Page 32 of The Sweetest Risk

Tess and I decide to touch up our makeup before we start playing some blackjack.

“Oh my gosh, Dean and Tristan aresohot!” she squeals as we lean into the mirrors above the bathroom sinks side-by-side. “I mean, I know that you will never go home with Tristan, and obviously I would never because hello girl code, but all I’m saying is that if you don’t go home with Dean, I might.”

“We’ll see how the night goes.” All I want to admit to my best friend is how much I want that to happen. Ineedto go home with Dean tonight. I am so determined to break my rule. Tess was so right. It is stupid and I need to start taking risks. And I need to cleanse my palette of all things Tristan. Weird things have been happening lately between us. Things that have been making my body shiver every time I think about him.

“Ready?” We head back out and find two open seats at a nearby table. I scan the room to look for the hazel-eyed man who has been driving me crazy since he walked into my parent’s kitchen a decade ago, and luckily he is preoccupied with some middle-aged women talking his ear off. He is flashing his stupid perfect boyish smile, making them weak at the knees I’m sure.

Tess and I start playing and we do pretty good. This is the first time that I’ve ever played blackjack. Surprise surprise. I’m not doing too bad. “I’m going to go get another drink. Do you want another?”

“Yes, please.” The dealer starts dealing cards again and I smile, thinking that I haven’t done this in a long time. “This” being dressing up and going out. When I told Tess that I actually wanted to come to Casino Night and change things up, she called me and squealed. She is so excited that I finally want to break my one rule. Come to think of it, I bet Bradley prefers that I have this rule. It has kept him from kicking people’s asses.

When Tess and I went dress shopping for this event, I insisted that I wanted to completely do a one-eighty from my normal. Hey, if I was going to switch it up, I was going to go all in and not look back. And I am not going to lie, it has been refreshing. No headband. No pastel. No overalls covering a slightly oversized shirt with white Keds. I wanted to surprise myself and I have succeeded. Don’t get me wrong, this corset is not the most comfortable thing to wear, but I feel the most confident I have ever felt in my life.

“Is this seat taken?” I turn and look up to find Dean smiling down at me. His blue eyes are scanning my body and I notice how messed up his face looks with the scars from the fight he had with Tristan. Wow, Tristan really did a number on him. I wonder what Tristan meant the other night when he said, “He is dangerously close to getting something that I want”? Thatstatement stubbornly hasn’t left my mind and I wish I could make it disappear.

“Um, no.” Tess will forgive me. “It’s all yours.”

Dean unbuttons his jacket as he sits down, a move that I’ve always found to be very hot when any guy does it. “You know how to play?”

I shrug. “First time.”

“Well looking at that pile of chips you have stacked next to you, you aren’t doing so bad.”

“Thanks.” I nervously play with one of the piles of said chips. This is weird. I don’t even know this man and yet I am willing to break my rule for him. I guess this is the best way to do it. It’s not like any other prospects are in the mix.

“You look beautiful tonight, by the way.”

My face is getting hot.Lock it down, Brooke. Act like you have been complimented on your looks before.There is a tinge of disappointment that I can’t explain.This hot hockey player with ice blue eyes is telling you that you look beautiful! Why aren’t you responding?

It’s because that’s not who I want to hear it from.

I smile extra big and say, “Thank you, Dean! You look extra handsome tonight. I’ve only ever seen you in your hockey gear and I think I prefer this look better.”

“Ok, y’all,” the dealer says to our table. “I think that it’s time for me to turn over the reins to one of the players.”

A chill runs down my spine because the universe hates me that much. Almost as much as I loathe the man stepping behind the blackjack table and looking at me with just as much disdain. I’ve never seen him look at me this fiercely before.

Tristan starts to deal the cards and avoids eye contact with me the whole time. I hope I don’t lose any hands with him, but if I know anything about gambling, I know that the odds aren’tin my favor whatsoever. I bite my lower lip out of nervousness at my hand. I have sixteen. I can go either way honestly.

I hear Tristan clear his throat and growl, “What’s it going to be, Beckett?”

Beckett? He only calls me Beckett if he is really irritated with me or just plain indifferent. I look up and his hazel eyes are super dark and his bulky arms are spread across his torso. At some point while I was contemplating whether to hit or not, Tristan took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves slightly, giving everyone a peek of his tattoos. His Rolex watch is glistening under the lights. I feel Dean’s hand on my upper thigh and my breath hitches. I swear I hear Tristan growl again and I can tell his jaw is super clenched, even under the dark scruff on his face. He seems almost…jealous. Interesting.

I don’t push Dean’s hand away. One, because I like the way a man’s hand feels on my body. And two, I like seeing Tristan squirm a little. I like seeing him jealous. He always has the one-up on me and now, I have the upper hand.

I reach my hand around Dean’s neck and ask him, “What do you think I should do?”

“I didn’t ask Hastings. I asked you,” Tristan practically barks at me.

I direct my gaze back to Tristan. You could cut the tension between us with a knife. Everyone at the table is staring at us, wondering about our next move. I take it.

“I’ll stay, Lawson.”

Finally, there is an inkling of a smirk as he flips over his card, almost like he was expecting me to say that. Jokes on him: he ends up busting.

Dean lets out a laugh, looks directly at Tristan and says, “I guess that’s the second thing you are losing tonight, Lawson.” Then he tightens his grip on my upper thigh, “Good job, Brooke.”

I start clapping and doing a little dance. “See, Lawson, sometimes it pays off playing it safe.”

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