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“Is there a reason you’re not drinking alcohol today?” he asks.

I shrug.

“I thought drinking relaxed you.”

I shrug again. “Maybe I’m looking for something else to help me relax instead.”

He steps back and tilts his head. “Is that so?”

I nod.

“And what might that be?” he asks.

I reposition my stance, but Preston moves behind me. His hands find my hips, and his chest rests against my back.

“It’s not nice to tease if you don’t mean it,” he whispers in my ear.

I wiggle my butt against his dick.

“Who says I’m teasing?”

“Hey, are you two prepared to win or what?” Bash asks. He’s forcing a smile as he looks at the man leaning over my shoulder. “Or not,” he follows up.

“We’re ready,” I say quickly and start to walk off. Preston grabs my hand, pulls me back so fast I spin into his arms and come face-to-face with him.

His lips are so close that if I were to move even an inch, they’d touch.

I should do it.

I should kiss him.

He leans in.

I close my eyes.

And then his presence is gone.

“We have a game to win, Sunny. Focus.”

I shake my head and smile.

“I’m focused.”

“Yeah, okay,” he says and takes my hand in his, pulling us toward the net.

Marcus is grinning as if he’s got some plan to beat us, but I think he underestimates the drive Preston and I have. Individually, it’s peak, but together, we are unstoppable.

I turn to Preston at the same time he turns to me.

All the fun and games of flirting and teasing are over.

It’s go time.

“The first one to score wins,” Anthony reminds us.

Marcus serves first, and Preston sends it back, then Marcus jumps in front of his wife and hits it back.

I bump it over the net.