Mason laughed loudly. “Oh, she’s cocky.”
Prescott told us to wait for a second and ran off. When he returned, he was holding cans of beer. Maybe it was the alcohol already in my system, but I felt like I would cry then. I didn’t deserve him and Marissa. They were, by far, the most thoughtful people on the planet. Pres filled the cups, and the game kicked off. Mason wasn’t wrong. I hadn’t played in quite a while, but it was like riding a bike. I missed two shots, and the rest were buckets. Mason, on the other hand, wasn’t as good as he thought he was. We won three consecutive games before Prescott and Dustin threw in the towel.
CHAPTER10
LYLA
“Don’t be a sore loser,Prescott Sanders.” I bumped my hip against his side as I helped him pick up the cups and toss them.
“You aresonot the underdog,” Mason said with a comical look of disbelief.
He’d had the same look on his face every time I made a shot, so basically, the entire time we played. I’d been having so much fun that I forgot about everyone else at the party, but now that it was over, my thoughts drifted back to Lachlan. I wondered what he was doing but quickly followed it up withwho the fuck cares? Seriously, Lyla, who fucking cares what he’s doing or who he’s doing it with?
“I’m going to take a break,” I said to Pres.
“Are you going to spend the rest of the night alone, leaning against the fence?” He shot me a stern look. “Do I need to remind you of your binding contract?”
“That’s a no to both,” I said as I walked away. “I just need a short break.”
“She won’t be alone,” Mason said behind me. “I’ll hang out with her for a little.”
Prescott said something in response that I couldn’t hear, to which Mason scoffed loudly.
“How did you get so good at beer pong?” Mason asked. I glanced up as he reached me.
“Practice.” I slowed my steps to watch a group of people playing Stack Cup.
It was another game I enjoyed and was good at. It was beer pong on steroids, but I knew my limits and couldn’t even consider playing that tonight. Between the tequila sunrise Marissa made for us at home for the pre-game, the shots of tequila we’d taken here, and the beer (which hadn’t been much, but still), I’d gone from a little tipsy, to tipsy, to drunk. I wasn’t slurring my words drunk, but drunk enough that I felt a smile on my face and probably needed a lot of water to get back to tipsy. We stopped walking when we reached the wooden fence, just a few steps away from the Stack Cup people.
“You play that one too?” Mason asked, propping a foot on the iron fence behind us and nodding at the Stack Cup game.
“I used to,” I said. “I don’t really party anymore.”
“I’ve noticed, but I’ve seen you at parties and events these last couple of weeks.”
“The semester’s almost over. I figured I’d go out with a bang.” I looked up at him. “And it’s Marissa’s birthday. We have a deal that’s kind of set in stone.”
“Oh?” He let his eyes rake over me. “A deal where you let us admire how hot as fuck you are?”
I bit my tongue.
“Sorry,” he said quickly.
I smiled. “Don’t apologize for giving me a compliment.”
He grinned. “I think this is the most we’ve ever spoken.”
“Don’t get used to it.” I crossed my arms. “Tomorrow, I’ll probably go back to the same ol’ boring Lyla.”
“Why?” He frowned.
I shook my head. “If I get into it, I’ll start sulking, and that’s against the rules tonight.”
“No questions, then.” Mason did a little salute like we were soldiers. “Actually, I have one.”
“Let’s hear it.” I shifted my body, so I was facing him. We weren't uncomfortably close, but we'd be within kissing range if we took one more step. “Is anything going on with you and Lach?”
“Oh, God.” I let out a short laugh and shook my head. “Next question.”
