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Brandon: You heard the man. And I’m bringing my A-game tonight.

Connor: I wouldn’t expect anything less.

I lean back in my chair, cracking my neck from side to side.

Bash: I’ll bring the whiskey. We’re going to need it if we’re dealing with Bran’s ego all night.

Elijah: Make sure it’s the good stuff.

Connor: I need to prep for tonight. See you guys later.

Bash: Prep? What are you going to do? Do push-ups so you can shuffle better?

Despite my efforts to remain indifferent, a small smile finds its way onto my face.

Connor: Something like that. Gotta keep you guys on your toes.

Brandon: You sure you’re not just chickening out?

Connor: Wouldn’t dream of it.

Brandon: So it’s settled. Poker at my place. I’ll make the chicken wings. Any other wishes?

Bash: Prepare to lose, gentlemen.

Brandon: In your dreams. I’ve been practicing my poker face in the mirror.

Connor: Practicing your ugly face, more like it.

Elijah: Simmer down, children.

Brandon: Don’t forget to bring that sweet money you owe me! Time to pay up, rich boys.

I snort. The only one who’s going to be paying up is him once I’m through. I send a winking emoji and pocket my phone.

My eyes drift to the computer. A humorless smile touches my lips. Don’t worry. You’ll get what’s coming to you soon enough.

At Brandon’s apartment, we crowd into the kitchen.

“Grab a seat. Dinner’s almost ready.” Brandon dishes up generous portions of fries and one big burger onto mismatched plates and passes them around.

I take a bite, the blend of flavors bursting over my tongue.

“Well? What’s the verdict?”

“Delicious,” Elijah says.

Sebastian nods in agreement. “Best one yet. You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Connor?”

I take another mouthful. “It’s good.” The burger really tastes good. “You’ll have no trouble filling up your restaurant with this.”

“I knew I could count on you for an honest opinion.” Brandon claps me on the back, grinning. “The Milton charm—it never fails.”

If only he knew the truth.

After eating, we move over to the poker table.