot arcs through the air in a perfect trajectory. The ball bounces once, twice, and plunks straight into my center cup.
“Drink.” His voice carries that same commanding tone he uses when—no. Not going there.
I lift the cup, downing the contents in three quick gulps. The crowd cheers. But wait—the familiar burn of alcohol doesn’t come. Instead, there’s the sweet bite of ginger ale sliding down my throat. My eyes snap to Blake, who gives me the tiniest wink.
That sneaky bitch.