The laughter settles as everyone tosses their chips into the growing pot. Sutton’s confidence is magnetic. She doesn’t flinch even as the stakes rise. I can’t help but feel a surge of pride watching her hold her own among my brothers and teammates.
“All right, show ’em,” Killian says, nodding at Sutton.
She hesitates, glancing at me with a flicker of uncertainty before turning her cards over. “Two pair,” she announces, revealing a pair of queens and a pair of tens.
Not bad for her first hand, but Bennett lets out a triumphant laugh and slaps down a flush. “Sorry, darlin’,” he says, reaching for the pot.
“Wait,” Sutton says, her eyes narrowing on his cards. “Aren’t those all different suits?”
The table goes silent. Bennett’s smile falters as he looks down.
“Shit,” he mutters, realizing his mistake. “I thought they were all clubs.”
Jake howls with laughter. “You’ve been playing for years and you still can’t tell a flush from a garbage hand?”
“Apparently not,” I chuckle, watching Bennett’s face turn a delightful shade of red. “Looks like Sutton’s winning her first round.”
She glances at me with surprise, then back at her cards. “Wait, I won?”
“You did,” I confirm, sliding the pot toward her. “Bennett just handed you about a thousand bucks.”
Her eyes widen and she stares at the chips like they might bite her. “That’s…a lot of money for a mistake.”
Bennett shrugs good-naturedly. “Wouldn’t be the first time. Ask these guys how much I lost last month when I thought a straight beat a flush.”
“Two grand,” Kyler supplies helpfully, wiggling two fingers.
“Two grand and your dignity,” Boone adds.
Sutton’s eyes widen as the mountain of plastic discs slides her way. She glances at me, and I can see the momentary panic at handling what must be a couple thousand dollars’ worth of chips.
She starts to push them into the middle of the table, explaining, “Guys I can’t actually take your?—”
“Yes you can,” Sebastian insists, pushing them back toward her. “You won fair and square. That’s how poker works.”
Sutton hesitates, her fingers hovering over the chips like they might burn her. “But I didn’t even?—”
“Rules are rules,” Killian chimes in, already shuffling the deck for the next hand. “Besides, Bennett can afford it. His underwear contract alone could buy this house.”
Bennett tosses a pretzel at Kill’s head. “Fuck off.”
“Wait,” Sutton says, looking genuinely confused. “You have an underwear contract?”
The table erupts in laughter again, and Bennett’s cheeks flush even deeper red. “It was ONE billboard! And it paid well!”
“Very well,” Kyler adds, wagging his eyebrows. “Who knew Bennett’s package was so…marketable?”
“I hate all of you,” Bennett mutters, but he’s fighting a smile.
Sutton glances at me, her eyes sparkling with amusement, and something warm unfurls in my chest. She’s relaxing, becoming more comfortable by the minute. The guarded bartender is still there, but there’s something lighter about her now, a playfulness I don’t get to see often enough. I want to bottle this moment and preserve it somehow. If for no other reason than to remind her of it when she has a hard day.
“So,” she says, rearranging her newly won chips into neat stacks, “are you guys always this bad at poker, or is this a special performance for my benefit?”
“Oh, this is us on a good day,” Orry says, reaching for his beer. “You should see us when we’re actually trying to win.”
“Speak for yourself,” I tell him. “Some of us are playing the long game.”
“Oh, we know, man.” Jake nods slowly, his eyes flitting between me and Sutton. “We know.”
