Page 57 of House Rules
“Hell, yeah, we should,” I agree. Usually we play straight poker, but I’ve never actually seen Phoenix completely naked. Even that time I stumbled in on her and Con having sex, his body was unfortunately blocking my view of most of hers. That needs to change. Now.
Atticus turns his contemplative gaze on our girl. “What do you say, Phoenix? Up for the challenge?”
Phoenix hugs herself and glances at the black water surrounding us, dotted with little glimmers of moonlight. “I’m more than willing to kick all of your asses,” she says. “As long as we do it inside. Ithink it’ll be a little chilly out here if we start removing clothes.”
Instantly I think about shrinkage. “Good thinking.”
We head inside and make ourselves comfortable at the games table the den is equipped with, along with a massive, cushy leather sofa, big screen television, sound system, and wet bar. Phoenix’s gaze flits from one luxury to the next, and she gives a little snort before beginning to examine the hand Storm has dealt her.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing. It’s all just a little…” She waves a hand, encompassing the room and everything in it. “Much.”
“How do you mean?” Con squints at her over his own cards. “Draw.”
She shifts in her seat, then pulls a card. “You have…I don’t know…three spaces exactly like this on this boat. And seven bedrooms. Why do you need so many?”
It’s a reminder that our lifestyle is not hers; it never has been. Unbidden, the memory of Con’s father telling us how he’d taken the liberty of informingher he would be cutting off his son’s allowance and credit cards surfaces. She had run for the hills afterward, and Con attributed it to greed and disappointment that he would no longer be able to give her all the things…but something about that had always bothered me.
In the time she’s been with us, our overt displays of wealth and excess have made her uncomfortable instead of excited. She saves her leftovers and reheats them, washes her own dishes, and the other day I heard her muttering that there was no way she was paying twenty-four dollars to watch a movie on Prime, right before she turned the TV off.
She doesn’t act like any of the other money-hungry people we’ve been acquainted with.
“Gotta spend the money on something,” Con answers.
Phoenix shakes her head. “You could donate to charity.”
Atticus rolls his eyes. “We already donate a pile of money to charity. It’s a tax write-off.”
“Or you could…set up an animal shelter or something.”
Con lifts a brow. “An animal shelter?”
“There are so many strays out there. They need homes and care, just like people do.”
I lean forward, putting my elbows on the table. “Do you have a pet, Phoenix?”
She shakes her head, almost violently. “No. No, I didn’t have the funds to take care of an animal. I used to feed this little dog, though, before I took this job…” Her voice trails away for a moment, and then she straightens in her chair, her spine stiffening. “I liked him.”
The hand ends, with Atticus the winner. I think the rest of us were too distracted to concentrate. I take off my shirt, enjoying the way Phoenix’s eyes hone in immediately on my chest, and flex my pecs.
Heat rises in her cheeks. “Stop that.”
I flex again. “Take something off, Phoenix.”
She leans back, eyes glittering with mischief. “You first.”
And fuck if that doesn’t do something to me.
We all wait, breath held, as she considers her options. Finally, she lifts a hand and pulls the elasticband from her hair. It tumbles around her shoulders, thick, wavy strands of a coppery caramel color.
A collective groan murmurs around the table, and I meet Storm’s eyes. “Gonna be a long game,” he says.
“My deal,” Phoenix says simply. She picks up the deck of cards and begins shuffling.
Twenty minutes later, none of the Titans are wearing shirts or shorts, except Atticus.
“Where’d that come from?” I ask. “I’ve seen you play poker only once or twice, and it was not with that degree of skill.”
