Page 19 of Clueless Romeo

"All of my shots are nice, so don't say I didn't warn you." The taunt hit its mark, and Roman's eyes narrowed as he prowled toward me.

"My turn."

I bounce-passed the ball to him, and he quickly hooked an arch sending the ball toward the hoop.

Swish. Or at least it would have if there had been a net.

"The fuck," I whispered and sent him a confused look. "You played ball?"

"I might have played several rounds of horse as a kid." His lips twitched, holding back a smile.

"Bullshit," I called. "'Fess up."

He chuckled before chasing down the ball that had rolled into the surrounding winter-dead grass. When he turned, he dribbled the ball, and I tracked how easily he alternated between both hands. I'd been played.

I glared at him, and he seemed to battle a smile. But a glint sparkled in his eyes, knowing he'd gotten away with his little secret. "I played in high school. Was pretty decent, but I didn't take it to college with me like you."

"You scheming…" My eyes narrowed to slits. He might have actually known what he was doing, but I'd been up against guys who'd gone pro afterward. "Wanna make a bet before we start?"

Appearing unfazed, his smile broke free, and he wiggled his eyebrows. "Now you're speaking my language. Name your terms."

"If I win, we take the whole day off." I arched my brow, expecting him to back out. "You win, you get to go back to work and make all the love connections."

Roman snorted. "You act like I want to go back to work."

"You may not want to, but you will because it's on your schedule." I smirked, reminding him that a lot had changed since his rebellious days. Honestly, I was surprised by his comment because he seemed pretty damn dedicated to his job.

He scowled and darted forward, taking the ball to the other end of the court, where he easily sank a layup. Turning toward me, he winked. "You don't know me as well as you think."

He wasn't wrong. I was learning more each time we spoke. But I wouldn't admit that. While much of the sport was talent, a big part was mental, so I just needed to get in his head a bit. "What are we playing?"

"First to five points," he suggested.

I shook my head as if disappointed. "This is going to be fast."

He opened his mouth, likely another taunt ready on his lips. Nope. I moved fast, stealing the ball and sprinting to the other end.

Roman cursed, and his feet pounded the ground behind me. I'd taken him by surprise, a shady move, but whatever. He could be mad when he was taking the day off. When I jumped up toward the goal, the ball rolled off my fingertips, thumping against the backboard, and then fell through the hoop.

I spun around, taking a bow. "One."

He scowled. "Because you cheated. Good to know there are no rules. That won't happen again."

A sinful curl of his lips made my brain short circuit. He took advantage of the situation and grabbed the ball that I hadn't noticed was near his feet.

I quickly crouched, and when he shot forward, I crowded him, blocking and trying to steal the ball. He spun around, gave me his back, and nudged me backward.

It was my fault he'd gotten the jump on me in the first place. I'd been distracted and needed to take back control. "I can do this all day, Cupid."

He laughed and made his move, sidestepping me, and I cursed as I ran to chase him down. It was too late. The fucker was faster than I'd expected.

The ball fell through the naked hoop and he turned, signature smirk in place. "No need, neighbor. I'll have this wrapped up in a few minutes. Mylove connectionsare waiting after all."

A sudden laugh burst from my chest, and he followed, the sound husky and making my body react to him in a way my sweatpants wouldn't conceal.

I swallowed hard, choking out, "Your clients will just have to wait an extra day to find their soulmates."

"No such thing," he argued, scooping up the ball. "You think there's one person out there for everyone?"

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