“Hello, ladies,” I greet the group crowded around Viv. They all look too startled by my appearance to reply.

“Are you limiting Viv’s whiskey consumption?” I ask Katie. “Last time, you didn’t do the best job.” I wink at her so she knows I’m kidding.

Katie opens and closes her mouth several times but doesn’t make any audible response to my teasing.

“Pretty sure that was your fault,” Viv informs me when it becomes clear Katie’s not going to speak anytime soon.

“Are you forgetting who carried you upstairs and forced you to drink water?”

“I’m sure your intentions were completely honorable.”

“Too bad you can’t say the same.” I smirk at her. She blushes, and I laugh.

“Dawson, quit flirting!” Anderson says as he strolls over and passes me a beer. “We’ve got a fourth for pong. Let’s go!”

Owens is close behind him. “We’re flipping for it,” Owens adds, tossing a quarter in the air and catching it neatly. “And then we’ll switch.”

“You guys are flipping for who gets to play against Jace?” Viv asks, amused.

I grin, and Anderson laughs.

“No, with him.” Owens explains.

“They’re both sore losers,” I tease.

“Then they should just beat you,” Viv contends.

“We’ve tried,” Anderson replies, rolling his eyes and looking disgruntled at the admission.

Viv scoffs. “I haven’t.”

Anderson crows with delight at this development. I look at Viv, brows raised. She meets my gaze, smirking. I don’t find any hint of apprehension in her expression.

“Did you miraculously gain some hand-eye coordination?” I ask. “I’ve seen you play football, you know.”

“I had a better beer pong teacher.” Viv challenges.

“Okay, you’re on.” I gesture for her to leave first, and she rolls her eyes, likely thinking I’m trying to soften her up by acting like a gentleman when really I’m just trying to keep my friends from staring at her ass.

Anderson’s already cleared away the remnants of the poker game and set up the cups. One of the wide receivers is filling the cups with beer. Viv and I take our places at either end of the table. I expect the confident expression she’s wearing, but I study it carefully, looking for any trace she’s bluffing. I find none.

For her sake, I hope she actually does know what she’s doing, or else this will be a short game. If she’s expecting me to take it easy on her just because I’m in love with her, she’s going to be sorely disappointed. You don’t get selected as the first overall pick without a healthy competitive spirit.

“Ladies first.” I gesture to Viv once the cups are filled.

She tosses the ball into one of the furthest cups, taking the most difficult shot first and executing it perfectly. Shouts and cheers fill the room. I keep my expression blank but raise one eyebrow at Viv. She winks at me.

I pull her ball out of the cup and drain the contents before passing it off to Anderson. He looks like a five-year-old kid on Christmas morning. I roll my eyes at him before turning back to the table to take my own shot. I usually start with the front cups, but Viv upped the stakes. I sink the white ball into the same cup she chose. I grin at her; she narrows her eyes before fishing it out and drinking from the cup. She passes the empty cup to Anderson and then turns back to the table. Viv sends the ball flying into the cup directly in front of the empty space her last shot created. I drink, then copy her.