Fair Game (The Rules #1)(5)

“What sort of ungodly amount?” Joel asks, never missing a beat.

I ignore his question. “And if I win…I get your girl.”

“Joel, if you agree to this *’s stupid bet, I will kick you in the nuts so hard, you will never have children. And that’s a promise,” Jade threatens, her voice like ice.

Hell, even my nuts shriveled up a little at her words.

“It’s a sure thing,” he says, never once looking at her. “Don’t worry about it. What sort of ungodly amount are you talking about, Shep?”

The kid wants money. No problem. I can more than deliver. “Fifty.”

He rolls his eyes. “Big f*cking deal.”

“Thousand,” I add, and those rolling eyes are now bugging out of his head.

Low murmurs erupt from the observers watching the game, startling me. I forgot they were there. Glancing up, I see Gabe standing near the doorway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of him and an amused expression on his face. He loves this shit as much as I do, maybe even more so. He gives me one of those shit-eating grins of his and I nod once before I resume my focus on Joel.

“What do you say?” I ask nonchalantly, clutching the cards in my hand. I could win this. Not much else can beat four queens, unless the schmuck has four kings or four aces. What are the odds though? Really?

They’re in my favor. They have to be.

“I’m not up for barter, you *s,” Jade spits out, her voice laced with venom. “I don’t know who the hell either of you think you are, but you just can’t bet on me. I’m a freaking human being.” She pauses. I’m guessing she’s realizing her words are having little effect on either of us. “What would you do with me anyway if you won?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I slide my gaze over her, imagining the many ways I could have her if she was mine. Though it would be brief. I don’t keep girls, never have. Girlfriends want too much. Have high expectations that I can never, ever deliver. I don’t even want to deliver, because women? They are demanding as f*ck.

And this one I know would give me nothing but endless shit.

“I hate you,” she whispers, shooting daggers at me with her…hmm. Hazel eyes? Yeah, they’re a mix of colors, green and gray and a hint of brown, so I’m calling her eyes hazel. “Don’t think I won’t stomp on your balls if you go through with this, because I so will.”

“Maybe I like that sort of kink,” I say, sitting up straight. “So what’ll it be, Joel? You in?”

“I’m f*cking definitely in!” He shouts, then high fives the jackass who’s sitting behind him.

“All right then. An extra fifty-k if you win, Jade Bitch Face if I win.” I throw a hundred dollar chip into the center of the table, adding it to the pot as a goodwill gesture. “Call.”

“Here you go.” The smugness in Joel’s voice is unmistakable. “Read ‘em and weep.” He spreads his cards out in front of him. Three aces and two kings.

A f*cking nice hand for sure.

“A full house,” I murmur, keeping my voice even while deep inside, I’m ready to offer up my own triumphant shout. Hot damn, I’ve got this f*cker. “Aces and kings high.”

“Fuck yeah, dude.” Joel starts to reach for the pile of chips, coins and dollar bills, looking like a greedy kid who just busted the piñata and has no plans on sharing any of the candy that fell from it.

“Hold it.” Joel pauses in his gathering. “I haven’t showed my hand yet. There’s a protocol to this procedure you know.”

“Right, right, dude. Go for it.” He releases his hold on the pile of winnings, though his greedy gaze never strays from it. He’s not even looking at his girl, who just happens to be staring at me. She hates my guts. I can feel the waves of anger coming at me, heavier and heavier as each minute passes.

She’s really going to hate me when I share my cards.

“Ready?” I cock a brow, drawing out the suspense. I’m relishing this moment because it’s going to be a good one. There’s a vibration beneath my skin, a buzzing that grows and grows until it’s a dull roar in my ears and I blow out a long exhale, crinkle the cards between my fingers before I slowly drop them onto the table, one by one.

Six of hearts—the trash card.

Queen of spades.

Queen of hearts.

Queen of diamonds.

And—dramatic pause—the queen of clubs.

The entire room erupts into cheers, choruses of ‘no way’ and the occasional ‘he f*cking beat you man!’. Gabe rushes me, shaking my shoulders from behind and offering up his congratulations. Others follow suit and clap me on the back, some chick drapes herself over me and kisses my cheek. A defeated Joel pushes away from the table so fast his chair falls backward with a clatter. He leaves the room in a huff, never once saying a word to anyone, not even his freaking girlfriend.

What a jackass.

And speaking of his girlfriend…

“You don’t really think you’ve won me or anything, right?” She rests her hand on my thigh—Jesus that feels good—and digs her fingernails in so hard, I can feel them even through the thick denim of my jeans.

That doesn’t feel so good. At all.