“Deal the cards,” I said. For the freaking love, I had to win. For all womanhood and mankind in general. For every woman who had ever lost to a conceited, arrogant, attractive jerk, I had to win.
In the end, however, I lost. I was sitting much worse than I was before we started the blasted game. I still had no sweatpants, and I would be doing dishes all week. Chase couldn’t even bring himself to tease me about losing seven games in a row, and the idea that Chase could possibly be feeling sorry for me, made it a thousand times worse.
“Double or nothing.”
I thought I dreamed his words for a moment. His hand slipped into mine and he tugged it toward him, forcing me to lift my defeated head off my arms and meet his eyes. I fully expected smugness, but instead I found… sweetness? No, that couldn’t be right.
“What?”
“Double or nothing.” That’s what I thought he said. There had to be a catch.
“What’s the terms?” I asked, warily pulling my hand out of his grasp.
“One more game. This time we play Five Card Draw. If you win, you can pick two of my things.”
My eyes narrowed. “And if you win?”
“I get a back massageandyou clean and cook our dinner.”
I dropped my head back onto my arms on the table, ignoring him. Okay, so he obviously wasn’t feeling as sorry for me as I had imagined. Out of the whole morning, all I had received were a lousy pair of boxer briefs and two pairs of socks, already on my feet. Both had been a mercy donation. I had nothing to lose. When I let myself imagine massaging his back, my stomach flipped over before I refused to think about it anymore.
“I mean, seven in a row… odds are probably in your favor,” he baited.
When I still refused to move, he added, “I’ll just have a hard time sleeping at night, tucked away in all these clothes…”
“Deal em.”
“You serious?” He nudged my foot under the table.
I looked up at him and nodded. “Deal the cards.”
“You remember that I said a thirty-minute back rub, and cooking dinner was on the line.”
“Ten minutes.”
“Twenty.”
“Fifteen.”
“Deal.”
“And I prefer my salmon cut thin with a crispy skin on top. A little lemon juice on the side.”
“And I prefer you as a seventh grader, when you were too cool to talk to me.”
“Ew. You prefer me as a seventh grader?”
“Shut up.” I kicked him under the table and turned my face away to hide the evidence of my smile.
He smiled as he dealt the cards. I bit my lip, holding off the grin clambering to break free. I waited until all five cards were dealt and in front of me, before I drew them into my hand. My breath stilled as I immediately pulled a pair of sevens and two fives. A single Jack of hearts finished out my hand. I tamped down my excitement. Though they weren’t high cards, they were pairs, and better than anything I had been given in our last seven games.
Chase quietly studied his hand for a minute. “How many are you trading?”
I shoved the down-facing Jack toward him, mustering up an air of superiority. “One.”
He stared at me for a long moment, his eyebrow cocked. “You bluffing or playing, Blister?”
“I guess you’ll find out.”