The two guys match my bet. Saylor makes his way around the table again, checking what cards they just got, and gives me a mischievous grin.
This hand is mine.
As the final card is revealed, I confidently lay down my hand, revealing a full house—aces over eights. The second fisherman angrily throws his cards down, revealing a pair of sevens. The first one simply grunts in annoyance, and I can’t help but break into a triumphant smile as I rake in the pot.
Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
Just as I’m savoring my victory, Adam leans in with one of his charming smiles. “Wanna go another round with me?” he asks, his green gaze locked onto mine.
“Sure,” I breathe out, feeling myself blush.
“We’re here to win money, not to flirt. Stay focused, Boo,” Saylor cautions from next to me, his tone agitated as his gaze shoots daggers at Adam when I steal a quick glance his way while shuffling.
I would like to tell him that I am, in fact, not flirting, but that needs to wait since it feels like all the eyes in the room are on me while I deal out the cards.
We start another round, and Adam’s smile hasn’t faded. “I was on the boat you repaired last week,” he tells me, his voice warm and appreciative. “It’s like new. You’re really good.”
I offer him a small, genuine smile before turning my attention back to my cards. The second fisherman calls, and the intensity of the game grows as we all raise our bets.
Adam leans in closer, his voice lower as if sharing a secret. “You’ve got a great poker face, Sloan,” he compliments.
“Thanks,” I respond, trying to keep my tone casual, although I can feel my cheeks warming again.
Is he trying to get me nervous?
Saylor clears his throat loudly and leans in closer to me. “Concentrate, Slo.”
I nod, tearing my gaze away from Adam and refocusing on the cards. His flirting is getting under my skin, and I’m not quite sure if I like the attention. And I can’t ignore it as we continue playing, his knee occasionally brushing against mine.
Saylor is walking around the table again when I glance up, trying to catch his advice. But my attention is drawn to Nash, who’s still standing behind Adam’s chair, his jaw clenched tightly. His blue eyes are blazing, and he doesn’t look happy.
“Watch out, Adam, blondie is going to get the last shirt off your back,” someone out of the crowd jokes, prompting a few chuckles from the onlookers.
Adam’s response takes me by surprise, his gaze intense as he flirts unashamed, “I wouldn’t mind that one bit.” His innuendo hangs in the air like a promise before the whole room starts to laugh, but it’s too much for Nash.
With a forceful slam of his hand on the table, he explodes, “Focus on the fucking game!”
Adam raises an eyebrow, seemingly unfazed by Nash’s outburst. “Just having a little fun, man,” he coolly retorts.
But before the tension can escalate any further, my chair is abruptly pulled back, and I’m yanked to my feet by my upper arm. I turn to face an irate North, his expression contorted with fury. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
The shipyard’salive with laughter and cheers as North, Lio, and I enter, returning from yet another frustrating doctor’s appointment. They still can’t provide us with any concrete answers about Lio’s worsening condition, offering useless advice like changing our laundry detergent and shampoo. As if there weren’t already enough hypoallergenic products at home.
Damn, the house is almost bare of decoration or clutter to ensure there won't be any dust catchers.
Lio would be one of the kids who climbs trees and runs around all day, a little troublemaker. But most of the time, his sickness leaves him so weak that he has to watch from the sidelines, and it hurts to watch the glimmer in his eyes grow duller every day.
Nash is the only one who manages to make him smile without trying, and I envy him for that, but at the same time, I would do everything to make this sad boy a little happier.
He’s only five, but his world is far from carefree. All the doctor appointments, all the coughing, the dizzy spells, they’re dimming his light. He’s the kind of kid who dreams big. His eyes light up at the sight of boats, and he often gets lost in his make-believe adventures on the high seas. But his illness is an anchor, pulling him back into a harsher reality.
Despite all that, Lio is the kindest little boy, greeting everyone with warmth and a smile. He’s a gentle soul in a body that struggles to keep up. I try to give him as much joy as possible. North tells me I’m spoiling him rotten, but who could not give the child everything he wants if that’s the only way to light up his eyes again?
His good days are like sun breaks in an overcast sky, moments of unbridled energy where he almost seems like any other child, running and laughing without care. But these days are rare gems, getting rarer the older he gets, and all too soon, he’s back to being that delicate boy, so pale and fragile as if a stronger gust of wind might carry him away.
He’s so much more mature than he should be at this age, and I can’t do shit to make it better.
It’s so fucking frustrating.
