Idrop onto my couch and run my hand through my wet hair. Raising the glass of bourbon to my lips, I take a sip, letting the liquor seep into my muscles and relax away the tension from the day. And hell, really, my life.
Today was a special kind of self-induced torture that I didn’t know if I was going to be able to withstand. What possessed me to spend the entire day with Lily, I have no idea.
Liar.
I huff out a breath of exasperation at my reproachful thought. I do know. I know exactly why I stayed. Why I tried to do everything I could to keep us in close proximity to each other. Why I found any excuse to touch her.
On the one hand, it doesn’t make sense, because what the fuck am I doing? She’s my client. And her husband was just murdered. Possibly by her, if the cops’ theory is correct.And yet…on the other hand, it makes perfect sense why I did that.
Because I’m an idiot with a dick.
It’s been a while since I’ve been laid. I’m pretty sure that’s it. Plus, the whole unintentional damsel in distress, me swooping in to protect her against the detectives, and her being one of the sexiest women I’ve ever seen. Most likely some combination of all those things.
I drop my head back against the couch and stare up at the ceiling, contemplating the predicament I’m in. Though, is it really a predicament if I know I can’t and won’t act on it? It’s more a discomfort that I’m in because I’m pretty certain there’s no way of ignoring my attraction to Lily. So I’ll just have to grin and bear it.
A smarter man than I would make sure to spend the least amount of time with her so he could make sure to stick to that.
But I’m not that smart because I’m pretty sure I’ll be right back there in no time. As long as I can continue to think of valid excuses to skip work for entire days at a time so I can spend time with Lily.
A meow and claws digging into my thigh have my head popping up. “Hank, can you not be an asshole?”
I receive a meow in response, and I run a hand down my cat’s back. He arches into my touch.
“See? This is how you be a nice cat.”
He sits and tilts his head, as if trying to figure out what I’m saying. Even though I know he damn well knows exactly what I’m saying to him.
I take a sip of bourbon, enjoying the liquor burning down my throat. “You ever been attracted to someone you shouldn’t be, Hank?”
Meow.He flips onto his back, curling around, trying toentice me to rub his belly, probably so he can attack my hand. It’s this fun game we like to play.
I oblige, and his long, soft fur engulfs my fingers. “Yeah, I know. You’re too smart for that.”
The sound of my phone vibrating on my glass coffee table is loud in my silent condo. Hank jumps off the couch, leaving me to deal with whatever awaits me. Swiping my phone with a grunt, I unlock the screen and read the text.
Connor: See you in an hour? You missed last time, you asshole.
I sigh and roll out my neck. Years ago, when I was early in my career, I was suckered into joining a poker night a couple of times a month with some other attorneys and the occasional judge. I’ve never been able to extract myself from it. And at this point, I don’t know if I want to. We all know that nothing that happens during a game will be leaked or shared outside of those walls. We don’t all like each other, but we respect each other and the sanctity of the group.
And we’ve developed a blindness to the illegality of our game.
I text him back that I’ll be there and stand, stretching my back. Slamming the rest of my drink, I leave the glass on my coffee table and go to change clothes.
Forty-five minutes later, I drop heavily into the open seat and nod a greeting to the other men gathered around the table. It isn’t always men. We have a fair share of women who join us, but tonight it looks like none of them will be.
“Rivers, good to see you,” Connor greets me.
Connor and I used to be really good friends since we got our first jobs after finishing law school. Neither of us knew what we were doing, and we both leaned on each other as we navigated the cutthroat environment of high-end lawfirms. We had a falling-out when I left defense work, and while we’ve stayed friendly, we’ve never gotten back to the closeness we used to have.
I shake his hand with a slap on his shoulder. “Thanks, man. Good to see you too. You the organizer tonight?”
No one actually knows who started this group, nor do we have an official organizer. After someone has come enough times, they just get worked into the rotation of organizers and take their turn heading up a game. We’ve never had anyone push back or not take up the reins when it was passed to them. It’s just this unstated understanding between all of us. It also helps that this is by invitation only, so people tend to know what they are getting into when they show up. Plus, being the organizer is a pretty easy job. It’s mostly making sure someone’s the designated dealer for every table, collecting the bets, and handing out the chips and winnings. They also make sure nothing gets too heated. There are some people in this group who really hate losing.
“Yep, got the text last week letting me know I was up.” He raises a hand and motions for the bartender to come over.
We always play in the same bar, and the owner closes it down for us. Another secret is why we come to this bar. But we all do our part to spend as much money as possible so we can make it worth their while, and they let us keep coming back.
I place my order and hand Connor my money. As I’m waiting for everyone else to arrive and get settled in so we can start, my mind wanders back to Lily. I wonder what she’s up to tonight, and how she’ll spend her evenings going forward. I think about her, alone in the hotel room.
