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“Fantastic!” Brady slaps his palm against the wooden edge of the pool table. “Well done, Graham.”

“I didn’t do anything,” I argue, taking the beers and handing one to each of them.

“Now we just need to figure out this doctor position and we’ll be golden,” Brady says and leans against the high-top table as Nick knocks the cue ball against a group of solids in the far corner.

“Right,” I mumble against the rim of my bottle. The energy in the room shifts suddenly. My skin tightens and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. I know before I turn my head that she’s here.

“Ana!” Brady calls with a warm smile. “I’m glad you were able to get out of the office for a while!”

My spine stiffens and my knuckles go white around my bottle as her light voice caresses my senses. I cut my eyes to her, trying to avoid fully looking at her and notice that her smile is warm and easy. Her body language is relaxed as she approaches Brady. She hasn’t seen me yet.

“Luckily the boys are listening to recommendations so I don’t have that many messes to clean up,” she responds with a laugh.

My heart twists at the sound, and I almost drop my beer as the pain jolts through me. This is a terrible idea, and I need to get out now. Maybe I can slip away before she notices I’m here.

“Graham was just telling us that we just got ourselves another scrum-half,” Nick states and leans against his pool stick.

Ana’s body stiffens at the sound of my name and she whirls around, eyes scanning the room. When they find mine, I can see the momentary pain and desperation in them. It’s a mirror of my own. I hold up my bottle, trying to act unperturbed. “Bodhi said yes this afternoon. We just need him to sign on the dotted line.” I hope my voice is calmer than I feel.

She nods once, averting her eyes and taking a sip of her drink. She looks uncomfortable now, and it makes me feel terrible.

I pull two pool sticks from their holder on the wall and approach her slowly like I’m walking up to a cornered tiger. “Hey,” I say gently, holding a stick out to her. “Want to play?”

She looks at the stick like it’s going to reach over and bite her. “That’s probably a bad idea,” she mutters and takes a step back.

“It’s just a game,” I coax her, taking a step forward. “Just two people playing a game of pool after work. Nothing more.” We could do that, couldn’t we?

“No,” she shakes her head and her lips twitch. “I just mean I’m not very good.”

I arch a brow. “Something you’re not good at?” I tease, unable to help myself. “I’d like to see that.”

“Fine,” she snaps and finishes her drink, slamming the empty glass onto the table. “But I warned you.” She takes the stick from me and moves around to the cue ball. “So if I get a stripey ball in, I’m stripes?”

I nod and lean my hip against the edge of the pool table, watching her lean forward and aim at the triangle of balls. “Are you aiming for a stripey ball?” I tease, chuckling under my breath. My cock twitches behind my zipper as her hips sway and her tongue pokes out the corner of her mouth. Her brows furrow in deep concentration, and it’s the single most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.

“No. I’m shooting solids,” she responds and lets the tip of the stick connect to the cue ball, sending it hurtling and crashing into the group. Balls fly across the table so fast I can’t keep up with them all, but I do see a solid ball sink into the corner pocket. Her eyes cut up to me and a devilish smirk turns up her lips as she straightens and chalks the end of her stick.

It’s in that moment that I know I’ve fucked up.

“You’re sneaky,” I chuckle and cue up, sending the white ball into a group of striped balls.

Her eyes flash and she shrugs her shoulders. Her body is still tense like she’s on guard, but it’s not like it has been. “Just didn’t think you’d still be interested if you knew you’d get beat by a girl.”

I take a step toward her, her body practically vibrating. It takes all my self-control not to haul her against my chest and kiss the sass from her lips. “I’m still interested,” I growl, my voice dropping low.

She arches a brow, catching the double meaning of my words, and squares her shoulders. She’s not backing down. “Good,” she whispers and lines up her shot, sending another two solid balls into opposite pockets. “Because we’re nowhere near done.”

I practically preen at her words, knowing fully well that she's no longer talking about the game of pool. The front of my trousers become unbearably tight as she leans across the table in front of me. She looks over her shoulder, smirking as she catches me staring.

My mind is reeling from her change in demeanor, and I can't help the small kernel of hope that begins to blossom in my chest. If this woman is going to be the death of me, I'll gladly take my last breath inhaling her intoxicating scent.