Chapter 58
fifty-eight
It’s been a few days since my meltdown. After getting me warm again, Logan and Brex tucked me back into bed between them.
When I woke up the next morning, I felt infinitely better. The dream my sister sent me shattered everything I’d built up inside my head, convincing myself her death was my fault. And I’ve finally come to accept that it wasn’t.
Now my boys, myself, and the rest of B-squad are enjoying a quiet evening at the fire station playing five-card draw.
With Logan, Brex, and I the only ones left in the game, the other guys are taking side bets on who’s going to walk away with the pot.
Holding my cards close to my chin, I shoot an evil grin across the table at Logan. “If I win, you both have to take one of my pole-dancing classes.”
A round of choked up laughter comes from the peanut gallery.
“Actually...” I smirk, glancing at the other guys gathered around the table . “...you’ll all take a class. Together.”
Alan, Taylor, Dave, and Kurtis all start complaining at once.
“Aww, come on!”
“What the fuck?”
“That’s bullshit!”
“Do we have to?” Dave whines.
“If they take the bet.” I shrug, shooting Logan another feral grin.
Every one of them turns to glare daggers at Logan and Brex.
Raising both hands in defense, Brex points a finger. “Don’t look at us. It was her idea.”
Lips twitching, Logan pins me with a dark stare, promising retribution.
“Alright. Bet.”
A chorus of grumbles echo from around the table, instantly cutting off when Logan narrows his eyes at them across the table, clearing his throat.
“So it’s been decided,” Taylor mutter-sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “We have no say in this?”
“Should’ve quit while we were ahead,” Kurtis grumbles, tossing his cards down on the table.
“Hey, now. Don’t get all bent out of shape quite yet,” I quip, fanning my cards to hide my smile, biting back a laugh.
“Why’s that?” Alan scoffs suspiciously.
Alan, sweet guy that he is, has eased off flirting with me now that he’s spending more time with Melody, the bartender from The Brew he met at the gala.
“Because I still need to win.”
I glance down at my cards. I’ve got an ace, king, pair of queens, and a jack. I glance up, keeping my expression as unreadable as I can manage. Which, admittedly, is not my strong suit. I’ve lost count of how many times Sasha has told me my resting poker face is the worst she’s ever seen.
Across the table, Logan studies me over the top of his cards, smirk tugging at one corner of his sexy mouth.
He definitely has a tell.
Over the course of the game, I’ve watched and studied every hand until I finally figured out his left eye twitches whenever he’s bluffing. Just like it does when he’s frustrated.
It’s subtle, barely noticeable, but once I see it, I can’t unsee it.
Brex, on the other hand, is wearing the same cocky grin he always has. Which means he’s got shit, or he’s about to clean house. Knowing him, it could be either one.
“I open,” Logan rasps, keeping eye contact as he knocks over a stack of chips into the pot.
“Call,” Brex says, dropping his chips into the pile, matching Logan’s bet.
I toss my chips in. “Call.”
The pile of chips keeps growing as Logan raises again, calm settling over his features. I study his face for any hint of a tell, but this round, he’s a brick wall. No twitch. Nadda. Just a pair of green eyes boring into me from across the table.
Kurtis gathers the chips together and taps the table. “Who’s going to draw first? Logan?”
Shit. All I need is a ten of hearts, and I’ll have myself a royal freaking flush.
Without a word, Logan slides three cards face-down over to Kurtis.
“Cap’s fishing,” Taylor snickers.
Logan doesn’t even spare him a glance. “Shut it, Tay,” he growls, snatching up his new cards.
“Brex?”
Staring down at his cards, Brex’s brow furrows deep enough to rival Logan’s. He taps his fingers against the table, chewing the inside of his cheek.
“Come on, man,” Alan urges. “Don’t be a pussy.”
“I’m contemplating my life choices right now, asshole, thank you very much,” he mutters, staring at his hand like it’ll change what he’s holding if he wills it hard enough.
“How many?” Kurtis asks.
Brex sighs dramatically before pushing two cards across the table. “Two.”
Handing him two replacements, Kurtis’s eyes land on me. “Reyna?”
Logan pops an eyebrow.
More than aware he’s trying to psych me out, I tilt my head with a small smile. “One.”
My heart does a ridiculous stutter as I hand over one of my queens and reach for my new card.
Fingers trembling, I lift the corner just enough to peek at what’s underneath.
Ten of hearts.
No. Fucking. Way.
Schooling my features, I press my lips together in a frown, attempting to keep my face from splitting into a grin giving myself away.
Logan narrows his eyes. “You’re bluffing.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yeah, well. The corners of your mouth say otherwise.”
In my peripheral, I catch the other guys’ eyes happily ping-ponging back and forth between us, enjoying the show.
Brex hums softly under his breath, tapping his cards against the table. His gaze ticks from his cards up to me, then over to Logan before his shoulders sag and he blows out a frustrated breath.
“Ah, hell.” Lips twitching, he smacks his cards face-down, shaking his head. “Fold. Y’all are nuts.”
Wait. Did Brex just throw his hand?
“Jesus, Brex,” Kurtis groans.
“Yeah, well. You’ve never seen Reyna work a pole,” Brex replies without missing a beat, shooting me a wink.
Heat creeps up my neck as Kurtis gathers Brex’s cards before squaring the pot. “Betting’s open.”
Wicked light dancing in his eyes, Logan doesn’t even blink. “Raise.”
The table lets out a collective groan.
All eyes swing toward me. I glance down at my cards, then up at Logan.
Jeez. His face might as well be carved from stone.
Yup, he’s definitely trying to psych me out.
“Call,” I say, tossing in my chips, keeping my voice even as I bare my teeth.
“Better get your stretching in, boys,” Brex tuts as he leans back in his chair. “Cuz I have a feeling you guys are going to be riding a pole.”
Another chorus of grumbles erupts.
“Dick,” Kurtis mutters, shaking his head with a grin. “My wife is gonna kill me.”
“You can bring her too,” I tease.
“No fucking way I’m gonna let my wife see me like that.”
Brex shoots me a wink before settling back to watch the show as the rest of the table goes silent in anticipation.
Logan’s grin comes slowly, and I swear I can feel the heat it’s giving off from my nipples all the way to the tips of my toes.
Faking a bored sigh, I say, “Show your cards, Captain.”
His left eye twitches. And there it is. That’s when I freaking know. I’ve won.
Logan lays his cards down, fanning them out. A pair of kings, a seven, a three, and a deuce. Not going to cut it.
“Suck it,” I announce, spreading my cards with dramatic flair.
The room erupts into chaos when everyone sees my royal flush.
“No fucking way!” Dave slams his palm on the table, causing the pile of chips to jump.
Taylor’s mouth hangs open. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“My wife is going to murder me,” Kurtis says, shaking his head with a reluctant grin.
All I get from Alan is: “Damn, that was hot.”
I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from my chest as I wrap my arms around the mountain of chips. “Better start practicing your spins, boys.”
“You cheated.” Logan huffs, crossing his sexy arms over his even sexier chest.
“The fuck you say!” I protest, stacking up my winnings into neat little piles.
Brex chuckles, flashing a shit-eating grin. “You’re going to look so pretty riding that pole, Lo.”