Page 132 of Under Pressure

“I do,” I state, resting our hands on my thigh. “I’m not great, but I’m still better than Finn.”

It’s Brielle who answers. “Doubtful. I remember the game we all played a couple of years back. You struck out six times in a row.”

“You play games together?” Quinn asks.

Aubrey looks her way. “We haven’t in a long time, actually. Maybe we should set something up.”

Quinn nods in agreement and reaches for the specialty drink in her cup holder. It’s the first night the black cherry slush, Beck’s Blank Page, is available. Unlike Kellan’s Crush, you can only get one of mine after the seventh inning. The marketing team had a bit too much fun planning this. Once I gave them the name and flavour, they exploded with different ideas.

The straw fits between her lips as she sips, and I can’t take my eyes away. Her mouth is stained a deep red when she sets the cup back down and licks her lips. I’m quick to pull her in for a kiss before she can get all the slush. Sweetness bursts on my tongue, turning me inside out. If we were alone, she’d have already been in my lap.

“You’re supposed to be hiding behind your disguise tonight, not drawing attention,” Brielle warns, her amusement obvious.

The reminder pulls Quinn from me before I was finished kissing her. She rolls her eyes at my deep frown.

“You can kiss me plenty once the game is over. It’s a surprise you’ve gone this long without someone hopping over the seats for an autograph. Don’t push your luck”

“I still think you should have used the stick-on mustache,” Aubrey adds.

Brielle jabs her fork into the poutine the three of them have been sharing this inning. “Or just not shaved your face. I was getting used to the whole woolly mammoth look.”

“It was starting to freak me out, actually. He stepped out of the bathroom last night, and with all the lights off, I thought he was a random man,” Quinn says, running the tip of a rounded nail across my naked jaw.

Shaving was the right call. She liked the beard at first, but I could tell that it was starting to irritate her thighs from how often I like to have my head between them. If there’s one thing I won’t stand for, it’s being starved of my favourite meal.

Aubrey looks down the row at us and nods. “Yeah, I’ll admit it was freaking me out, too.”

“Coming from the woman dating Finn,” I retort.

“The only hair he keeps on his face is above his lip. And he looks fucking incredible with a mustache.”

“Roman prefers being clean-shaven, too,” Brielle says, offering me a supportive wink.

Quinn laughs and steals the poutine. The first bite she’d taken after I went to the concession was followed by the sexiest little moan. Obviously, I was right to suggest she ditch the stadium dog for fries, cheese curds, and thick gravy. I’ve been smug ever since.

Aubrey huffs. “You betray me so easily, Elle.”

“Hey, you’re right about Finn rocking the stache. I’m in full support of it.”

“Me too,” Quinn agrees.

I narrow my eyes on her. “You think Finn’s good-looking?”

“Oh, here we go,” Brielle sings, patting Quinn’s arm. “Good luck.”

My girl laughs, brushing off my jealousy with a kiss on my jaw. “You know I think you’re hot. There’s no need to search for compliments.”

“Just hot?”

“And sexy, and ripped, not to mention sweet.” She drops her voice and brings her mouth to my ear. “And really, really good in bed.”

My cock hardens in a blink. “That’s right, baby. You’re mine.”

“But I’m still annoyed that you named a stadium drink after me when I haven’t had a chance to finish grovelling.”

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” I growl, yanking her hand back to my lips. It’s the only way to distract myself from yanking her out of her seat and into mine. “It was supposed to be a grand gesture. You were meant to swoon and declare that I’m the sweetest, most thoughtful man alive.”

“You are, but you’re also a pain in my ass.”