He had a gleam in his eyes that should have scared me. “Texas Hold Em’, just like we used to. Nothing fancy. We play until the clothes run out. Winner of each game gets to pick an article of clothing to use the rest of the week.”
“Kind of like, reverse strip poker.”
“Yup. Although if you’re more comfortable with regular strip poker, that would be fine with me.”
“Ha.”
My eyes drifted ravenously towards the gray sweatpants flung across the back of the chair. A Cowboys sweatshirt. The boxer briefs.
He held up a hand. “A few words about the underwear.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“I just grabbed this new pack at the store on the way to the cabin a couple days ago. Onlyonepair is up for grabs, I just kept them in the package so you’d believe me that they were brand new.”
A pair of his boxers meant I could have an alternate. Something to wear at night while I washed and dried my pair. Drying my pair on the heater hadn’t been bad, but this meant I wouldn’t be trapped in my room while they dried. Men’s underwear or not, I could definitely make them work.
“What do you say, Blister? You want to play?”
“How about we just cut to the chase and you just let me borrow some of this stuff right now?”
He furrowed his brow as if this were the craziest idea, goading me. “What? No handouts here, Blister. In my house, you gotta’ earn ‘em.”
“It’s not your house.”
One corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Fine.Ourhouse.”
My face flushed with his insinuation. While my heart banged around in my chest, I swallowed and pushed the conversation forward. “What are we playing with?”
He motioned to the table, toward a big jar of coins. “Found it in the dresser in my room.”
I bit my lip, unsuccessfully trying to keep myself from smiling. Walking over toward the table, I snatched the deck of cards out of his hands. “I’m dealing.”
He slapped his hands together with exaggerated gusto as we set ourselves up at the table.
Just like old times, minus the six other people at the table who acted as a buffer between me and Chase. This should be fun.
* * *
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy a good poker game. The last time Chase and I had played poker together was in high school, with my brother Matt and their friends. It had become a ritual for us. The weekend football parties at our house would usually end with a poker game or two, full of teasing and good-natured ribbing. Not being a sports fan, but desperate to remain close to my brother, I had been surprised at how much I enjoyed poker, and honestly, I had been pretty good.
It was pure luck, but I had a bit of a knack for reading people. It was the writer in me. I was always watching for clues in the faces at the table to see just what their hands might hold. I had begun to get a reputation among the guys as the one to beat. I left many tables with the night’s winnings, more often than not. The only person to really give me a run for my money was Chase Riley.
We slipped easily into the game, picking up as naturally as if we’d just played last week. Only this time, instead of lunch money, old boy clothes were the prize. A thick and soft sweatshirt, sweatpants, socks, t-shirts, basketball shorts, and even boxer briefs. Nothing had ever looked better to me. My body could feel the clothes wrapped around me, cocooning me in warmth and comfort; but first, I needed to win.
“Alright, Blister,” he began, while he shuffled the worn deck of cards, “You remember how to play?”
“Just like riding a bike.”
His head shot upward. “Like the bike ride where you biffed it, coming in hot to the little league game when we were kids?”
I snorted out a laugh before I could stop myself. A quick glance at Chase showed he was pleased with his efforts to tease me. Luckily, the crash and burn on my bike had been more crash and less burn, but I had unfortunately taken out several little leaguers at the expense of my negligence.
“Should we make this interesting?” Chase sat poised, with the cards in his hands about ready to deal, his eyes on me.
I motioned to the clothes strewn about the room. “I thought we already were.”
He shook his head. “We have something for the winner, but nothing for the loser.”