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Shae pouts dramatically before turning to Ryder. "Well then... dance with me, Biker Boy?"

Somewhere over the course of the night, Ryder's attention shifted from Addie to Shae, which is fine by me.

"Sure thing, Red." He sets his cue against the wall, loops an arm through hers, and lets her drag him toward the dance floor, leaving Addie and me alone for the first time all night.

Nothing has changed since we spoke in the wind-down pens a few hours ago, but for some reason the space between us feels different, and I can’t place why. Before I can think of something to say, which probably would have been something dumb anyway, she does it for me.

"Chacey Poo?" she mocks, referring to Shae's comment when I first arrived. "I didn't know you and Shae were that kind of close."

Wait, what?

I expect a lot of things to come out of Addie's mouth, but jealousy over Shae — who is probably currently on the dance floor grinding her ass against another man’s dick — is not one of them.

I'm not entirely sure how to answer, but somehow I land on, "Aww, Sunshine. You sound jealous." I step around the pool table, moving closer. "But if you must know, there's nothing going on between me and Shae. Never has been. Never will be."

She retreats half a step, feigning indifference. "What? No. I don't care. I'd just never heard her call you that before." She crosses her arms. "Besides — it's you. Is there even a girl in Ashford Ridge you haven't slept with?"

I move in closer. Her eyes stay locked on mine—full lashes, chin up—standing her ground like the spitfire she is. I look down at her and say, "You, Addie. I've never fucked you." I then gesture down my own body in one slow, exaggerated sweep. "Sounds like you might be a little bitter that you haven't experienced all this. Just let me know. It can be arranged."

She shoves me with her shoulder as she scoots around me, laughing. "You're a pig."

"Fine." I point my cue at the table. "Let's play. If you win, you get to drive the next leg to Cheyenne.”

She perks up at that.

"And if I win—" I pause like I'm thinking it over. "We kiss."

Her mouth drops open like I've suggested the most outrageous thing in the world, but the glint in her eyes tells a different story. I’m going straight to hell for this.

"What makes you think I want that filthy mouth of yours anywhere near mine?" She's already rubbing chalk over the tip of her cue.

"Afraid you'll lose, Sunshine?"

"Ha! I could beat you blindfolded and drunk," she shoots back.

"That sounds fun, actually. But you are drunk." I point out as I rack the balls. "So, just afraid of losing then?"

She rolls her eyes. "I have a slight buzz. There's a difference."

She bends over the table to break, and I’m watching her ass instead of paying attention to the game. The cue cracks, and the balls explode across the felt, two solids dropping into opposite corner pockets.

She straightens slowly, meeting my eyes with a smug grin. "Game. Fucking. On."

Chapter twelve

Addie

I'm drunk.

That's the only explanation for why I agreed to a bet where losing means kissing Chace Walker. I don't back down from a challenge, even when that challenge comes wrapped in faded Wranglers and an easy smile. That's all this is— my competitive streak getting the better of me.

Chace straightens up from studying the table, rolling his shoulders once before looking at me like he's already won.

He would think that. His Montana-sized ego is infuriating, and I just want to knock it down a peg, or three.

The music from downstairs drifts up to where the pool tables are tucked away, loud enough to fill the room but muted enough that we don't have to shout over it. I was relieved when everyone moved up here. After a few drinks, I'd hit my limit on crowded dance floors and flashing lights. Pool felt more my speed after a couple of hours of Shae’s relentless energy for dancing.

When Chace had shown up, I'd caught him walking in from the corner of my eye while I was standing with Shae and Ryder. His jeans hugged him in all the right places, and the sleeves of his faded flannel were rolled to his forearms, exposing just the edge of a tattoo beneath the cuff. His stupid baseball cap sat low on his head, his hair doing that infuriating thing where it pokes out around his ears just enough to make me want to reach up and tuck it back. Then some girl walked past and smiled at him, and the asshole effortlessly smiled right back.