Page 16 of A Sin So Pure

But when they all drop their cards, it’s Josie who has the winning hand. She swipes the chips into her pile, making her an even match with Leo. The others groan, shoving their chairs back and moving on to nurse their wounded pride with alcohol.

“That’s not fair,” Leo cries, pointing at Josie’s cards.

“You’re getting too cocky,” Josie tuts. She taps her temple. “Remember who you’re dealing with.”

“Oh, you little cheat,” he growls. It’s all in good fun though, his gap-toothed smile never wavering. “You said I couldn’t use my magic, but you’re using yours?”

Josie shrugs. “I said not to influence anyone’s emotions, not that you can’t read them.”

Our friends bicker back and forth as I slowly round the table. All the while, Nora watches me like a hawk. When I pause behind her, I lean forward and speak softly into her ear.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you lose this bad.”

She snorts, tilting her head towards mine. “I knew early on it wasn’t going to go my way.”

“So, you tried to get the others out to help Josie?”

“Don’t tell Leo.”

“Oh, trust me, I won’t. He’s a sore loser.”

I straighten and her gaze continues to track me. Her head tilts up, while mine tilts down, my hair creating a blond barrier on either side of the two of us. Her lips quirk, the action making my throat bob with nervous energy.

“Want to leave?” I ask.

“Didn’t you just get here?” she asks in turn.

I shrug. “I meant the poker table. I saw some others playing backgammon by the couch.”

“I’m tired of playing games.”

“We can watch.”

Nora contemplates for a moment, then, a switch flips. She pushes her chair back, throws her last chips onto Josie’s pile, and takes my hand in hers.

“You better take him for all he’s worth,” she says as she pulls me away.

“Good luck!” I say.

“Mo, you traitor. You’re supposed to be on my side!” Leo calls after us.

I giggle as Nora leads us to the living area. The music coming from the gramophone is louder here; a soft but peppy jazz croons from the brass horn and wooden box where a record spins.

We stop in front of an armchair where an underclassman sits, intensely focused on the backgammon game being played on the coffee table.

“Get up,” Nora orders.

“I was here first. Go find your own seat,” the underclassman scoffs. His attention lazily shifts from the board game to us, and when his eyes land on Nora, they widen. His whole body goes still, and his mouth gapes open.

Nora cocks a perfectly penciled-in brow.

“Maybe try that again,” she says, the threat clear in her voice.

She doesn’t need to repeat herself, because the boy is up and out of the chair before she can even finish the sentence.

“Sorry about that,” the underclassman fumbles. “I was going to grab a new drink, anyway.” He pauses, glancing down at the full glass in his hand. He quickly throws it back, coughing when it goes down the wrong pipe. Then, he squeaks out, “Do you two need anything? Actually, let me go get you something anyway.”

He scurries away, but Nora’s already over it, simply sitting down in the chair with the grace of a queen. She tugs my hand, pulling me into her lap.

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