The backyard buzzed with energy—grill smoke curling into the sky, laughter cutting through music, and beer bottles clinking like background percussion. Avery and Frankie had carved out a shady spot by the edge of the yard, both lounging with drinks in hand.
“Okay,” Frankie began, tilting her sunglasses down just enough to give Avery a once-over, “how’s the king of the club doing after that little tequila-fueled gem you dropped?”
Avery raised a brow. “What gem?”
Frankie grinned slowly, devilishly.
“‘If that happens, he better f**k me so good I can’t walk…’” she quoted with her best dramatic flair. “Honey, the moment those words left your mouth, the entire damn compound lit up like it was fight night.”
Avery groaned. “It was hypothetical! A joke.”
Frankie cackled. “Oh no, baby. That wa
