Page 38 of King of Players

Abel chuckled. “Oh, come on. Let’s not.”

I turned to him and smirked. “What—I have nothing to hide.”

His eyes slightly glared in a way only I could decipher. “It’s not always about you.”

The message was received. “Well, it’s nothing worth mentioning, anyway. What’s a fling in the grand life of Chad Niles?”

Dean seemed amused. “At least tell me you’re getting slightly more adventurous? Anything out of the realm of models and actresses would count as refreshing.”

Snorting, my eyes lingered on Abel for a second before I turned to Dean. “As if. You wish you had my life, Ocean Boy.”

“Do I, now?” Dean dropped a couple of ice cubes into his glass. “I don’t know.” Adding a pensive gaze to his eyes, he continued to stare at his drink, shaking it ever so slightly. “I don’t think any woman can replace the fantasy I’ve built in my head over the years.”

“And that’s precisely where your problem lies.” I pointed a finger.

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Oh, now I have a problem. Enlighten me.”

“You’re too picky,” I argued. “And coming from me? That’s saying something.”

Nathan came to Dean’s rescue. “You’re picky with aesthetics, while he’s—

“Right.” I nodded. “Lay it on me. By all means, reduce me to a stereotype.”

“I don’t mean that. It’s just that Dean—”

“He can speak for himself.” I raised a hand, turning back to Dean. “Can you honestly tell me that you’re happy living this hermit life between your house with mom and your solitary sea trips? What are you waiting for, a mermaid?”

“I’m not waiting for anything,” Dean protested. “I guess it’s difficult for you to imagine that a man can be happy living the single life. And we’re not all the same and we shouldn’t be. Can you imagine what a boring world that would be?”

Turning to look at Nathan, I blamed him with my eyes. If it weren’t for his question, we wouldn’t have ended up here.

Abel, assuming the role of the father in the group, decided to save the night by changing the subject.

fifteen

Introspection

Kaira

A few days later, I stepped out onto the terrace with a cup of coffee. My hand touched the cigarette case and lighter in the pocket of my loose linen pants, but stopped as soon as Miriam came out. I saw her eyes make the leap quick enough before she cleared her throat. “Nice weather today. Think we should set up out here?”

Relaxing my shoulders, I held up the coffee mug just enough for my nostrils to catch a whiff of its invigorating aroma. “Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “I think so. After all, we’re discussing Gibran. Nature sounds like the perfect setting.” Turning to her, I smiled. “Did you manage to finish The Prophet?”

“I did,” she proudly said. “I also think I gained just a little bit of wisdom now to tell you that you don’t need to hide your smoking from me. I’m not your grandmother.”

Tittering, I tried to mask the awkwardness. Not only was it bad enough that I didn’t know exactly why the rapidly growing habit was embarrassing, but technically, Miriam worked for me. I shouldn’t have felt the need to hide from her in my own house. “Maybe I’m using you as an excuse to smoke less.”

“Can I bum one off you?” she cheerfully asked.

Pulling the items out of my pocket, I handed them to her while gazing away at the garden. “Knock yourself out.”

I heard the click of the lighter and smelled the smoke. That was when she said, “You know? Not all bad habits deserve to be butchered.”

My chuckle preceded my comment. “Grandma would’ve suspected you were trying to kill me.”

“Sometimes, we all need an outlet. Who would have thought that I’d be smoking out here, in the Bradley house, of all places?”

“Ever tried to quit?” I turned to look at her.

---