Chapter 16 – pippa
PIPPA
Ryan hunches on the couch, alternating between mainlining double espressos and water bottles boosted with electrolyte packs.
He looks like he got hit by a bus, and I can’t help preening with satisfaction.
He’ll be fine—he has the metabolism of a horse, and he’ll go from tipsy to sober in a few hours.
I lean back in my armchair, basking in the glory of victory.
When I sat down at the table, I was a little worried that Ryan would see through my strategy and fold before he had to take a shot.
Luckily for me, it worked like a charm. I used his strategic brain against him, drawing him in with the promise of learning more about my unpredictable playing style, then folding and leaving him with the whiskey.
Cat would probably tell me it was cruel, but hey—Ryan never holds back from playing dirty, so why should I?
Ryan moans and covers his eyes with a hand.
God, it’s amazing seeing him defeated. Beating him in person was sooooo much better than beating him in online poker, where he didn’t know who was beating him down.
When I’m older and looking back on all the best moments of my life, seeing his face when I took the W might be first on the list. His slack mouth and vacant eyes will be forever immortalized in my memory.
“How are you going to spend your poker winnings, Pippa?” Luke asks.
I shrug. “I’ll pay Cat and Brinley back their buy-ins. After that, I don’t know. Probably save it to put toward rent at my new place?”
“You don’t need to pay me back. It’s Nate’s money,” Cat adds.
“Hey, I’ll take mine,” Brinley says. “Enough poker. I want to play a game I can win. Who’s up for Mao?”
“You play without me,” Ryan says. “I need a few.”
He lies back on the couch and puts a pillow over his head. Nate shakes his head. “Ryan will be lucky if tonight’s hangover goes away by Christmas.”
“He’s going to need plenty of alcohol, anyway,” I say. “We’re both going home for Christmas this year, and he’ll need something to salve the sting of defeat.”
“Doesn’t your family usually go on vacation for Christmas?” Beau asks.
“It’s the first time in five years that our parents decided to stay home. They invited a bunch of uncles and aunts, too.” Ryan’s voice is muffled from under the pillow.
“Enough talk,” Brinley says, dealing the cards to the rest of us. “Time to play.”
I quickly learn that when she’s playing a game she actually enjoys, Brinley is fiercely competitive. She’s so sweet and helpful when she’s working in the café that it’s a shock to see her let out her vicious side. Honestly, it makes me like her more.
After a few hands, Ryan tosses the throw pillow on the floor and watches us.
Or rather, he watches me. His gaze is like a physical touch, caressing my hair, my face, the low neckline of my green dress.
I actually borrowed the dress from Cat, which means that on me, the hem ends an inch or two below my ass.
The only thing that doesn’t make it indecent is the black stockings I’m wearing underneath.
All part of my strategy, of course. Anything that could distract Ryan improved my chances of winning.
Except after the game, he didn’t even glance down at my body. His eyes were fixed on my face when he shook my hand with a firm grip. His jaw flexed as he said, “Good game.” The words sounded almost haunted, like he still hadn’t processed that I beat him.
Now, who knows what he’s thinking? I can’t tell if he’s furious, confused, irritated, or turned on. Maybe a mixture of all four.
“Mao!” Brinley calls out victoriously, ending another round of the game.
Luke groans. “That’s four in a row you’ve won. Isn’t it time to give someone else a turn?”
“Let’s play a different game,” Cat suggests. “What about Never Have I Ever?”
“NO!” five male voices shout in unison. The guys look so horrified, it’s like Cat had just suggested that we all try and swallow a live boa constrictor.
Like any good writer, my ears perk up when I sense a story. “What happened there? Have you played before?”
James crosses his arms and Nate stares at a spot on the floor.
“Let’s do the White Elephant swap now,” Luke says quickly.
I frown. “But you haven’t—”
“White Elephant time!” Ryan proclaims. “Everyone, put your gifts on the table.”
The guys all go to fetch their presents with an alarming speed. Nobody’s talking—not yet. But I tuck the exchange in the back of my mind. When the time’s right, I’ll find out the story. There’s no way I’d let a mystery like this go that easy, especially if there’s a possibility of Ryan blackmail.
Watching them all scatter like ants to retrieve their gifts is like sitting front row at a very specific, very chaotic family reunion.
They’re not just poker night friends or billionaire business buddies—they’re each other’s emergency contacts, bad-influence brothers, and emotional-support disasters all rolled into one.
Once all the presents are piled on the table, we pull our numbers to decide the order. James draws first, and picks the biggest box on the table. When he opens it, he sighs with wry amusement.
“What is it?” Beau asks.
James displays the box to the rest of the room. Brinley and Cat break into giggles, clutching each other’s arms. Inside, there’s about every kinky toy you could think of. Handcuffs, vibrators, a dildo, a flogger, a leather harness, and even more stuff underneath that.
“You have to steal that from him, Cat,” Beau proclaims. “You can use the riding crop on Nate when he’s being annoying.”
“Or as a reward if he’s been good,” Cat says, kissing Nate’s cheek. Ryan and I both make gagging noises.
“I’m next,” Brinley says. She grabs a messily wrapped present that turns out to be a little zen garden kit in the shape of a kitty litter box, complete with a pooper scooper rake and a mini black cat. I gasp.
“Sorry, Brinley, I’ll be stealing that on my turn,” I announce.
“No way!” Ryan says. “What if Waffle gets confused and starts peeing in that?”
I roll my eyes. “She’s smarter than that. She knows what her litter box is, and she knows it’s not raked into cute little lines.”
“Who bought this one?” Brinley asks.
“We’re not allowed to reveal until the gifts are exchanged,” Beau says solemnly.
“But you’ll probably figure most of them out,” James says drily. “Who’s next?”
“I’ve got number three!” Ryan says. “I’m going for a new gift, too.”
My lips curl into a diabolical smile as he reaches for my gift. I put an extra shiny ribbon on it to attract his attention, since Ryan is so easily distracted.
He tears off the wrapping paper and his jaw drops. Everyone leans in to look at my holiday masterstroke—a pair of custom-printed socks, covered with the same picture of Ryan’s face.
It’s a photo I snapped four years ago, when he passed out on the couch at a family Christmas party after downing too much whiskey.
He’s wearing a Santa hat, and his mouth is wide open, complete with visible drool dripping down his chin.
Ryan prides himself on being photogenic, which means he hates this photo.
I swear, he wrote to Mark Zuckerberg himself to get it taken off Instagram.
I lean back in my seat and wait for Ryan to blow a gasket.
Instead, he throws back his head and howls with laughter. “These are fucking great!” he cries.
“You look like crap, Ryan,” Luke says. “I want them.”
“No way. Those are mine,” Beau proclaims.
“No fair! They’ve got my face on them!” Ryan complains.
Nate holds up his paper with the number four. “Actually, they’re mine now. I’m stealing.”
Ryan sticks his tongue out at Nate, and I shake my head in disbelief. When I ordered the socks, I felt a little bad that someone would get stuck with them. I can’t believe we live in a world where anyone actually likes them.
The game devolves from there. Just about everyone makes a play for the Ryan socks, except for me. I manage to end the game with my litter box zen garden, and Cat gets the Ryan socks, which she promises will be shared custody of the group.
Once it’s all over, everyone’s a little loopy from laughter and a night full of booze. Beau holds up his gift, a candle shaped like a hand giving the middle finger.
“Fess up,” he says. “Who got this one?”
Brinley raises her hand, then flips Beau off. “I’m only here to hang with Pippa and Cat, so I figured it would be appropriate for any of you guys to take home. Who bought the air tags I got?”
“James,” the guys say in unison.
“He gives the most practical gifts,” Nate explains. “Last year it was new gym socks. The year before that, it was replacement phone chargers.”
“It’s not even as boring as your present, Nate. Seriously? An emergency winter driving kit?” Luke moans. “After I splurged on all your sex toys?”
“Hey, look, there’s a mini portable campfire in here,” Ryan points out. “You could always use it to make s’mores.”
Luke nods. “Well, I do like s’mores.”
“I’m the one who bought your toque, by the way, James,” Cat says. “The proceeds from it go to helping wildlife endangered by climate change in the Arctic. Plus, it’s cute!”
“It’s great,” James says, smiling.
“Pippa’s obviously behind the socks,” Ryan says. “Good one, Pips. You killed it.”
I do a double take. “Everyone saw that, right? Him complimenting me?”
“It feels weird,” Cat says. “I’m not sure I liked it.”
Ryan wraps the present he got more tightly around himself. It’s a blanket shaped like a tortilla, which we all know Beau bought because he used way too much tape. Nate had to get out a pocketknife to get the thing open.
“Wait, who bought my little zen sandbox?” I ask, looking around.
Ryan raises his hand. “I guess that process of elimination isn’t your strong suit, Pips. But what we all really want to know is how Nate’s going to use his kink box.”
“None of your business,” Nate says.
“If you need some ideas, you can always read Pippa’s newest article,” Cat tells him as she snuggles into his side.
Brinley perks up. “Oh, I read that! The article about Dom etiquette, right? It was hilarious.”
“And hot,” Luke drawls. He sounds a little drunker than he should be. “My offer still stands, you know. I’ll be one of the 12 dates, just as long as you promise to write nice things.”
“I’m not staging a date,” I say with a laugh. “It’s against my editorial integrity.”
Truthfully, if Luke weren’t Ryan’s friend, I might consider it. He’s definitely cute, and he’s got great manners when he’s not tipsy. But considering the current energy between Ryan and me, it’s just too weird.
“It doesn’t have to be staged,” Luke insists. “It can be as real as you want it to be.”
“Let it go, man,” Ryan says roughly. “She said no.”
Luke scoffs. “Come on, it’ll be fun. I want a date with the city’s most eligible disaster.”
There’s a flash of movement and a loud smack. It takes me a minute to realize that Ryan just flew off the couch and punched Luke in the face.
After a second of shock, Luke punches Ryan right back. I’m frozen to the couch as they trade punches before Nate and Beau are on their feet, pulling the guys apart. James stands in front of me and the other girls, providing a human shield.
“Luke, stop it!” Brinley yells.
“Ryan, enough,” Nate grunts, putting my stepbrother in a loose chokehold. “Are you good?”
For a moment, my stepbrother just glowers at Luke. Then he ducks his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”
Nate releases him. On the other side of the room, Beau does the same with Luke. Luke’s left eye area is already starting to swell. I’d be surprised if he didn’t have a black eye tomorrow.
“What the hell, man?” Luke demands. He straightens his shirt collar and brushes his hair back, stumbling a little as he tries to regain his dignity.
Ryan doesn’t even look at him. He strolls away from the group a few steps, his eyes fixed on the floor.
“Don’t worry,” James says quietly. “They always do this. Ryan and Luke get a little scrappy when they’ve been drinking. They’ll be fine tomorrow.”
Brinley grabs my arm with a shaking hand. “What was that?”
“I don’t know.” I grit my teeth, praying that nobody’s wondering why Ryan’s defending me all of a sudden. “He’s still drunk, maybe. Someone should probably get him to bed.”
“Maybe now’s a good time for all of us to call it,” Cat suggests. “I’m kind of tired after our flight.”
“Oh, come on, we can still hang out for a bit!” Beau smiles, but it looks brittle. “We haven’t played beer pong yet.”
“We’ve all had more than enough to drink,” Nate mutters.
I hope he’s right. If everyone’s drunk enough, maybe they’ll forget what Luke said to make Ryan punch him. In fact, we should probably get out of here before he does anything to make people even more suspicious about us.
“Maybe I should take Ryan downstairs now, so he and Luke don’t end up in the same elevator,” I tell Nate.
He nods. “Thanks, Pippa. Good idea.” I wrap my hand around Ryan’s wrist, and nobody gives us a second look as I drag him over to the elevator.
Ryan’s hands are still clenched into tight fists.
Thankfully, we don’t have to wait long for the elevator to arrive.
I jam the button for our floor, whirling on Ryan the second the doors close.
“What were you thinking?” I demand.
He doesn’t answer. He just looks up at the corner of the elevator at the security camera.
“I know you’re sober by now, so what was that?
” I push. “What, did you think you were protecting my honor or something? Luke didn’t say anything that offended me.
He was actually quoting one of my own articles when he called me the city’s most eligible disaster. So what? Why did you sucker punch him?”
Still no answer. The elevator opens onto our apartment, and Ryan storms into the dark entryway. I roll my eyes. Typical. Instead of owning up to what he did, he’d rather act like a child.
“You owe me an apology!” I demand, following a few steps behind him. “You embarrassed me, Ryan. You think our friends aren’t going to wonder why you started a fight? Because I’m not going to defend you once they—”
Ryan spins on his heel and grabs me around the waist. His long fingers dig into my lower back, his blunt fingernails catching on the fabric of my dress. He pulls me against him so tightly, it knocks the breath out of me.
“Shut up, Pippa,” he mutters, his eyes shining with something dark and terrifying. A shiver runs down my spine, and time seems to slow into long, crystalline seconds.
Then Ryan’s lips crash brutally against mine.
It knocks me so stupid, I have nothing left to say.