I’m more than a little annoyed with Aaron and I being at the same table in the first place. It wouldn’t surprise me to find out that Kenneth had something to do with it. He probably isn’t even trying to make a dig; I doubt he remembers the whole fake dating thing being floated since it was years ago.
Kenneth might be self-serving, but I’ve never known him to be malicious.
I take a sip of my water and watch the hand play out, Aaron bowing out before putting any more chips into the pot. When he meets my gaze, he smirks slightly.
“You know,” he starts, his voice warm in a way it always is when the cameras are pointed toward him, “you’re a better player than I thought you’d be, Quincy.”
The smile I flash him is sweet, but it’s fake as fuck. From the way his eyes flash before he puts in the big blind, he can see the warning behind it. I’m not surprised when he ignores it.
“You’re exactly the player I knew you’d be,” I tell him, my voice innocent which allows for interpretation as to how I mean my words.
I swear I hear Hawkins snort, but I ignore him. His eyes boring into me are distracting enough.
“Where’d you learn to play? I learned in movie trailers between takes and scenes,” he doesn’t wait for me to ask him the same or answer, his voice casual.
As much as I want to roll my eyes, I hold myself back. I straighten my shoulders before glancing at my hole cards, knowing I can use my hand to go after Aaron in the only way that matters—by taking down the pot.
“I learned from my dad. He loves card games, any of them really, but he had a special love for poker and hearts. The man loves to shoot the moon,” I joke and chuckle softly. I know he doesn’t really care; he’s just trying to get his own story out there.
Well, the world can have mine too. I’m sure as fuck not ashamed of where I came from or the memories of a time when life was simpler.
You can simplify things now. Leave it all behind.
My heart stutters in my chest for a second as the thought slams into me. My eyes flick to where Hawkins is sitting. I find him already watching me; I knew he would be. I could feel his eyes on me.
I’ve been turned on since I sat down at the table. My panties are fucking ruined.
And if this doesn’t end soon, I might combust.
I swallow hard and wonder if I really could leave it all behind.
Maybe.
Maybe I could.
I focus back on the cards, raising when it’s my turn. Surprise flickers across Aaron’s face, but he doesn’t back down. The turn gives me what I need, and I know the pair Aaron is hoping to turn into trips isn’t going to go his way. I can feel it.
He goes all in, his ego is too big to let him walk away to go in on a better hand, and I take down the pot. With him being taken out, the tournament for the day is over. I take a deep breath as I realize I just guaranteed my seat at the final table.
We sit until it’s announced that we’re clear, since the whole thing is being televised. Aaron stands up and stretches, but my eyes flick to Hawkins and hold. His blue eyes are smoldering with a cold fire I desperately want to experience up close and personal.
Someone quickly comes by and collects the microphone clipped to me. I offer the frazzled production assistant a smile, but I don’t think she even notices.
I startle slightly as Aaron slides into the seat next to me, a smile on his face which has me eyeing him warily. “I have to say, I don’t like losing, but you make the experience kind of enjoyable.”
My face scrunches up before I can stop it and he blinks in surprise. I guess that is what happens when you’re used to women falling over themselves to get closer to you. But that’s not me and it never will be.
I thought we already covered this, but apparently Aaron Holt is persistent. Or maybe he’s just that self-centered.
“Aaron,” my voice is placating, “I’ve already made myself clear. I’m not interested.”
He flashes me his all-American grin, the one that has opened doors for him and probably dropped more panties than I care to think about. But it’s not going to work on me, it never would. Even if Hawkins hadn’t burst into my life it would still be true.
I point toward Hawkins who is now standing with his legs braced a shoulder-width apart and his arms crossed over his chest, and murmur, “He’s waiting on me. We have plans.”
Aaron’s eyes ping-pong between my biker and me a few times before he shakes his head slightly. His mouth opens and closes, like he’s not sure what to say, but then he just closes it and nods once. “Right, well, enjoy the final table. I know you’ll kick some ass.”
Then he stands up and strides away. In the opposite direction of a certain biker. The same biker whose eyes are following Aaron very closely. I can’t help but grin and stand up slowly.
