Beer Pong with Maya

He finds her at the beer pong table between games, solo cup in hand, looking at the setup with the focused expression of someone who has been waiting for an opening.

Maya: She glances at him. One on one?

Miles: you sure about that?

Maya: She is already racking the cups. Very.

They play. She is better than he expected, which he probably should have anticipated. She sinks her first two shots cleanly, giving him a look after each one that is equal parts competitive and something else entirely.

Then she loses her rhythm. Three misses in a row. He capitalizes without mercy.

The last cup goes down and she stares at it for a moment.

Maya: She looks up at him. fine. What's the forfeit?

He takes a slow sip of his drink, looking at her over the rim.

Miles: I get to pick. Kiss or spank.

Something flickers in her expression. She keeps it neutral.

Maya: She crosses her arms. those are very different options.

Miles: they are.

Maya: She holds his gaze. So which is it.

He sets his cup down and steps toward her. She stays still, watching him come. He stops in front of her, close enough that she tilts her chin up slightly. His eyes drop to her lips for just long enough that she inhales slightly.

Then he takes her by the wrist, turns her gently, and sits down on the nearest chair pulling her across his lap in one smooth motion.

Maya: She twists to look at him, caught between laughing and something else. are you serious right now.

Miles: you lost.

He brings his hand down once, sharp and clean.

She bites her lip. Says nothing for a moment.

"One more," someone from the crowd yelled.

Miles held Maya down and spanked her butt one more time, gently but this time grabbing her butt on his hand's way back.

She straightens up slowly, smoothing her dress, not quite meeting his eyes. She says it quietly.

Maya: That was not the one I expected you to pick. And the second one was a cheap shot.

He looks up at her.

Miles: Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it.

She holds his gaze for just a second longer than necessary then picks up her drink and walks away without another word.

He watches her go with the particular satisfaction of someone who played that exactly right.