“Pippa just took me and James out!” Nate says. “She’s going head-to-head with Ryan!”
“You’re kidding!” Cat cries.
Everyone gathers around the table to watch our match-up while Nate tells the group about how Pippa took him out. James grabs the cards, silently settling into the role of dealer.
Across the table, Pippa meets my eyes. There’s a challenging glint in them that makes my heartrate speed up.
“Nice stack you got there.” I wink. “It would be a shame if anything happened to it.”
She shakes her head. “Oh, Ryan. I’d never let you anywhere near my stack.”
Luke lets out a low whistle while Brinley and Cat jump up and down, chanting Pippa’s name. I mentally shut out the noise as my focus zeroes in on the cards.
I’m the champion, and this game is mine to win.
In hand one, my two-pair beats her pocket sevens, and I take a shot.
Hand number two, she folds as soon as I lay down a pair of jacks. I take a shot.
Hand number three, she folds as soon as I raise after the river. I take a shot, and I realize that I’m a fucking moron.
She’s been baiting me.
She knows I’m trying to figure out how she plays, so I’m more willing to call and play for a smaller pot, just to see what she’ll do. She’s been baiting me to play small hands, not because she’s scared off by my raises. No, she’s folding so I win and I have to take a shot.
I look up at her, and I see double of her beautiful, gloating face.
“Trying to get me drunk, Pips?” My voice sounds slurred even to me.
Her red lips curl up into an evil smile. “Never.”
Closing my eyes, I take three deep breaths. I know my reasoning is impaired by now, but every hand counts. As dangerous as it is to lose any chips to her while she’s in the lead, I can’t afford to take another shot. I can only play when I know I’ll win.
And she knows it.
I fold the next two hands in a row to her, and she smiles like the cat who got the cream. She’s got me right where she wants me—bleeding chips and playing safe.
On my third hand, I’m dealt my salvation. A queen and jack of hearts. It’s my only chance to get a big win and regain ground in the game.
Pippa’s eyes glitter when I raise before the flop. She reminds me of a lioness, playing with her prey. She calls, and James turns over the cards.
Seven of hearts, seven of clubs, ten of hearts.
For the first time, I can read Pippa’s face. Her lip twitches, and I know she’s got at least one seven her hand, maybe two. Four of a kind or a full house, they’re both on the table. I like my odds for a flush, but unless I’m reading her wrong, I’ll need a straight flush to beat her.
I shove in half my stack. I know she’ll call. One way or another, the game is ending here.
She matches my bet, and James flips the turn card.
King of hearts.
My own heart thuds hard in my chest. Impossibly, I got one of the cards I needed. A nine or ace of hearts, and victory is mine. The odds aren’t in my favor, but they never were from the beginning.
“What do you say, Pippa?” I ask. “Wanna take all my chips?”
“I’d love to.”
I shove my stack to the center, and Pippa matches it. The room is completely silent when James flips the final card to show—the nine of diamonds.
