Page 45 of Villainous Summer

She smiled at me, then sipped her drink as feedback from a microphone shrieked.

A thin man in a terrible hunter-green fedora stood in the DJ booth. “Hello, beardos and weirdos. Welcome to Trivia Masters. I’m your host, Dr. Factoids. Get your teams together, and we’ll be starting momentarily.”

Summer’s head snapped toward me with a gleam in her eyes. “Trivia! I fucking love trivia. I’m going to dominate.”

“Is that so?” I raised a challenging brow.

Our team was in the lead with four points. We scored double on a question about the largest archipelago in the world but then lost when we couldn’t define alektorophobia.

For the last hour and a half, I had successfully not pawed at Summer like some horny teen. Despite how cute she looked when she would furrow a brow as she struggled to answer a question. And the smile when she was correct? Words escaped me. The sunshine and confidence in it.

She blurted answers when she knew them and didn’t hesitate to debate with the rest of the team, who she had just met. When she couldn’t contribute, she sat back and let others take over.

For an entire one hundred and seven minutes, I kept my hands to myself.

The hardest moment was when she insisted we take a picture together, angling her body into mine. Her lush curves fit perfectly against me as she smiled at the camera. When she pulled away, I had to clench my hands into fists to stop them from lacing around her waist and pulling her off her stool and onto my lap.

My phone lit up with a notification that she had tagged me.

It was down to the final question. Only two points were separating our team, the CasaNopas, and The Little Lebowski Urban Achievers.

Eldon had said the L.L.U.A. won the last three months in a row and was getting smug.

On the mic, Dr. Factoid played a drumroll clip. “Aaaaaaand for the last question of the night. For a whopping eight points, according to IMDB, what is the highest-rated episode of political drama, The West Wing?”

The rest of the table glanced around with trepidation.

Some of the show’s staff were likely born in the years after the show premiered.

“Two Cathedrals,” Summer and I say in unison, then glance at each other.

“How—” I shook my head.

Nothing about this woman would surprise me, but it didn’t include her knowledge of my fast-talking comfort show.

Since half of the table hadn’t even heard of the show, Eldon wrote the answer down, reporting to the DJ.

We waited as Dr. Factoid announced our team as the winner of a twenty-five-dollar bar gift card.

Cheers and high-fives abounded as we celebrated our victory.

Our rival team shot us dirty looks, and one woman on the team hissed expletives at a man beside her with narrowed eyes.

Summer wrapped her arms around my waist.

With one arm over her shoulders, I squeezed her slightly.

Tingles shot up my arm, and I fought the urge to keep her tight against me. To claim her in front of this group.

I pulled away, a casual smile on my face.

I couldn’t let my dick get me in trouble here.

A line formed between her brows as she pulled away, but she said nothing, high-fiving the team as if they had fought a hard battle for years.

Eldon leaned in close to me, a wide grin stretching his freckled, tanned cheeks. “You need to bring her every time. She’s an absolute menace.”

After slapping my back, he stepped away, giving double high-fives to Savvy, who had her arm around Summer’s waist as they congratulated each other.

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