There’s a beat of silence.
Cam nods solemnly. “And he’s not even joking.”
“Possessive, much?” Jack tries to laugh it off, but there’s a nervous edge to it now. He quickly turns back to the table. “Right, okay, enough of that. Time for the pairings.”
“Emilia’s on my team,” Liam says instantly, before anyone even opens their mouth.
“Since when was I getting into this?” I splutter. I had fully planned to drag Cam away, start our own barbecue corner, and gossip about Confidential Family being three episodes away from the finale. (Cam being a closeted Confidential Family girlie is still the best thing Tessa‘ s ever told me. Top tier news. Nobel–worthy.) All I needed was Liam to get distracted enough by the game so I could make my escape.
But apparently, escape is off the table.
Liam’s lower lip juts out in a pout, like I’m the villain here. “Why do you think I bragged so much? You’re my secret weapon. You can’t abandon ship now.”
I blink. “Secret weapon? Liam, I’ve never played beer pong in my life. My hand–eye coordination is strictly reserved for mascara wands and Spotify shuffle.”
He grins, like this is all going to plan. “Exactly. That’s what makes you dangerous. No one will see you coming.”
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Cam claps me on the shoulder, and the playful spark is back in his eyes – because of me. Because I’m the undeserved recipient of his revenge. Fantastic. “You gotta learn to take one for the team, Em.”
Liam grinning smugly beside me as if he hasn’t just signed me up for torture. The punishment? Shot after shot of whatever questionable concoction this guy came up with. It’s so evil I don’t even want to know the ingredients.
“Focus, baby,” Liam murmurs in my ear, his breath warm against my cheek, as if beer pong is a life–or–death operation. “All in the wrist.”
That’s how I end up playing this tormented version of beer pong, where the punishment is simply too cruel for me to even think of not having the perfect aim.
The teams are decided before I even know what’s happening: me and Liam versus Jack and Cam. A ridiculous combo if you ask me, but no one asked me, so here we are.
Jesper spreads his arms wide like some referee about to officiate the Olympics. “Okay, everyone knows the drill. Ten cups, pyramid, center of the table. Only, tonight it’s not beer.” He lifts a shot glass filled with the suspicious neon liquid Cam whipped up earlier. “It’s Cam’s Delight.”
The table groans.
Cam beams, positively glowing now. “Don’t all look so excited at once,”
Jesper smirks, swirling the cup in his hand. “Rules are simple. Land your shot, the other team drinks the cup. Miss your shot, you drink two shots of Cam’s Delight. And remember-” he lifts a finger like a stern teacher-“if you can’t finish both shots in one gulp, you’re penalized
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with another one. Got it?”
A collective groan answers.
“Got it,” Liam says flatly, already lining me up next to him. His hand stays possessively hooked at my waist. “Me and Emilia versus… you two clowns.” He jerks his chin at Cam and Jack.
“Clowns?” Cam says, affronted. “Bold of you to assume Emilia isn’t gonna carry this whole game.”
“I know she will,” Liam says without missing a beat. His grin is smug enough to knock me sideways.
I swat his chest. “Stop setting me up.”
He just shrugs, eyes sharp like he’s already decided the outcome. “I’m not, you’ll see.”
The first round begins.
Jack takes the first shot for their team, squinting down the length of the table like he’s aiming a sniper rifle. The ball bounces once, clinks against the rim… and drops cleanly into one of our cups.
The table erupts in cheers.
“Drink up!” Jack crows.
Liam groans, grabs the cup, and downs it in one go, not even flinching. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, already reaching for the next ball. “Fluke,” he mutters.
“My turn,” I say, nerves fluttering as I pick up the ping pong ball. Everyone’s eyes are on me–Liam’s especially, his gaze searing into the side of my face.
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“Just picture Confidential Family’s finale slipping away if you miss,” Cam stage–whispers, wicked.
“Don’t listen to him,” Liam says firmly, leaning down close enough that his lips brush the shell of my car. “Just focus. You’ve got this, Em.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I roll my eyes to cover it up. With a breath, I throw. The ball ares, teeters on the edge of their cup–then
sinks in.
The crowd loses it.
“Yes!” Liam scoops me up off the ground like we’ve just won the Stanley Cup. “I knew it! That’s my girl!”
Meanwhile, Cam chokes down the liquid like it’s battery acid. His face contorts. “This is evil,” he manages to croak, slamming the empty glass on the table.
“Hey,” Jack says through laughter, “you’re the one who brewed it!”
“Not this batch!” Cam argues, wiping his mouth. “This one tastes like… like betrayal and floor cleaner.”
Round after round, the game builds. Jack nails another shot, Liam retaliates with one of his own. Every time I sink a ball, Liam goes ballistic–lifting me, spinning me, shouting like it’s a goal in overtime. Every time I miss, Cam gleefully shoves the two shots my way, and I struggle to swallow them both in one gulp before the table chants “Penalty! Penalty!”
The liquid burns worse every round, and my laughter mixes with a low–level dread in my stomach. Liam downs his without hesitation, like it’s water, though I see the slight twitch in his jaw that tells me he‘
s not immune either.
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By the seventh round, we’re tied. Three cups left each.
“Sudden death territory,” Jack announces, his words slightly slurred
now.
Cam leans on the table, eyes narrowed. “This is war.”
Liam hooks an arm around me again, pulling me close like a battle partner. His forehead presses briefly to mine. “You ready?”
“Barely,” I admit. “But I’m not letting them win.”
“That’s my girl,” he whispers again, low and fierce, before stepping back so I can take the next shot.
The ball leaves my fingers-
And that’s where the tension hangs, the whole room waiting to see if I land it or if Cam’s Delight claims another victim.
Chapter 209
