The Probability of Violet & Luke (The Coincidence #4)(12)

It used to be so much easier to do this, float around in life, detached from everyone, including myself. But that was before I met Luke and discovered what it was like to be happy. And the worst part of it is knowing I’ll never have it again.

Chapter 4
Luke

I’m in deep shit but I’m still trying to figure out if I care. Some pop song plays from the surround sound, empty glasses cover the table, and I’ve doubled my money, mainly because I’m cheating and very carelessly too. I should probably be more cautious, but I continue to ride high, drinking shot after shot with a curvy brunette on my lap. I’ve gotten everything I was looking for when I came here and I feel good for the most part, except for that goddamn spot in my heart that’s screaming at me to stop. That there’s something better than this out there for me. But what my f*cking heart doesn’t get is that she doesn’t want me.

There are three other guys sitting at the table—Geraldson, the owner of the house, a big bulky dude—and the other two about the same height and weight as me—Carson and I think Dougford, who doesn’t trust me. They’re older and rougher than the usual crowd I play with. I think I even saw a gun tucked into the back of Geraldson’s pants when I walked up to the table. Toverson is out on the back deck, talking to someone on the cellphone, but keeps glancing through the door in my direction, giving me a look of warning.

“You in or out?” Carson asks, fanning through his chips as he tries to read my bluff.

I glance down at the eight of hearts and queen of spades in my hand and then at the four cards on the table; a five, seven, nine, and a jack. I’m about to fold, but then the brunette slants forward and presses her tits against my chin, giving me a face full of cleavage.

“Just go for it,” she whispers in my ear, tickling her finger up and down the back of my neck. “It’s so hot when guys are risky like that.”

I’m about to tell her to f*ck off, reach into my pocket and take out one of the cards I have hidden in there, but Dougford is watching my every move from across the table, so I toss the chips in, figuring I’ll lose one hand to make my wins look more legit. “I’m in.” I say, being cocky for no goddamn reason.

Carson gives me an arrogant grin in return, but I think he’s pretending he’s got something when he doesn’t. I relax back in the chair and grope the brunette’s hips while the dealer flips over the river card. It’s a two. Shit. I have absolutely nothing. Normally, I’d fold or switch my cards, but I remind myself to lose a hand and match the bet.

He grins like a prick as he lays his cards down and reveals that he has a pair of queens. I know the odds of that are pretty low, making me think that he might be cheating so I decide no more cautious playing—I’m cheating with every hand that I can from now on.

It takes a lot not to shove the brunette off my lap and lean over and punch the grin off his face. To calm myself down, I pour myself another shot from the Tequila bottle on the table. I barely feel the burn anymore—barely feel anything at all.

It’s Geraldson’s turn to deal so he collects the cards while Dougford takes out a couple of cigars from a wooden box that’s beside him. He smells one of them, then gives Geraldson and Carson each one.

“You smoke?” he asks me in his raspy voice.

I shrug and take the cigar he’s offering, figuring it might keep me content until I can step outside to have a smoke. People are so weird sometimes. No smoking cigarettes in the house, but cigars are perfectly okay.

I light up and inhale, but it’s not enough to soothe the hunger inside me, so I end up putting it out in the ashtray after three puffs.

“What? Not good enough for you?” Carson asks, separating his chips in to color coordinated piles.

I reach for the cards Gerard dealt me. “No, it’s just not what I usually smoke.” My tension starts to unravel when I see the ace in my hand. I’ve been waiting for the damn ace to show up so I could use the one I have up my sleeve. Pocket aces.

I’m trying not to grin as I get ready for the game to get going, when the front door swings open and a guy around my age wearing preppy clothes and a cocky smile walks into the room.

“Roy, man. What’s up?” Geraldson says, setting his cards face down on the table as he gets up from his chair to give the guy a one-handed hug.

“Not much,” Roy says as he steps aside to let someone else in that’s behind him and suddenly every single movement and noise around me fades.

Violet, f*cking, Hayes.

She looks way too amazing, dressed in a short black dress that shows off her endless legs and the heels… god damn what I would do to f*ck her with just those heels on. I’m seriously getting a hard on just thinking about it, which would be fine except the brunette on my lap must feel it pressing against her ass and she gets this look in her eyes like she thinks it’s from her and is considering acting on it. Suddenly I’m very aware that she’s on my lap. Through the fogginess in my mind, I debate whether I care or not. Violet and I are over. I shouldn’t care, but I do. I care so much that I hurry and push the brunette off of my lap, before Violet sees me.

But I move to late and her eyes find me like magnets and I’m metal just as I’m shoving the woman off. There’s a flash of jealousy in Violet’s eyes as she glares at the woman who’s gripping my shoulders to get her balance, and as disturbing as it is, I f*cking love the sight of it in her eyes. That she still cares enough to get jealous.