Page 7 of Maverick
He shrugs. “When I get around to it.”
He throws his cigarette onto the ground and grinds it beneath his boot. He takes his time moving away from me, as he prowls off into the darkness.
It’s really the only term for the way he moves. Like a cat.
I spend the rest of the cool-down thinking about what he said. I wish that I wasn’t thinking about it, but I can’t escape it.
Something is going to kill you.
That’s the bottom line. The truth. Colt had been riding bulls for years, and then he had one bad ride. Just one bad ride. That thought has burrowed its way into my head, and I can’t get out. I think about it the whole way to the poker game.
Of course, the poker game goes about like my ride. Three hands in and I’m losing badly, and I really don’t have any more money to keep on betting, but I want to.
That’s when Maverick shows up. That dark cloud that seems to follow him everywhere he goes coming in with him. The man is a whole thundercloud, complete with lightning.
“Still looking for another player?”
“You have a steep buy-in,” Holt says.
“I can afford it.”
I’m sure that he can. Not only has he been doing this a lot longer than the rest of us, he’s had a lot of endorsement deals over the years. He’s hot. He doesn’t have that boy-next-door, easy, accessible vibe that Colt has. No. He’s dangerous.
And I’m thinking too much about his looks again.
“How much?”
“Up to a thousand,” Holt says.
“Okay,” says Maverick, like it’s the silliest thing he’s ever heard, and he digs into his wallet and pulls out a few bills. I’ve got nothing but IOUs in the pot.
We deal the next hand, five-card draw, and my hand is actually looking pretty good. It’s a risk, but it’s one that I’m willing to take.
“I’ll make a bet,” Maverick says, placing a hefty bet that makes my eyes water.
Holt lets out a low whistle. “I raise you.”
“I call,” says Cade.
“Me too,” I say.
“I raise you,” Holt says.
Then I realize that I have to put a bet in. Or fold. I don’t want to quit with Maverick there, and something reckless fires through my veins. Like all the angst of the last few weeks – from Colt to my sister’s engagement, to the relentless feeling of time slipping by – possesses me and makes me feel like I have nothing to lose.
Something’s going to kill you.
“I fold,” Cade says.
“I’ll raise,” I say. “I bet me.”
I’m tired of being a sad virgin anyway, and Holt is hot. Maverick is hot. So… Either one of them can do the honors if they feel like it.
It feels less deadly than my fixation on Maverick for some reason. That I’m leaving it up to chance. This is crazy, and I know it is, but I feel crazy. I’ve missed this, honestly, this intense need to dosomethingthat takes over me sometimes. It makes me feel alive in a way nothing else does, and it’s never been this, and maybe I’m losing it, but…
I’d rather do this than do nothing.
I’d rather be unhinged than bored.
