I have to show Sophia one of my cards on her next turn, and I walk all the way around the table just to show her the illustration of a gun to ensure Beck can’t peek.

She shakes her head as I head back to my seat beside him. “Anyone ever tell you you’re competitive?”

“Multiple times a day,” I assure her.

And it’s affirmed twice more when I correctly guess the suspect, location, and weapon.

“You don’t have to be quite so excited about winning,” Beck informs me as we clean up the pieces. Sophia and Karl have already headed inside.

“Well, I didn’t exactly have a chance to celebrate last time,” I reply, referencing our shootout for the first time in weeks.

“Maybe because you knew it wasn’t a clean victory,” Beck replies.

“What was dirty about it?” I counter. “I made five, you made four.”

“My thoughts, for starters,” Beck replies.

I smirk as I meet his gaze. “You didn’t seem all that affected.”

“I’ve been training since I was a kid not to be affected on the field.”

But I affected him. He’s not saying it, but it’s spelled out in the subtext. “So, you’re saying you want a rematch?” I tease.

“No. There are other things I’d rather do with you than play football.” Heat and intensity mix in his gaze, but I don’t think he’s just talking about sex.

“Well, Karl left,” Sophia states, bouncing out onto the terrace. “So, you can relax, Adler.”

“Great,” he replies, dropping my gaze.

“I think I’m done with him this time,” she decides.

“Great,” Beck repeats dryly. I’m guessing it’s a line he’s heard before. He grabs the board game box and heads inside.

“I just need to meet some new guys,” Sophia declares. “Clubbing! We should go clubbing next weekend!”

“Uh, sure,” I reply, unsure what the proper etiquette is for going out with a fuck buddy’s family member. Sophia doesn’t seem put off by my lackluster response, bouncing back inside while I follow.

Beck and his parents are already waiting in the marble foyer. We all exchange goodbyes, and Erika tells me how much she’s looking forward to the youth camp next Sunday. Sophia gives me a hug.

I smile, and then we’re back outside. “Sophia likes you,” Beck comments as we climb into the car.

“I know. She told me thirty seconds after we met,” I respond glibly. “Also... she wants to go clubbing next weekend.” I study Beck’s face closely, worried he might be annoyed. But his expression barely flickers as he starts back down the cobblestone driveway.

“Not surprised,” he responds.

We roll through the gate and then hit cement. Beck accelerates accordingly, and soon we’re speeding along at his usual pace.