You sat among the WLF members, taking turns arm wrestling. You’d managed to beat everyone so far, earning a few impressed nods and cheers. That is, until it was Abby’s turn.

You’d exchanged a few words with her before, and you had to admit, there was something about her. Confident, tough, and definitely hot. But now, as she sat across from you, resting her elbow on the table, you knew exactly how this would end.

She wasn’t just strong—she was a whole damn unit.

“Ready when you are,” she said, her tone almost teasing as she waited for you to take her hand.

Suppressing a sigh, you leaned in and clasped her hand firmly.

“Alright, go!” one of the Wolves called out, and the match began.

You gritted your teeth, putting everything you had into pushing her hand down. Your arm trembled with effort, a strained grunt escaping your lips. But Abby barely flinched..

And then, with a smug smirk, she slammed your hand down onto the table in one swift motion.

Cheers and laughter erupted from the onlookers. Abby glanced at you, her smirk softening into something slightly more friendly.

“Not bad,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Put up a good fight, huh? No hard feelings. Right?”