When my ball goes into the gutter a second time, I plop down in the seat next to Samir and mutter, “This game is stupid.”

“Sore loser,” my brother says, grinning at me. I huff and stomp on his foot, but I doubt he can feel it through the bowling shoe.

Ace laughs and stands up, cracking his back and knuckles. He holds out a fist toward my brother and they fist bump.

“Gross,” I say, more for the sake of saying it than anything else.

Ace sticks his tongue out at me like a child before strolling over to the lane, grabbing a red ball on the way. He studies the pins before swinging his arm back, and the bowling ball rolls steadily down the lane. My jaw drops as it hits dead center, knocking down all the pins in one easy motion.

Of course. He’s gorgeous, sweet, and he can hit a strike on his first try.

Ace winks at me, holding his arms out. “It’s just simple physics, sweetie.”

“Simple phy—” I cut myself off and take a deep breath when I notice Mia and Daniela are giggling.

“You two are so silly,” Mia says fondly. “We’re here to have fun. It’s just a game.”

“That’s because you’re going to lose,” Samir says without missing a beat. He’s almost bursting with hyperactive energy. “Guys are just better at bowling.”

I flick Samir’s ear. “Stop being misogynistic.”

“I’m not!” Samir protests. “Is it my fault you and Ma suck at bowling?”

I give him an unimpressed look. “Don’t make me call you an Uber.”

Samir immediately mimes zipping his lips.

Mia just looks amused. “We’ll see how much better you really are. Want to bet ten dollars?”

After they shake on it, Mia lines up for her shot. When she hits a strike, I cheer loudly, pumping my fist.

“It’s a fluke,” Samir says dismissively.

I glance at Ace and he shakes his head. “Your poor brother,” he whispers. “I’d never bet against Mia.”

Daniela takes her shot next and hits eight of the pins in one go. She hits the remaining two in her second shot.

Samir only manages to hit nine pins during his turn. A look of horror is spreading across his face.

I’m feeling a similar sense of dread. I’m definitely the weakest player here, which means I’m going to bring down the girls’ side.

I’m lining up to swing when fingers brush my arm, stopping me. I freeze before I realize it’s Ace, whose hands are reaching down to press against mine.

I glance at Samir, but he’s arguing with Mia again, showing her something on his phone.

“You’re holding it wrong,” Ace says, lips brushing my ear. I try not to shiver at the touch, my attention falling back to him.