I switched her card with Alix so she could sit next to me instead.

“Hey. No moving the cards,” Braxton said as he took his own seat across the table from me. “It’s the rule. One you and Max made, isn’t it?”

“Move a card and we lose a game,” Arlo chimed in, finding it hard to hide his grin. “Every damn time.”

“Fuck off,” I told them all, laughing as the team tried to stare me down.

“I can sit where my card—” Emmersyn started, and her face had paled with fear.

These fuckers.

“The fuck you will. They’re giving you shit. And me. Welcome to the team, babe.”

I switched the cards and pulled her into her chair. Across the table, it was Braxton who laughed first. “We’re kidding. I mean, it is a rule we don’t move the cards, but just giving you shit. Sorry if we scared you.”

“Mean.” She scowled at all of them and shook her head. “That’s mean.”

“Don’t listen to them,” Dom said from her other side once everyone else found their seats. “They’re all assholes.”

“Says the largest asshole of them all.” Arlo raised his glass in Dom’s direction.

Dom shook his head.

Soon, lunch was served. Salads first for everyone who’d requested one. None for Emmersyn, but she dug into the breadsticks like she was the one prepping for a game that night.

We ate. We talked. We laughed. She was mostly quiet through it, happy to sit back and laugh with us, and when I settled my hand at her thigh, eating my spicy rigatoni with vodka sauce and chicken while she devoured her lobster ravioli, her hand came down on top of mine and squeezed.

“Thank you for inviting me. For including me.”

Her smile was soft, and I had to fight against leaning in and kissing her in front of my entire team. I didn’t care, but I didn’t want to embarrass her either. So I let my own look say everything I was thinking and hoped she understood how much I liked having her with me.

After lunch, we headed out to the valet parking area. We were waiting for my SUV to be brought around when a teenage boy with a forest green hat flipped around backward and tufts of hair sticking out every which way beneath it, hesitantly walked closer to us. He stopped, looked back to a man and woman with smiles on their faces, parents, I figured, and came another step closer.

“Hey, man. What’s going on?” I grinned at him.

This kid was nervous, but I knew what he wanted. He had his phone in one hand and a card in another.

“Hey. Mr. Andrews, right?”

“That’s me. But you can call me Kane, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded frantically. “Yeah. I mean, cool. It’s awesome to meet you. I’m a big fan of your team. I was wondering if I could get your autograph?”

He held out a menu card he must have grabbed from somewhere in the casino.