Then I knock the shot back in one smooth motion, eyes on his the entire time.
“Please, that’s your move?” Heat blooms up my neck like I can burn him off my body if I try hard enough.
The corner of his mouth lifts, and it’s the sexist fucking thing. But I’mnevergoing to admit that out loud.
My gaze dips, first to the lips then to the throat. “You’re going to have to do a hell of a lot better than that.”
I sit back, arms crossed over a ribcage that’s vibrating like I touched live wire. My words say no.
Everything else screams yes.
The space between us pulses, thick and charged with electricity. And no one says a word. Maya is stone silent, blinking. Rishi looks like he’s watching the best pay-per-view of his life. Even Nolan—cocky bastard—isn’t breathing. Not really.
It’s Jeremy who breaks the silence and steals the show. “Are y’all about to start hate-fucking on the table?”
Rishi snorts. Maya’s still blinking.
“Someone clear the bar tab now, because I think they’re about to break a surface and a hip,” Jeremy continues. “Seriously, I haven’t been this turned on since that fireman calendar signing in SoHo.”
I roll my eyes.
Jeremy whoops. “Battle of the agencies here we come. Literally. Trivia death match. Shot collar edition.”
“You mean shotcollarboneedition,” Rishi corrects.
I groan. “You’re all idiots.”
Nolan smirks.
God help me—I want to wipe that smirk off his face.
With my mouth.
Nolan pushes out of his seat to go and register Big Stream.
“What’s your team name?” Rishi asks.
Jeremy beams. “CTRL+ALT+DEFEAT.”
Rishi nods approvingly. “Classic. Painfully millennial.”
Maya pops a peanut in her mouth. “Who knew trivia could be so intense?”
Nolan returns, tapping their name into his phone. I glimpse it:Born To Win, Forced To Play.
“Dumb,” I say.
“Don’t be jealous that our team name is better than yours,” he says, grinning.
“Debatable.”
The first question pings: “What was the name of NSYNC’s debut album released in the U.S.?”
Jeremy and I slam the buzzer. “N Sync—duh.”
Behind me, Rishi whispers, “Was that the one with the marionette cover?”
Nolan sighs. “No, that was No Strings Attached.”
