Page 50 of Playing Flirty

“Correct! It’s a fizzy drink, you seem to hate it.”

“Coke.”

“The full name,” he bit out, his tone urgent.

“Coca-Cola,” I replied, and then added, “Ankara. The capital is Ankara!”

“Correct and correct. The winners of the last UEFA.”

I shook my head.

“It’s soccer,” he added.

“Liverpool?” My eyes widened. “Manchester?”

“You had a colleague with the same name. You were really sad when she resigned.”

“Chelsea!” I jumped up, as if that would get the answer to him quicker.

“Yes!” he shouted as the last grain of sand fell through the timer.

We were already standing from sheer excitement and broke out into our own individual winning dances. His dance was way worse than mine, but he looked better doing it.

Shaun took the card and shook his head. “Nope, Chelsea F.C.”

“What?” I turned to him.

“Chelsea F.C.” he repeated. “You only gave half the answer.”

While I wanted to win, I was a stickler for the rules, and everyone knew it. With a deep grumble, I watched as Neema and Lincoln ended up taking the gold, and William and I sulked over our almost win.

After everyone made peace with one another, I went to the balcony, hoping William would follow me again.

He did.

“Those jeans are against the rules.” His soft words, so close behind me, sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine.

Glancing over my shoulder, our gazes locked as he tilted his head to one side.

I giggled, spinning fully around to face him. “We should have won.”

A strange sense of weightlessness filled me, scaring me… like I might float away.

“I’m counting it as a win.” William closed the space between us and handed me a sheet of paper. “I sketched this last night while we were texting. I think this is what you’re imagining?”

I unfolded it and couldn’t hold back my grin at the squiggly lines and scribbles with made-up names of regions I’d created for my game.

“I love it,” I managed.

“Awesome. I’ll get someone at work to make it look good.”

I took him in, absorbing the sound of his soft, sure voice when he spoke about my game, the twinkle in his eyes when he’d challenged me only moments ago, and the way he leaned against the wall in that moment, just looking at me.

I stepped toward him. “How did you know about Chelsea?”

He bit his bottom lip. “Like I said, you were really sad when she left.”

I stood on my toes and kissed the underside of his jaw. His head dipped, reuniting our mouths as his large hands slid across my back and pulled me closer. Hot lips trailed my neck, and the ache within me grew deeper, tighter. His urgent kisses lingered on my skin, pausing to savor me.

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