Page 118 of Bossy Wicked Prince
When I set the glass back down, the back of my hand accidentally brushes against Nate’s as he reaches out to straighten his chips. I flinch back, putting my hand in my lap.
A phone notification distracts me. Ryan pulls his phone out of his pocket. Whatever he sees makes him wrinkle his nose, and he shoves it back in again.
Luke starts shuffling the cards and Ryan tosses a chip on the table. “Why are you putting in chips before you have cards?” I whisper.
He leans over. “It’s the little blind. Nate has the big one. The two players to the left of the dealer have to put money in. It’s to make sure there’s some money in the pot, even if the others decide not to play the hand. Guessing you’re not a poker nut?”
“No. All I know about poker is what I saw in that James Bond movie.”
“You’ll catch on. What I love about poker is that it’s easy to learn, hard to master. Ask me if you have any questions.”
“Won’t I distract you?”
Ryan chuckles. “Please. This early in the night, I could beat these guys with my hands tied behind my back. Once I get a few shots in me, that’s when I’ll really need your luck.”
I don’t miss that Ryan stopped hitting on me. I’m guessing he hasn’t given up on trying to get me and Nate back together. It seems more like he’s so excited to explain poker to someone that everything else is now on the back burner.
When Ryan gets his cards, he gives me a quick glimpse of them—a seven and a nine of hearts. I have no idea if that’s goodor bad, and I know better than to ask. But Ryan puts in two more chips, so he must be happy enough.
Nate doubles without a word.
“Too rich for my blood,” Beau says, throwing down his cards. “We haven’t even seen the flop.”
Ryan whispers in my ear again. “The flop is the first three cards the dealer lays down. We all have the cards in our hand, and we try to make the best hand we can, combined with the cards on the table.”
I glance over at Nate. He’s still ignoring me, his eyes so glued to the center of the table, it’s like he thinks it might explode if he looks away.
Luke and James match Nate’s bid, and Ryan pulls a few chips from his pile, which he offers to me. “Go ahead, lucky charm. Put them in.”
I automatically put out my hand to take them, and Ryan’s fingers graze against mine. When I put them in the center of the table, Nate grabs his whiskey. He grasps it so hard that his knuckles turn white, and for a second I’m afraid he’ll break the glass.
Ryan’s baiting him, and it’s working.
Guilt settles heavily in my stomach. Technically, I’m not doing anything wrong, but I’ve basically interrupted his boys’ night and sat right next to him while his best friend flirts with me. It’s unnecessarily cruel.
I purposefully angle my body away from Ryan. When they’re done with this hand, I’ll go back to the bar and give him some space.
Ding! Ding!
James glares at Ryan. “Dude, who keeps texting you?”
“Nobody,” Ryan says quickly.
Luke lays the first three cards on the table, and Ryan casually pushes a small stack of chips forward. Nate glares down at it, then pushes forward a larger stack of chips himself.
James tosses his cards down, and Luke follows suit. “I’m out.”
Ryan chuckles. “You trying to go all in, Nate?”
Nate lets out a low growl in response. Ryan just shakes his head and matches Nate’s stack.
The next card is the six of hearts. Ryan knocks his hand on the table, and Nate does the same. The final card is the queen of hearts. Ryan and Nate both put in another small pile, until roughly half their chips are in the center.
I gnaw on my lower lip. I don’t know about Ryan, but Nate’s playing purely on anger and ego. I haven’t watched him play poker, but I’ve seen him make decisions at work. He’s never this quick to jump into something, placing his bets before he’s barely had time to take in all the information. How much money did he just throw on the table because of me?
I probably don’t even want to know.
The bets are over, and Ryan turns over his cards. “Flush.”
