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“Maybe I am.” She shifted her weight back and forth between both legs, swaying her hips with the pool stick in front of her. “I bet whatever the hell you just rambled on about five seconds ago doesn’t happen.”

“And if it does?” I perked my eyebrows up.

“I’ll buy the next round.”

“Hell, no.” I scoffed. “Your money is no good here.”

“Well, what else is on the line?”

“Your lips.” I smirked, feeling a boost of confidence.

“Excuse me?” Her eyes widened as if what she had just heard couldn’t be true.

“I’m saying, if I make every single solid left on this table, the eight-ball being the last, I want to kiss you, Andi.”

Rolling her eyes, she placed her hand on her hips. “You have no idea what you’re up against. But go ahead, shoot your balls.”

“Are you agreeing to the terms?”

“Sure. But it won’t happen. I can almost guarantee it.” She began unfastening the first couple of buttons to her flannel, and it was right then that I knew she was going to play dirty.

For whatever reason, I was coordinated enough to dance my ass off, but this silly little game of pool? It never really grabbed my attention—until now.

The way Hunter wore his hat backward, his blond hair flipping out so naturally, and his tongue poked out of his mouth ever so slightly as he focused on his next shot … I’d never seen this game look so hot. Fuck hockey and whatever he used to look like in pads and a smelly jersey. This right here was the image I’d be saving for my personal spank bank.

When he leaned over the table, his T-shirt rose just enough that I got a front row seat to that small sliver of exposed skin that had my mouth watering and ready for another beer.

A kiss was on the line, and I wasn’t sure if that scared me to death, or if after drinking in this relaxed version of him that wasn’t in a crisp suit or dress shirt, made me want it even more.

I couldn’t even begin to remember the last time I actually wanted a kiss so badly, and that was the thing scaring me more than anything. Wanting a kiss so desperately meant my heart was bound to get involved—if it wasn’t somehow already—and I was only three balls away from potentially having to pussy out of a bet I foolishly agreed to.

“Getting nervous there, Trouble?”

I shook out of my daze, internally scolding myself for getting lost in his stupidly handsome looks that he’d already made an insane amount of progress doing exactly what he told me he was going to do.

“Do I look nervous?” Hiding how I felt inside, I opened one more button to my flannel, letting the lace from my bra peek through.

“You look like you’re trying to distract me.” His eyes gave him away as he stole a glance down my shirt.

“Is it working?” I moved to the front of the table where his next shot would be. Bending over, my elbows rested along the slick wood edging, giving him a direct line of sight to my cleavage.

“It’s trouble,” he answered, moving himself into position to take his shot.

Sinking the solid green ball in as if it were nothing, my attempt at using my tits as a distraction failed miserably.

Only two balls were left.

It was time to dial up the heat. I was a dancer for fuck’s sake, and I’ve watched him practically fall apart in front of me before.

That was the kind of energy I needed to put into this if I wanted to win.

“Two balls left, Andi.” His reminder rang in my ear.

“I’ll drink to that.” Lifting the beer bottle to my lips, I tipped it back, holding his eye contact with mine. Before he could hunch down for his next shot, I pretended for the life of me that I could act.

“Shit!” Beer spilled down my chin, making its way for the center of my tits.

Hunter hid behind his pool stick with an all-knowing smirk as I undid one more button and dabbed at the liquid.