Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
After I watched Than win five hands and Gathe win three, I decided to join the betting.
“Can I have some of the, uh, chips, please?” I asked Than, who had the box of cereal beside him.
His brows drew together. “No.”
Sighing, I glanced at Gathe and smiled. “I think I’m ready to bet, and I have more money in the room.”
Gathe looked torn. He didn’t want to tell me no, but since I’d lost every hand so far, he didn’t want me losing money.
“Don’t look at him. He needs money, and he’ll take yours,” Than warned me.
Gathe shot him an annoyed glare. “Shut up.”
“Just a couple of hands?” I asked. “It looks fun.”
Than stared at me, then grabbed the box and poured some out. “You can bet, but I’m not taking your money.”
I smiled at him, and he paused for a moment as he looked at me. Then he blinked and jerked his gaze off me and back to the box of cereal.
What had that been all about? It had been weird.
“I won’t take your money either,” Gathe told me, leaning closer. “Just his.”
“If I lose a hand, then it’s only fair if you do.”
Gathe winced. “Yeah, well, we’ve been placing some steep bets.”
I was aware. I had been paying close attention. They used the yellow pieces more than any other piece.
Than slid over my allotment of cereal. “Here you go.”
“Thank you,” I told him, and he gave me a small nod.
“All right. Still no big or little. Just betting before the flop,” Gathe said.
“He means that no one will be designated to bet. We will all bet before we see the first three cards on the table,” Than explained.
“Okay,” I replied.
Gathe dealt out our first three cards, and I looked at mine, then waited.
“Than was first bet last hand. You start this one,” Gathe told me.
I studied my pieces of cereal, then took a yellow one and put it in the middle before looking at both of them. “Y’all seemed to always use this one to start.”
Gathe chuckled. “All right, big spender,” he said.
He put a yellow piece with mine, and then Than placed his.
“You’d better hope those dimples can keep him from taking your money,” Than drawled.
I looked over at him. “If I’m a six, then I doubt my dimples will do much good.”
“What about a six?” Gathe asked.
I turned to him. “My ranking.”
He frowned. “What ranking?”
I shrugged. “Than said all guys have a ranking. They rank females in their heads.”
Gathe nodded slowly with a confused look. “Yeah, we do, but”—he glanced at Than, then back at me—“my scale is a one to ten. What the fuck kinda scale is Than’s?”
“The same,” I replied.
Than remained quiet.
Gathe turned to him. “You told her she was a six?” he asked, and then he laughed and shook his head. “You’re not only an asshole, but a fucking liar.” Gathe’s eyes came back to me, and he reached out and took my chin. “Sweetheart, you look in a mirror every day. You gotta know that you’re not a six.”
“Are we gonna play, or are you gonna feed her ego?” Than asked.
My eyes cut to him as they narrowed. “I don’t have an ego.”
“You fucking should,” Gathe said, letting go of my chin and tapping the tip of my nose. “You’re a ten, and he knows it. He’s just being a dick.”
I wasn’t a ten, but Gathe liked me. He wasn’t hiding that fact. Than was annoyed with it because of Jericho. But it had been sweet of Gathe to say it.
“Are you gonna deal the flop, or do you want me to deal?” Than asked.
Gathe gave him an annoyed glance, then laid the next three cards face up on the bar. I slid another yellow to the pile in the middle.
Thirteen
Than
The first hand I’d passed off as beginner’s luck. Even the second hand. It was funny. Because although I wasn’t letting Gathe take her money, I sure as shit was making him pay her. But the third hand? I watched as she pulled the cereal pieces from the middle her way. She’d now won over a thousand dollars.
Reaching for the whiskey bottle, I poured another glass. “Looks like we’ve been swindled,” I told Gathe. I wanted to laugh, but I held it back.
I lifted my eyes to meet hers, and she stared at me. The uncertainty in them was mixed with a trace of amusement.
“Who taught you to play like that?” I asked her. “Because it sure as shit wasn’t Gathe’s poor instruction.”
She glanced at Gathe, then me before responding, “Tank. He was a bouncer at the Diamond Club. Where my mom worked. There were times I had to go to work with her because Ms. Bartheson couldn’t stay with me. Tank would let Sting, the other bouncer, handle the door while he sat in the back office with me and we played cards. Sometimes, Peg, the owner, would join us.”