Page 17 of Poker
“Feel better?” he asks.
“A little,” I say, pinching my thumb and forefinger together. “I just don’t get it. He’s been playing for over a year, and you’ve been here almost every game he’s at. Why does he have a problem all of a sudden?”
“He’s just jealous.”
I scoff. “Of what?”
Poker smirks.
“Of the way you look at me when you think no one is watching.”
CHAPTER9
POKER
Meri is a confident woman, and I kinda love that I’m throwing her off balance.
Meri’s pupils dilate,and she ducks her head. I know my comment is throwing her off balance, but I’d rather that than her anger. I’ve got enough of that surging through my veins for both of us.
At church this morning, I discussed Neero with the club. I’d already had Tracer dig into the other players’ backgrounds, and none of them are squeaky clean. But Neero is another story. While I wouldn’t have put him in the threat category, he’s certainly got some questionable business practices.
His attitude last night changed my perspective. Meri has always garnered respect and held her ground, but I could tell he rattled her. And now she has this note signed ‘N’. The only logical conclusion is that it’s from Neero.
“And what way is that?” she asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Like you want to lick me like a lollipop,” I deadpan.
Her eyes widen, and her cheeks infuse with color. “Well, that was… specific.”
“Yet you don’t deny it.”
Meri holds my gaze for a beat and then turns away. “Poker, I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that,” she says as she moves back toward the mop bucket.
I snag her by the wrist and force her to face me again. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend like there’s nothing here.”
What the fuck am I doing?
“We’re friends.”
“Yeah, we are.”
“What do you want from me?”
It’s a fairly simple question, but the answer is infinitely more complicated. I want so much from her that it eats me up inside. But I also started this flirting to distract myself from my anger, so I didn’t scare her.
I drop her arm and thrust a hand through my hair. “I want you to be honest with me,” I settle on saying. “It’s clear that that note rattled you, so why are you trying like hell to make me think otherwise?”
“Maybe I am rattled,” she says. “But I’m a big girl, Poker. I can take care of myself.”
“How many times do I have to tell you that I never thought you couldn’t?” I snap, annoyed.
“I… What do you want from me?” she groans.
“I want you to let me be your friend. Talk to me when something is bothering you. Ask me for help if you need it. Just… let me in a little.”
