“Me too,” Tanner agrees.
“I’m sure you are,” I say under my breath, walking to my side of the table.
“What does that mean?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I retort, annoyed. “Let’s play.”
The game begins, and with every hit, it’s apparent that once again Tanner and I are the better players. In no time, we are up nine to three, and I send a silent thank you to the universe that this game is moving fast. Two more points and we win.
“I honestly thought y’all would be better competition than Jacks and Lacey,” Tanner yells at our opponents.
I giggle and send the ball flying back over the net.
“We’re not that bad,” Poppy argues, missing the ball.
“That’s our point,” I shout. “10-3.”
Tanner sends the ball straight at them. Logan returns it, but Tanner doesn’t even try to hit it.
“10-4,” Poppy calls out.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to throw the game with hits like that,” Logan yells.
“You better not be,” I yell, cutting my eyes in Tanner’s direction.
Poppy serves the ball, and she and I return it back and forth a couple of times before I send it flying over the net toward Logan, who misses.
“Shall we pick a song?” I ask, turning towards Tanner.
“After you.” He puts his hand out, and I move past him toward the DJ.
“We make a good team,” he says.
“Hard not to when the people you’re playing against suck.”
“I guess so. Do you play often? You’re really good.”
“We need to pick a song,” I say.
“Oh, um. Okay. Maybe ‘Love In This Club’? Everyone thought it was funny last time.”
“No, that’s what they were going to pick, plus they’re obsessed with one another, so they’d love it to be a hot song. It has to be something dumb,” I say. “Like I don’t know, maybe?—”
“‘The Hokey Pokey,’” we say at the same time.
“Ha! I told you we make a good team,” he says, flashing me a smile that takes up his entire face.
My stomach flips, and I feel a small smile form across my lips. I try to hide it, but it’s too late. He catches it, and a larger one erupts across his. “Thinking Out Loud” by Ed Sheeran pours through the speakers, and couples sway all around us, wrapped in each other's arms. He takes a step towards me, and my stomach does another swoop when his blue eyes find mine.
“I know we won, but do you want to dance before you tell the DJ to play the song for them?” he asks.
The cosmos and the music must be messing with me because there is no way I’m falling for whatever is happening right now.
“Oh, um…” I stammer. “I told Gray I’d share an Uber with her after our game.”
“Yeah, you’re right. It’s late. No worries,” he says, pushing his hand through his hair, and fuck, my stomach does it again when his bicep flexes.
“Sorry. I’m just gonna go tell the DJ,” I say, more panicked than I intend.
