Skyler
I stare at Kip’s text when I’m fully dressed, debating if I should actually meet him or just crawl back into the hot bathtub.
His message is the only one I’ve looked at, choosing to ignore the multitude of other texts and calls until the morning when I can face them.
They’ll all want answers, they’ll want to know what happened, they’ll want to congratulate me on second place even when they’re secretly wondering why the hell I didn’t take first.
Only Kip and I know that.
I’m already late, if I do want to meet him, but I still don’t rush.
Instead, I sit on the bed, replaying the night.
I close my eyes, see Kip sitting across from me, see his eyes widen when I go all in with a pair of black fours on the table.
It’s my cursed hand in poker. He and I both knew it was over right then, but what he doesn’t know is that was the exact moment I realized it didn’t matter.
The title didn’t matter.
The only thing that did was him.
The second-place check is plenty to pay off my tuition, set my family up, and then some. It was what I came for. The title would have just been a bonus for me, a decorative medal for my ego. But to Kip? It was everything.
So, I went from being his opponent to being his teammate, and we won the tournament together — for his dad.
I sigh, opening my eyes again to stare at the black television screen hanging above the desk. Not even an hour ago, I watched Kip’s face fill that screen, his eyes tired but his smile wide as he talked to the reporter.
“I’m not really sure how I feel just yet,” he’d said, laughing.
It was a charming laugh that I was sure was melting panties across the country.
“I just…” He’d paused, biting down on his bottom lip and looking up for a second to compose himself. “I just want to dedicate this to my father, Oliver Jackson Sr. Thank you for sacrificing your dream so that I could have mine. I didn’t win this tournament today. You did. I love you.”
The announcers went on and on about Kip’s dad and his condition and I wondered how they found out.
Did Kip reveal it in one of his pre-tournament interviews?
Had they been talking about it while we were at the final table?
Regardless, I know one thing is certain — this will make for one of the best headlines in the tournament’s history.
FISH TAKES HOME GRAND PRIZE, HONORS FATHER WITH WIN.
I smile, finally standing and inhaling a long, slow breath. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”
I take my time making my way downstairs, and don’t rush as I walk the Strip to the Bellagio.
It’s not too far from the Aria, and my stomach flips with every step as I let myself overthink what he wants to talk about.
Does he want to know if I threw the tournament?
Does he want to know if I’m okay after the loss?
Does he want to tell me he still loves me, that he wants to be with me?
I shake the possibility from my head, trying to remind myself that everything between us was just a game for him. It was a means to an end, and even if I still love him — and perhaps, always will — it doesn’t mean he feels the same.
And that’s okay.
For once, I’m not asking what’s in this for me. For once, I care about someone else’s happiness more than mine.
To me, that’s what love really is.
The strip is alive as I walk toward the fountain, the lights bright and energy buzzing.
Groups pass me in a blur, smiles and laughter blending together with the distant dings from the slot machines to create the Vegas symphony.
I just smile, tucking my hands in my pockets and scanning the crowd for Kip.
A warm breeze tickles my neck when I find him, and suddenly my feet are lead. All I can do is stand and stare.
He’s facing the fountain, his shoulders slumped like he’s convinced himself I’m not going to show. His hair is mussed, and even from the back, I spy the black frames of his glasses — those stupid glasses that proved to be such a weakness for me.
Kip turns, looking over the shoulder farthest from me, his face searching the crowd. When he turns over the other one, his eyes catch on mine just as another breeze whips through my hair.
A minute stretches between us, dancing like a year, with his diamond blue eyes locked on mine.
My breaths are shallow but steady, and I finally force my feet to move, carrying me toward him without our gaze ever breaking. He stands straighter as I make my way toward him, wiping his palms on his dark jeans. He’s nervous, and suddenly, I am, too.
When I’m just a few feet in front of him, Kip’s face washes over like a ghost, like he can’t find a single word to say now that I’m here. So, I let out a breath, and I say the first word.
“Hi.”
My voice is barely above a whisper, but it visibly stabilizes Kip. He finally breathes again, though his eyes are still heavy, never leaving mine.
“Hi.”
I tuck the blowing strands of my hair behind my ear, chewing the inside of my lip. “Congratulations,” I finally offer, smiling a little.
“Thanks.”
He returns the smile, but it doesn’t stick, doesn’t warm me from the inside out like his smiles used to do. Instead, it settles us into a long moment of silence, the two of us standing and staring, not knowing what to do.
Kip shoves his hands into his pockets, shaking his head just slightly as his eyes continue to search mine, like he’s sure he’ll find all the answers there. “Skyler…” He says my name like a curse. “Why did you do it?”
My heart skips a beat before kicking back into gear, but I don’t let an ounce of emotion show on my face.
“Do what?”
“Don’t make me say it. You know what.”
I shrug. “Maybe I was trying to have more faith in our lucky number.”
“You knew before he even dealt those fours in the flop that I had a pocket pair. Don’t act like you didn’t,” Kip says, his eyes level. Then, his brows bend together, his eyes still on mine. “Why did you let me win?”
I sigh, crossing my arms over my middle. “Because, Kip,” I say, wishing I didn’t have to explain. It was easy to make the decision, but to defend it? Not so much. “I knew you wanted this for your dad, and, frankly you deserved it.”
“And you didn’t?”
“I didn’t say that.” I huff, anger surging up inside me.
Can’t he see it? Can’t he see the real reason I made the decision I did?
“My reasons for wanting to win were no better than yours,” he says, stepping a little closer. “Skyler, this was important to you and your family.”
“Well, maybe it wasn’t as important to me as you!” I yell, and as soon as the words leave my mouth, I know there’s no going back now.
A few bystanders glance our way before skittering apart, and I shift my weight, pulling a strand of hair between my fingers. I don’t want to look at Kip, don’t want to see his face after what I just said, but I can’t look anywhere else.
“Are you saying you’re not important to me?”
“No,” I answer. “I’m saying you didn’t have a choice.
I did. The runner-up prize is plenty for me to pay off school and set my family up, Kip.
” I shake my head, still playing with my hair.
“And even if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t matter.
You did this for your dad, for his dying wish.
If it were me in your shoes, I know you would have done the same. ”
Silence.
I can’t take my eyes off his, no matter how badly I want to find comfort in staring anywhere else but at him. His blue pools are wide with wonder, like he can’t believe I would do that for him.
Like he can’t believe I’m real.
“So, what does this mean?” he finally asks.
I shrug. “I don’t know. It means you won and I lost, I guess.”
“I don’t know if I agree with that.”
His answer is so quick, so sure, that I can’t do anything other than tilt my head as I try to digest it.
“I may have won the tournament,” he breathes, taking another small step toward me. “But did I lose you?”
For the first time tonight, I let myself look at the ground and away from him. My heart thumps hard in my chest, the beats echoing in my ears.
“I don’t know where we go from here, Kip,” I whisper, tears stinging behind my eyes. “I don’t know if we can come back from this. We lied. Both of us. We played games and even though all the cards are on the table now, I don’t know if this is a game we can finish playing and still survive.”
I look up just in time to see Kip’s bottom lip quiver as he looks up to the sky, willing himself not to give into his emotions. Slowly, he levels his gaze with me again, his chest deflating on a long breath.
“I’m sorry, Skyler. For everything,” he says, voice raspy and desperate.
“And I know those two words won’t do anything to heal the fucking hole I’ve punched in you, but I mean them.
And if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making sure you know that nothing in this world is more important to me than you are. Nothing.”
He pauses, debating his next words as I try to swallow the ones he just said.
Did he just say the rest of his life? As in, forever? As in…
“You’ve changed everything about my life,” he says, pulling me out of my head and back to the moment.
“Every dream I thought I had means nothing to me now if you’re not a part of them, too.
I’ve never opened myself up to love, I’ve never let anything get in the way of my career.
But you came in and turned all that into nothing.
You obliterated everything I thought was important.
All that matters to me, Skyler, is you.”
My heart flutters to life, like a hot air balloon being fired up into the sky. But my biggest insecurities are still standing on top of it, digging their heels in, and I let them win as my eyes fall to the ground again.
“How do I know what was real and what wasn’t? How do I know when you were getting to know me because you wanted to, as opposed to when you were just playing a game?”