“Can you try to go back to sleep?” Saylor asks from beside me, where he sits on my bed like he belongs there.
“I don’t think I can sleep right now,” I admit, my voice still shaky. The nightmare is too fresh, too vivid, and I fear it’ll return if I close my eyes.
I glance at the radio display, its dim glow revealing the time. Three a.m. It’s too early for a morning run and still dark outside. I turn to Saylor, feeling guilty that he just had to see what a mess I am.
Saylor seems to sense I’m still barely holding on, and a playful glint enters his eyes. “Hey, girl, are you a coffin? ’Cause I’ve been dying to get inside you.” I just look at him and shudder at the thought of being inside a coffin. “Well, I thought that one was funny because I’m dead…” He trails off and scoots over to lay beside me on his side. Now we’re both laying there with our heads on our arms, looking into each other’s eyes. “Wanna tell me about the dream?” he asks softly, reaching out seeminglyto touch my cheek, but his finger halts just shy of touching me before he pulls his hand back to his side.
“Not really,” I murmur, turning to lie on my back.
“But that wasn’t just about getting locked in the boat, right? I already thought the boat wasn’t what made you panic yesterday. Getting locked in just triggered something. You weren’t in that hole. You were somewhere else. Just like you were when you just woke up.” I don’t like that he seems to have figured me out already, so I don’t answer, just look up at the fairy lights on the ceiling. “Slo…” He leans over me, so I have to look into his eyes. His voice is full of concern, and his gaze searches my face for answers. I can feel my eyes water, and my walls are caving in for him. “You can talk to me,” he whispers.
I let out a long breath. “I helped a ghost, and it ended badly for me. So badly it still haunts me.”
“Understood,” he murmurs, but his sad eyes tell me he doesn’t at all. He’s too concerned to pry right now, but it’s obvious he won’t let that one go. He sits back up, and his whole demeanor changes from sad to something giddy. “You know what I used to do when I couldn’t sleep?”
I raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued despite the lingering unease. “What?”
“I’d play poker with myself,” he admits with a chuckle. “That’s probably why I got so good at it. I’d start some gambling with the crew whenever we had downtime.”
I can’t help but smile, his light-hearted confession easing the tension that had gripped me moments ago. “You played poker with yourself? That sounds… interesting.”
Saylor grins wider, clearly enjoying my reaction. “Well, if you’re up for it, we could play a game right now. It’s a great way to pass the time.”
I nod, intrigued by the idea.
Anything’s better than laying here, stewing.
“I’ve got a deck of cards somewhere.”
He leans forward, excitement in his eyes. “Perfect! Let’s get it.”
I reach for a drawer under the bed, sliding it open and rummaging around until I find the deck of cards tucked away in a dusty corner. With a grin, I start shuffling them with skill, drawing his appreciative gaze.
“You know how to play poker?”
I snort with amusement. “No, but I’m really good at ‘Go Fish.’” I played that all the time with Nan. My heart hurts when I think about how she always won, not letting me win one damn time. I feel the familiar burn in my nose, so I shake off the thought.
Can’t have a panic attack only to break out in tears right afterward.
That’s what a crazy person would do.
He begins explaining the rules of poker to me, his voice low and gentle. “Okay, so we’ll start with a simple game of Texas Hold’em. I’ll teach you the basics, and you’ll catch on quickly.”
Our eyes lock, and I have to gulp at a tingle that builds in my chest.
He continues, “In Texas Hold’em, you get two private cards, and there are five community cards dealt face up. The goal is to make the best hand possible from your two private cards and the five community cards.”
As he explains the intricacies of the game, I can’t help but be drawn to the way his fingers deftly fly over the cards I’ve laid out, just shy of touching them, and how his forearms are just as muscular as Nash’s. He’s just as good-looking as his brothers and tall as well. He has a bit of a baby face, but God, it’s handsome. This lot won the genetic lottery for sure.
My gaze comes up to his again after I checked out what his fingers were showing me while he talked, and the knowing glint in his eyes tells me I’m busted.
I take back the cards he used to explain the game from the bed, only to shuffle them and deal the first round out again. I place his cards face up so he can see them and nearly hide behind my cards, holding them before my face. The tension in the room grows palpable as he looks at me for a long time before he says, “I’ll check.” His voice is low and smooth.
I raise an eyebrow, a challenge in my gaze. “Raising the stakes already, are we?”
Saylor smirks, his flirtatious demeanor in full force. “Maybe I just want to see what you’ve got.”
Nope. Nah-uh, Sloan, you are not going to get all worked up over a ghost.
