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“Who was the first bachelorette on the popular ABC franchise show?” The MC asks over the sound system in the room as Damien and I huddle together in our booth. And he instantly turns to face me, looking at me for the answer.
“What? You don’t know the answer to that question?”
“Forgive me for not watching that ridiculous show where people fall in love after four dates and then get engaged only to call it off three months later,” he replies sarcastically.
“Well, I mean, you’re not wrong. But I feel like I’m carrying our team right now.” I scribble down the name Trista Sutter on our paper and then drop the pencil on the table.
“Hey, I’ve answered all of the sports questions, haven’t I?”
“Not all of them. I knew a few things.”
Damien rolls his eyes. “Okay.”
I shove him from the side just as the MC reads the next question. “On the show Friends, how many times has Ross been divorced?”
Damien turns to me. “Two.”
“Nope, it’s three.”
“What? No, it’s two—Emily and Rachel.”
“What about Carol?” I counter, and his face falls.
“Fuck. You’re right.”
I cup my hand around my ear. “I’m sorry. What was that?”
“Nothing.” He takes a sip of his beer, avoiding my eyes even though there’s a smile on his lips.
“Oh, no. That was something. I believe you told me I was right.”
Leaning over toward me now, he brushes his nose with mine, and my skin tingles from the contact. “Don’t get used to it. But it’s good to know that my partner is pulling her weight.”
“I’ll be pulling something else in a few minutes if you don’t stop arguing with me.”
He chuckles. “You can pull my dick or balls, babe. Doesn’t matter to me. A gentle tug goes a long way.”
The MC calls out another question as we stare at each other. “What is the name of Chip and Joanna Gaines’s lifestyle brand?”
“Magnolia,” Damien answers with his eyes still locked on mine.
“Oh, dear. How did you know that?”
“Lots of HGTV, babe.” He takes a sip of his beer.
“You watch HGTV?”
He nods. “I feel like once you turn thirty or feel too old to go out every night anymore, you go from watching mindless reality television to home improvement shows. I can sit there and watch episodes of Fixer Upper for hours and have no idea what time it is when I finally decide to look at the clock.” I laugh in agreement. “And I will never understand how some of these people have the budgets they do. He’s a lion tamer, she writes raunchy romance novels in her spare time, but their budget is like 1.2 million dollars.”
I snort. “You’re not wrong. But also, you’re right. It is Magnolia.” I scribble down the answer on our form.
“Looks like I’m not the only one that can be right tonight.”
Shaking my head at him, I question why he looks so sexy in the low light above us as the MC fires off the last question. “Last question! What can be broken, but is never held?”
“Oh, is this one of those trick questions, huh?” I ask as I think for a moment, tapping my chin with my finger.
“A promise,” Damien answers simply as I turn to him.
“Are you sure?”
He nods. “Yup. My mother used to say that to me all the time to remind me that you can hurt people emotionally more than you ever can physically.”
His comment has my face scrunching up in thought. “What do you mean?”
Damien opens his mouth to reply, but then one of the servers comes around to gather our answer sheets. I hand her the paper as Damien drains the last of his beer. “Let’s just say, I know a thing or two about people breaking promises.”
“How so?”
He stares at me before replying, “Well, for instance, I broke one that I made to you.”
My heart rate starts to pick up. “What? When?”
“Alright, we have a winner, ladies and gentlemen!” The MC announces, cutting Damien off just as he reaches below the table and squeezes my thigh, resting his palm there. “In third place are Becca and Robby.” A round of applause rings out. “In second place are Liz and Shawn.” Another round of applause. “And in first, the winners of the fifty-dollar gift card to The York and bragging rights are…” He pauses for effect. “Damien and Charlotte!”
“Fuck yeah!” Damien pumps his fist in the air and then turns to me and kisses me hard, kickstarting my heart. “See? We do make a good team, Char.”
I smile at him, running my nails through his soft beard. “Yeah. I guess we do.”
* * *
