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“Good.” I bring my attention back to the bar and watch the bartender as he makes my drink.

A space opens up, and Ben slides in, next to me. “You know. I could have gotten you a drink.”

“I know.” I turn to face him. “I just need to watch them make it. I have this weird thing with not seeing what’s being put in my drinks.”

“Afraid they’ll underpour?” he chuckles.

I shrug. “Just can’t trust people nowadays. Never know who might slip something in there without you knowing. A few months ago, I was out. Had one drink. That’s all I remember. Thankfully, a Good Samaritan got me home. Lesson learned: always watch the bartender make your drinks and never leave them unattended.”

His brows crease, not happy at what I just shared. Thankfully, he doesn’t make a big deal out of it. “Okay. I get that.” The bartender puts our drinks in front of us, and Ben beats me to pay, throwing a twenty-dollar bill down.

“Friends buy friends drinks.” He grabs both and hands me mine. “But once we get back to the table, we’re enemies.”

“Like the good ol’ days,” I chirp.

“Hey now, some pretty amazing things happened when we were enemies.” He winks. He doesn’t have to say it for me to know what he’s talking about. The night I stormed over to his place, and we ended up having the hottest hate-sex imaginable.

“Amazing, huh? I hardly remember. Nothing really worthy of remembering if you ask me.”

“Now,thoseare fightin’ words. If you need me to make you remember, we can always—”

“You’re back!” Jenny pops up and steps in front of Ben, cutting off the rest of his sentence.

“Yep. Sure am.” She latches onto his bicep and brings him to his seat.

“I don’t know too much about baseball. Maybe you can teach me?”

My shoulders slump, but I mask my annoyance and take my seat on the other side of Ben. I sip my drink and try to ignore their small talk. He’s being friendly with her. Maybe heisinto her.

I cuss under my breath as my first batter strikes out.

Ben’s hand disappears under the table, skating along my thigh. He leans in and whispers, “Calm down, sweetheart. It’s still early, but if you want to accept defeat now, we can get to the good part, and I’ll let you know what my prize is.”

“Fat chance.” My breathing becomes hitched. His hand burns a hole through my jeans. Without bringing attention to himself, he slides it up my thigh. “Sounds more like torture than a prize,” I croak out.

“Strike two,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb against my skin.Strike who?I take a sip of my drink, the chill of the liquid doing nothing to put out the fire inside me. “Strike three. Oops.” He removes his hand and claps. “Let’s get this inning over with.”

The second batter strikes out.

It takes me until the third batter to find my bearings again.

“And that’s strike—”

“Yes!” I scream as he slams the ball into the outfield, getting a triple. “What were you saying?” I bump him with my shoulder. Batter four and five get on base, and the sixth strikes out, ending the inning. “One-zero start. I’ll take it.” I stand, brushing up against Ben in the process. “Getting a drink. Anyone need one?”

Jenny raises her hand. “I’ll take one of what Ben’s having. Want another one?” she asks him.

“I’ll come with you,” he says. “Don’t trust those bartenders sometimes.” He winks at me and stands. From over his shoulder, I spot Jenny’s frown.

“I’m a big girl. I can manage going to the bar by myself.”

“And miss the opportunity to mess with you? Never.” I head back to the bar and wave my hand again to get the bartender’s attention. Ben slides up next to me. “I think you and I have different opinions on how that night went.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to hold in my laughter. “I can’t recall. I mean, I’ve had more exciting root canals—”

“Don’t even say it.” He reaches around my waist and tugs me toward him. Our bodies crash together. “You wound me with your lies.”

“What makes you think I’m lying?” I ask breathlessly.

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