Page 58 of Honey Pot

“SoanyHornet I want?” I questioned Cael.

“Within reason.” He shrugged. “Best to leave Van alone unless you wanna wrestle Sour Patch in the pudding pool outback.”

“I mean, that could be—“A hard slap stifled Van’s comment.

“Any Hornet.”

My eyes widened as I pulled back to look at him. I hadn’t expected that.

“Anyone?” I asked as my lips started to curl.

He nodded, and I picked up my hand, eyes lingering on Cael before I checked it.

“I wanthim.” I looked up from my cards, eyes landing on Dean Tucker, and felt Cael tense beside me. He had expected me to pick him, but I had seen his hands all over that girl on the stairs. His mind and hands wandered. Why couldn’t mine?

A punishment suited to the crime.

The question was, would Dean play with him as the stakes?

Cael looked over at him, all the color leaving his face for a second, as Dean continued to glare at me. The tension in the room rose the longer Dean remained silent, but Cael exhaled a heavy breath as he finally spoke.

“Fine,” he bit back. “But don’t get your hopes up."

MATTHEWS

Imay have been terrible at hitting baseballs, but I could play a hand of poker if the stakes were good, and they had never been higher. We played six rounds. Every round came down to Dean and me, staring each other down, waiting for the card to drop. He had won two rounds, but I was up and, if I won this one, which I would, I would win the bargain. I could tell he wasn’t amused, but it didn’t matter.

Cael didn’t question my decision. He had walked himself into a corner, and he was willing to sit like a good boy and watch the situation unfold. But he was fidgeting. His fingers traced lazy circles up and down my thigh, and I knew his hand was a bust by the way they paused as Ella dealt the next card.

Dean was harder to read, and Van had nothing; I could tell by the way he kept nervously shifting in his seat. Zoey, though, was his biggest tell. Leaning over his shoulder, she continuously brushed her fingers through his hair with a disappointed look on her face.

When I turned to look at Ella, she just raised an eyebrow at me, as if to saythis is why I don’t play anymore. It was like playing with a table of toddlers.

“Three of a kind,” Dean laid his cards out, three eights.

I looked down at my cards, feigning disappointment as Van laid down his garbage hand, and Cael followed with nothing but a subtle groan.

Ella had dropped a ten on the table and won the round for me with the flick of her wrist.

“Does four tens beat three eights?” I tilted my head to the side. “I’m just a bat bunny so I’m not really goodat math.”

“There’s math in poker?” Van asked, confused, and Zoey tugged on his mullet gently. “That would explain why I’m so bad at it.”

“How drunk are you?” Zoey giggled and kissed the lines of his confused face as the rest of us sat waiting for someone to make a move.

Dean pushed his cards to the center of the table and stood. He then walked around to my side of the table, stopping beside Cael, who seemed to stop breathing.

“You won.” He held out his hand to me. “You don’t have a card up your sleeve, do you?”

“Do you wanna pat me down and check?” I asked, pulling open the front of my jersey to expose the swell of my breast in the bra.

Cael grunted, choking on his own spit.

All of a sudden the air shifted. Before it felt like I was in control, punishing Cael for being a shit head, but I could see that Dean had needed it more than I ever did. I licked my lip and winked. “No sleeves.”

“Fair point.” He linked his hand in mine. “You never specified what you wanted me for.”

“A dance.” I smiled and felt Cael deflate beside me with relief.

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