Mended (Connections, #3)(38)

“Cold?” I ask, wishing I could drape my body over hers and warm her up.

Flushing, she rubs her arms. “Yes, I am. I’ll be right back. I’m going to get a sweater.” At least I didn’t get the finger.

She stands up and I watch her step across the room and then disappear through the doorway. A few minutes later she’s back with a sweater wrapped around her and when she sits down, I can smell her sweet scent in the air.

Nix shuffles the cards around Phoebe like he’s a dealer in Vegas.

“You smell good,” I mumble in her direction.

Her cheeks turn pink again and I just smirk at her. I know she sprayed some kind of perfume on when she grabbed her sweater.

Nix continues to shuffle the cards and his eyes dart to Garrett. “You in or out?”

“In,” he says with a scowl, and adds, “But if I lose this one, I’m done, busted, broke, annihilated. Do I need to go on?”

“Whatever, dude, just stop whining and ante up. You’re holding up the game.”

Garrett throws his picks in the middle of the table, and Nix sets the deck down next to Ivy. She cuts it and finally he deals. She gets the first card, since she is to Nix’s immediate left. I get mine next. I stare at the two cards beside each other on the table and try to block memories of playing this game alone with her years ago in my grandparents’ pool house. We didn’t play for money, though—we played for clothes. I’m sure she remembers. Once the cards are dealt, she leans a little my way and I can smell that fresh, soapy scent even more. I get lost in it and those memories come flooding back.

“Xander, snap out of it. What are you doing?” Nix calls me out.

I blink, realizing I haven’t even looked at the cards in my hand. “I’ll raise,” I say, tossing four picks in the middle.

Everyone starts laughing except Ivy. She leans toward me and whispers in my ear. “I checked.”

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.

Her body stiffens and she sits back in her chair.

I turn my attention to the guys. “So I’m tired. Give me a f*cking break. I meant to say I’d open. Either way, see it or fold, *s.”

Needless to say, the first hand ends with me losing. As the game continues, Garrett’s luck seems to have changed. He’s raking it in. About two hours later, the room’s a little fuzzy and if Ivy moves any closer to me I think I’m going to lose it in my pants right here. Shit, I have to get my dick under control.

“Last hand of the night,” Nix calls and deals the cards.

Nix makes his way around the table, but Leif tosses his hand down. “I fold.”

Garrett lights the tip of his cigar again and inhales before showing us his cards. “Call it a straight, baby, all the way,” he boasts.

Ivy smiles and lays her cards flat but upside down. “I fold too.”

“I’m out of this f*cking game,” Nix calls out, running his fingers down Phoebe’s bare arms.

I look at the cards in my hand. Rubbing my nails on my chest, then blowing on my cards, I grin. “Four of a kind. Pay up, buddy.” I slowly fan my cards out. Garrett’s face falls like the cigar he’s stubbing out.

“What the f*ck, Ivy?” he blurts out.

Everyone looks her way and back at Garrett, who has his hands up in surrender, grinning ear to ear. Nix gestures Phoebe off his lap and Garrett’s up and running. Leif and Nix fly after him.

Ivy quickly pushes the scattered cards on the table into a pile. Her cheeks are bright red. She’s so busted. Here I’m thinking she wants to be close to me. That she doesn’t even know she’s driving me nuts when in actuality she’s signaling my cards to Garrett. I glare down toward the floor and spot a number of cards under the table. Looking back up at her, I say, “Ivy?”

She glances up at the sound of her name but quickly averts her gaze. Bending under the table, I pick up the cards and slide them to her with a smirk on my face. Her fierce eyes catch mine and they are cautious, focused, nervous even, as her stare tries to break mine. I notice that the color in her eyes is more liquid blue than gray today. Beautiful. It’s inviting me, calling my name, so I don’t look away. Instead I keep her pegged and stand up to hover over her. Her breathing picks up speed the closer I lean in, and I’m well aware of the attraction between us.

With no one around to pay any attention to us, I corner her and cage her with my arms. She’s waiting for me to look into her face, but I cut my eyes away. Our faces are close and our bodies are like magnets, drawn to each other. I finally fix my attention on her. A piece of hair has fallen in her eyes and I push it aside. Tucking it behind her ear, I whisper, “Ivy.”

She murmurs something I can’t understand, then closes her eyes. I swallow, my mouth dry. I want to ask her what she said. I want to tell her to open her eyes and look at me. I consider kissing her—I’m pretty sure she’d let me, but I don’t. Instead I get close enough that her breath passes over my skin like a caress. I let my pants rub against her stomach and a small sigh escapes her throat. When I’m as close as I can be without actually lying on top of her, I whisper in her ear, “Who would have thought?”

I’m not sure why I chose to call her out, but when she pushes me away and runs out of the room, I really wished I had kissed her.

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