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“No, I'm pretty sure I can figure out how to hit a ball with a stick.” I look at him with a little extra sass.

He holds his palms up in surrender. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.” The look on his face is cute, and I find myself having a hard time looking away. But I have a point to prove.

Strutting over to the table, I grab a pool stick that hangs on the wall.

“Ava, since we're popping your pool cherry, you can go ahead and do the honor of breaking. I’ll rack up and then you aim for the top of the triangle,” Weston instructs.

“Seems easy enough.” I shrug with mock confidence.

Fidgeting with the stick, I lean over the table.

This can’t be that hard. But the stick is long and awkward to control.

I try and close my eyes, picturing how I’ve seen other people play, but that was only on TV.

I’ve never seen a game in real life. With more effort than it should require, I finally thread the stick between my index and middle finger and aim for the white ball, which makes a satisfying clanking sound when it makes contact.

Unfortunately, that’s where my luck runs out.

The white ball bounces around, hitting nothing.

“Weston, I think we finally found someone you can beat in pool,” Maverick says, and I do my best to send visual daggers his way.

“Fuck off, Mav.” Weston flips Mav the bird as he sips his beer.

My turn quickly comes back around. Heat suddenly presses behind me, and I don’t even have to ask who it is, I can tell by the way my body reacts to his closeness. His deep voice whispers in my ear, “Which do you hate more, asking for help or losing?”

Closing my eyes, I try to ignore the way my body feels this close to his. With some extra bite, I respond, “Neither, cowboy. I’m just getting started. Give me a few rounds and I’ll be kicking everyone's ass in no time.”

Maverick chuckles against the shell of my ear and it sends goosebumps over my body. “I don’t doubt that at all, sweetheart, but since you’re new and my wife, it’s my duty to help you.”

My wife.

There are too many wars going on inside my head right now to fight him on this. “Okay,” I say. I’m not sure if I’m more worried about losing this game of pool or losing the closeness of him in this moment.

His body is flush against mine, making it feel like my brain is full of sparking wires.

I can’t concentrate on anything right now.

Trying to control my breathing is hard enough.

I close my eyes for half a second to get a fucking grip.

His woodsy smell drifts around me, filling me in a bubble entirely full of him.

If we weren’t in public, I wonder if this would be the final thread that would snap.

But we aren’t alone, and I am sure this move alone has our little friend group gawking.

“Okay, sweetheart, you can either thread the pool stick between your index finger and your middle finger or between your index finger and your thumb,” he says.

“Okay, which one do you do?” I ask, not having enough brain cells left to make this choice for myself.

“I do between my finger and my thumb.”

“Okay, then I’ll do my index finger and my middle finger,” I say, because going along with him all willy-nilly has never led to anything good. His laugh behind me brings a smile to my face, a smile I'm glad his smug ass can’t see.

He helps line up the cue with the ball and then steps away. I shoot, hitting the ball, but it shoots sideways, completely missing every other ball on the table. “Son of a bitch,” I mutter under my breath. I need to focus, or I’m going to end up losing a lot tonight.

Weston chuckles from beside us and Aspen gets ready to shoot her shot. She lines up and it goes straight in the pocket.

My anger starts to flare because I really hate losing. Apparently more than ever with this stupid little game. “How come it looks so easy when you do it?” My exasperated eyes land on Aspen.

“Because I’ve been playing pool in this bar long before I was legal. How do you think I earned my weekend shopping money?” Her sly smile has me laughing. Of course she was hustling men in pool. I tuck that away for another reason to love her.

I look over to Mav. “Okay, fine. Tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

I fully expected him to tease me for it, but he doesn’t, and that’s the only reason I didn’t whack him with my pool stick. “Alright, you are way too tight. You need to loosen up. And when you strike, you need to push through. Don’t just stop because you feel the ball.”

“The fact you just said tight and balls without laughing means you are more mature than I had originally thought. But okay. Loosen up and follow through, I can do that.” I put on a show of stretching my neck side to side.

I lean down and get into position. My hair falls to the side as I turn to look at Mav before shooting my shot.

“Is my form right?” I confirm, and a part of me wonders if he feels this heat between us too.

If the look in his eyes as he stares at me, bent over this table, is any answer, I'd say I’m not the only one who feels like melting .

“You just need to move your arm a little.” He slides close again, moving my arm to be better positioned on the stick.

Goosebumps raise on my arm from where his hand sits on my skin.

My body feels greedy for his touch. “Stagger your legs a little more,” he taps the back of my thigh, and sweet Jesus, the heat that fills me could cause an inferno, “and lean forward.” I do as he says.

Swallowing hard, I take a deep breath to recenter myself.

I notice Maverick positions himself behind me.

I look down at my dress and suddenly get the feeling he doesn’t like the idea of other men catching a peek.

I like that. I like that way more than I should.

Okay, seriously, Ava. Focus .

Firing my shot, the ball goes gliding toward a solid and knocks it and the solid next to it into the pocket. My eyes go wide and excitement fills me as I turn to face Maverick to make sure he saw my shot.

My hands shoot in the air. “Yes! Take that, Weston. You’re the only loser here now!

” I surprise myself by finishing my celebratory jumps by leaping into Maverick’s arms for a hug.

And it’s this moment, that I realize I am so very screwed because I am catching feelings for the husband I am only supposed to have for six months.