He swipes up the box of cards, thumbs the tab open, and empties the deck into his palm.
Even before he came in, I was having a hard time focusing because my mind never left breakfast. Zeke isn’t eating, and no one seems to be concerned about that except me. It’s only been a few days, but how much longer can he hold out?
“That’s an incredibly rude question,” I joke as I turn the page again.
“Do you play cards?” he asks as he riffle shuffles them.
“Yes.”
“Would you like to play a round with me?”
I sigh and close the book in my hand that the chatterbox doesn’t seem to notice I’m holding. Setting it down on the table, I sit back and stare at him. He also has a book resting near his elbow as if he’s planning on staying. There’s also a bottle of gin from Thorin’s stash.
“Why would I play with you?” I ask.
“Call it an icebreaker.”
“But I like the ice. It’s kind of comforting.”
“So that’s it then?” His brows raise. “You’ve finally given up the nice act?”
“It wasn’t an act. I wasgenuinelybeing nice to you, but then you turned out to be a dick, and now I’m over it. I’ve decided we don’t need to be friends.”
“Ouch.” As if I hadn’t insulted him, he splits the deck in half and starts dealing the cards. “One round,” he pleads.
I sigh again, but I don’t leave the table like I’m itching to do. Once all the cards are dealt, he slides the gin into the center, where it’s easy for us both to reach. “What are we playing?”
“It’s called War.”
Fitting.
“We each flip one card over at the same time until one of us wins all the cards in the deck. The player with the higher card wins the hand. Whoever has the lower card has to take a drink.” Zeke taps the bottle of gin with a fingernail. “That’s where this comes in.”
“It’s barely noon,” I point out. “And you haven’t eaten.”
“Are you worried about me?”
“No.”
Zeke smiles, and it’s not exactly friendly, but it’s notunfriendly either.
It’s fucking beautiful.
My belly dips from the weight of my want when I realize he has Seth’s smile. The curve of it promises danger while drawing me in.
“Then there’s no reason we can’t play,” Zeke decides before picking up his cards. He keeps them face down and pauses to regard me. “Unless you’d rather trade truths instead?”
“Pass.”
Zeke smiles and licks his lips. And then he tips his chin toward my untouched half of the deck. “Ready?”
Wondering why he’s doing this, I slowly claim my cards and keep them face down like he does. “Ready.”
We both grab the top card in our hand and slam them down face up between us at the same time. Zeke swears when my queen of diamonds trumps his three of hearts.
I smile a little as I claim the cards while Zeke grabs the gin and takes a healthy swig before slamming it back down. “Beginner’s luck,” he says with his eyes on me.
We’re still holding each other’s gazes when we play two more cards. My seven of diamonds beats his six of spades. “You assume I’ve never played this before.”
