Still eating, Foreman followed Amber with his eyes as she got up from the table. "Uh-huh," he said, skeptical and complacent. Until Amber was actually winning, Foreman wasn't going to believe it. He'd been playing since he was a kid, in leagues and school teams, and recreationally since college. Amber hadn't even mentioned basketball before. His experience would probably have him dribbling circles around her. Going for an easy layup was usually preferable to the beginner's usual mistake of trying for showy shots, and most of the game was about footwork, the kind of thing you only learned through repeated, drilled-in practice. Hell, maybe he'd take it easy on her, just to start, until he knew where they stood.

He nearly choked when Amber threw an arm around his neck. Fortunately he'd already swallowed, and he'd just put down his coffee mug. Her voice, mock-threatening in his ear, jostled a laugh from him. "You're in trouble now," he said. He wasn't going to get out of her headlock without doing some serious damage either to himself or to Amber's dining table. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that he could twist around, grab her, and haul her on to his lap, but that plan ended with eggs and coffee everywhere. Probably not the best outcome. But that wasn't the only way he could get to her. Reaching around behind his chair with one arm, Foreman was just able to run his hand teasingly up the back of Amber's leg, dip between her thighs, and squeeze her ass. "Now that I know I'm playing with a sneak."