"You got Superbowl plans?" They were packing up, getting ready to leave the office.
She shook her head. "Nope."
"You should come over," he said, "that is, assuming that you're a Seahawks fan."
She laughed. "No, not getting involved in that, but I might come over…"
"What?" he laughed. "You're not going to be cheering with me? Or betting something insane against me?"
They took off down the hall and out of the office, as she replied. "The Colts should be playing."
"They lost. By a lot."
"Yeah, but the Patriots cheated."
"It wouldn't have mattered! The Colts suck. Andrew Luck is no Peyton Manning."
She shook her head at him. "Uh uh. Too much controversy. And Luck isn't that bad at all."
"So you'll have to cheer on the Seahawks with me."
She chuckled. "No no no. You'd get too much pleasure out of that."
"So you're a Patriots fan now."
She rolled her eyes. "No."
He groans. This isn't as fun as he'd hoped.
"I'll give you this. I'll bet that someone from the Seahawks accuses the Patriots of cheating by at least halftime."
He raised his eyebrows at her and leans against his car. "Yeah, okay. What's in it for me?"
"If I lose, I'll wear nothing but one of your old shirts to bed for a week."
He shook his finger at her. "Nuh uh. You already do that."
"I wear your shirt, AND panties."
He realized her implication, and he smirked.
"Hey, hold up. What do I get out of this?"
"If I lose, I'll wear nothing to bed for a week."
Her eyes narrow and she tries not to get turned on, but damn. Damn.
Either way, that's going to be a very, very good week