Pedro caws triumphantly.
“They started fiery. They continued provocative. They nearly set the kitchen on fire and decorated a tree in total darkness better than you all do in daylight.”
She raises her voice, arms spread wide.
“With a monstrous total of 360 points, thanks to a rainstorm of Diva Bonuses and Fire Bonuses… OUR CAPTAINS—SLOANE AND COHEN!”
There’s no acting required—we both explode with real excitement.
I turn and throw my arms around Cohen’s neck. He lifts me off the ground, spinning me, and for a few dizzy, bright seconds, the world is nothing but blurred colors and his laugh against my cheek.
“Three-sixty,” he says, lowering me but not letting go. “Told you we’d win.”
“You’re insufferable,” I pant, laughing.
“I’m a winner. And I’m teamed up with the best.”
He winks—and as sexy and cocky as that is… it’s the other part that hits me.
I’m teamed up with the best.
It’s not the first time he’s said it.
He said it the day we made our deal too. That teaming up with me meant guaranteed victory.
My heart stutters.
Cohen has believed in me from the beginning…
We go to claim the giant marshmallow from Tina.
As we head back to our spot, I pass by Joe.
He’s livid.
“It’s just luck,” he hisses when I walk past.
I stop.
Cohen stops with me—towering, immovable.
“It’s not luck, Joe,” I say calmly. “It’s what happens when you focus on your partner instead of watching and provoking everyone else.”
Cohen doesn’t say a word.
He just slips a hand around my waist, claiming me in front ofhim—and everyone.
A gesture louder than any threat.
We roast the marshmallow in the victory fire.
It’s sweet, sticky, charred—perfect.
Cohen feeds me a piece, then licks his fingers with such intention I forget the cold, the game, the audience. And just like last time… he offers me his half.
“Let’s go,” he murmurs, voice rough. “I need to celebrate this win in a… private setting.”
I glance at the scoreboard glowing with our dominance.
