“I know it is. Now write it,” she snaps.

This is how it’s been the entire time. Myla and I go back and forth with answers while Nichole and Banner whisper into each other’s ears. Well, they’re doing more than that. I actually witnessed Nichole’s hand rubbing over Banner’s jean-clad crotch, so I know it’s only a matter of time before they take off.

Not wanting to argue anymore, I write down Tiger and hold up the whiteboard.

Once the time is up, the host for the night says, “Bisley’s Balls, you’re correct.”

“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter while Myla claps excitedly.

She nudges me and says, “Have you learned your lesson yet?”

“Annoyingly so.”

“We’re going to take a ten-minute break before the finale,” the host says. “Feel free to fill up on drinks.”

“We’re headed to the bar,” Banner says. “Want anything?”

“I’m good,” I answer. “Myla, do you want something?”

“We’ll both take another beer, thanks.” She winks and then turns toward me and rests her hand on my thigh. Our legs are touching because our stools are so close, and this entire time, even though we’ve been fighting over answers, she’s been very intimate with her touches. “Okay, now, this finale, it’s going to be worth all of the points. Are you going to argue with me or listen?”

“How about we have a healthy conversation over each answer? What if it’s about baseball, and you don’t know the answer?”

“If it’s about baseball, you can write whatever you want.” She pops a fry in her mouth.

“Aren’t you generous?” I note.

“Very.” She lifts a fry to my mouth, and I take a bite of it. “You know, this table of girls behind you has been staring at your back this entire time.”

I don’t turn to look at them. Instead, I keep my eyes on her. “Your point?”

“My point is you could go over there and make their dreams come true.”

“Probably, but they’re not who I want to talk to at the moment.”

She smirks. “You flirting, Bisley?”

“Trying to pick up where we left off.”

“And where was that exactly?” She taps her chin playfully.

“You don’t remember? Oh, let me help. I think you were about to send me naked pictures . . .”

She tips her head back and laughs. “Is that how we left things? Hmm, I think I recall it a bit differently. I was owning you in foosball, just like I’m owning you in trivia. And then you took off for a flight.”

“Hmm, I remember it differently.”

“I’m sure you do.” She rests her chin on her hand. “Tell me, Bisley, have you been seeing anyone?”

“No,” I answer.

“Fucking anyone?”

Wanting to be transparent, I say, “Not recently, but yeah, I’ve fooled around with a few women.”

“Anyone good?”

I shrug because no one truly blew my mind. It was just sex, nothing spectacular.

“Well, that’s sad. A man like you.” She moves her hand higher up my thigh. “All these muscles, you would think you’d be having ravenous sex every night.”