Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 149510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
“Fifty bucks gets you in the game. Every table starts with five players, and you play until you’re out.”
Blake raises his hand, and I have to cover my mouth to smother a smile as an annoyed Lexi calls on him. “Yes?”
“What do we do when we’re out?”
“Go home,” she suggests. He smiles, the masochist. I swear, he loves getting owned by her.
Ace clears his throat at the two of us, whispering to Blake as Lexi shakes her head and looks back at her notes. “You have some kind of loser fetish or something? Like, is that what happens when you’re as successful at something as you are?”
Blake waves him off, shushing him and pointing up at Lexi. His instructions are clear: Listen to the love of my life.
Ace and I share a bemused shake of our heads.
“We’ll combine tables as people lose their asses. Only six people will make it to the final table,” Lexi continues, oblivious to Blake all over again, even though he’s staring at her like a serial killer. If the bastard trades in his souped-up Dodge Charger for a white economy van, we should all be concerned.
“How many people win the pot?” a guy from the back yells out.
“Only one,” Lexi answers. “Winner takes all.”
“Hell yeah,” Ace comments and claps a hand on my shoulder, cocky. “They don’t call me Ace for nothing.”
I glance over at him. “Let me guess…you were playing Hold’em in the womb?”
“Pretty much. When my mom was pregnant with me, she loved crashing my dad’s poker nights. She beat him and his friends so many times, they blackballed her.”
“Give your money to Connor, and he’ll tell you which table to sit at!” Lexi shouts over the crowd that’s started chatting among themselves again. “Good luck!”
“What’d we miss?”
Ace, Blake, and I turn around to find Julia and Scottie standing behind us.
Fresh-faced and in a pair of tight jeans and a cream sweater, she looks fucking beautiful. Her dark locks hang down her back in a way that reminds me of Halloween, when she came on my mouth. My fingers itch to run through her hair, and my mind tries to fill my head with memories of what Scottie Bardeaux sounds like, tastes like, feels like when she’s naked and chasing her pleasure.
And when our eyes lock unexpectedly, the contact shoves a dagger through my chest.
My realization is immediate.
She’s not the kind of girl you get over—ever.
Scottie
“The name of the game is Texas Hold’em, Jules.” Ace wraps his arm around Julia’s shoulders and sways her back and forth playfully. “Maybe you should just cut your losses now.”
“Get real, Acer.” She scoffs and shoves him away with an amused smile on her lips. “I’m going to own your ass.”
Both Ace and Blake laugh, but Finn and I are too busy trying not to look at each other to join in.
He’s beautiful, as always, and my entire body aches with the urge to pull him into a magic hug. Something with spells and potions and the power to end all the pain and suffering between us.
Ace pulls money out of his wallet for both himself and Julia, and Blake tries to convince Connor to let him buy in twice. Finn pulls out his wallet to take out money, but a tsunami of insanity comes over me that’s impossible to stop.
My fingers shake as I wrap them around his wrist and squeeze. Connor gets annoyed as Finn stops, turning to look at me.
“Are you in or out?”
My voice is a fraction of itself as I force the words out. “Finn, can I talk to you?”
Julia’s eyes are wide as Ace and Blake drag her away to their assigned table, and Finn’s jaw grinds.
“In or out, dude?” Connor prompts again, agitated even more.
Finn’s chest expands. “Out.”
My knees threaten to give out and take me to the floor, the relief is so strong. Day and night, I think about Finn and all the things I want to say. Day and night, I’ve dreamed about the chance to clear the air.
Day and night for three weeks. I’m exhausted.
My bottom lip quivers as Finn jerks his head away from the tables toward the depths of the rest of the basement. I follow him into both quiet and darkness, the sound of my breathing like a hyena at a funeral—completely giving me away.
We make a right into the Dickson Archives, a stacked section of dusty books that smell like they haven’t been touched in ages. Finn leans back against one of the shelves, crossing his arms over his chest, and I run my hands through my hair, trying to work up the courage to lay it all on the line.
The silence is almost unbearably heavy.
“I’m sorry,” I say, the apology splintering the anticipation like a bullet to the heart.
I can tell by the firm set of his jaw and the shine of his eyes, he’s right back in my room, naked and vulnerable and learning of my betrayal all over again, but I’m back there too. Hurting and desperate to make things right.