“Alright, middle school,” Mateo admitted.

Archer laughed again and pulled a skeptical face. “Do middle school teams even have captains?”

“Okay, fine. I wasn’t the captain. But you’re still going down.”

“Well.” Archer took a step closer, meeting Mateo’s intense gaze. “We’ll see about that.”

At first glance, the teams looked unfair, with Mateo’s strength and power on the same side as Gage and Dominik’s height.

“Wow, look at the team you put together for yourself,” Betty noted wryly, studying the group across the net. “Looks totally fair.”

“Didn’t you play in high school?” Dominik asked Betty. “I should think you can handle us.”

“You just said that didn’t matter!”

“Fine, you want to swap with me?”

Betty narrowed her eyes. “You know what? No. We’re going to destroy you.”

“Oh, yeah? Care to make it interesting?”

Archer groaned, aware that he was terrible at volleyball and there was about to be more at stake than bragging rights.

“What did you have in mind?” Betty asked, hands on hips.

An evil grin stretched across Dominik’s face. “Best of three. The losing duet partner has to pamper the winner for the day tomorrow, up until the show. Breakfast in bed, massage, whatever they want.”

Archer’s eyes snapped over to Mateo’s. He was looking back. Archer’s lips quirked. Interesting. Here’s a bet I don’t mind losing.

Betty snorted. “Deal. I like poached eggs for breakfast, no salt.”

Dominik snorted and started putting on a show stretching his shoulders. “Extra salt on mine, love.”

Betty shook hands with Dominik, then called her team over to the center of their court. “Okay, things got interesting. I think we all know how much is riding on this game, particularly how insufferable Dominik will become, and all the crazy shit he’s going to make me do. I need you to give it your all. Please. For me.”

“I apologize in advance—” Archer began.

“Not accepted,” Betty snapped. “You’re tall and strong and can jump ten feet in the air. I expect a lot from you, Archer.”

“Yeah, we can do this,” Caleb said, although Archer noticed him eyeing Ben, his duet partner, on the other side. He suspected that Caleb wouldn’t mind losing, either.

“Fuck yeah, we can,” Betty agreed. “Hands in for a cheer. ‘Dominik sucks’ on three.”

Betty served first and absolutely drilled one right at Dominik’s head. He all but shrieked and threw up his arms to protect his face. The ball careened off his forearm and went flying toward the water.

Betty smiled. “One–nothing,” she called. “Could you get the ball for me please, love?”