Page 20 of Fight or Flight
Shane just smiles serenely at Cody. “Like I said, that was a good hand. Just not good enough.”
Cody splutters something as Shane rakes the massive pile of chips toward himself, and his face goes a bit purple when Shane calmly starts organizing the pile into neat stacks in front of him.
The guys all start ribbing Cody about being the first one out, and I glance around the table. No one else seems to have noticed Shane’s little trick—or the fact that he just cheated.
“You want to buy in?” Paxton asks as Cody gets up and stomps out of the room.
“No way,” Dan shakes his head emphatically. “You can’t add a fresh player after we’ve already started. It’ll fuck everything up and give him an advantage.”
“He’s right,” Paxton says, a hint of an apology in his voice. “Sorry, man.”
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “I’m good watching.”
“I bet you are,” Shane mumbles as he places the last of his chips onto a tall stack.
“What was that?” I ask Shane, my tone light and breezy.
He meets my gaze and gives me a little smirk. “Nothing.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yup.”
“Are you two still mortal enemies?” Dan looks between Shane and me. “This has to be a record for how long you’ve been in the same room without things devolving into violence.”
I shoot him a grin. “Mortal enemies sounds so dramatic. I’d say we’re more like frenemies, right, Shaney?”
“Bite me,” he grumbles.
“Only if you ask nicely.” I waggle my eyebrows at him in an exaggerated way that makes the rest of the guys laugh.
Everyone in the house, and most people at school, know I hook up with both men and women, and they’re used to my jokes. For a school full of rich assholes who live within the walls of one of the world’s most exclusive secret societies in the world, people here are a lot less uptight about sexuality than what I had to deal with at my old boarding school.
It makes my life easier, and it also makes fucking with Shane easier, which is a win-win in my book.
“Don’t you have something heavy to lift or someone you need to annoy the fuck out of?” Shane asks.
“Why would I have something heavy to lift?” I ask, pretending to be confused by what he said. “That’s a very specific thing to try and insult me with.”
“Like weights or something…” He glances around the table, almost like he’s searching for an ally or someone to back up what he said. “Because you’re…”
“I’m what?” I ask with as much fake sweetness that I can muster.
He glares at me, his jaw working as he obviously bites back whatever retort he wants to say.
I grin at him. “Because I’m in incredible shape and I could bench you without breaking a sweat?”
“Ooooh, shots fired,” Paxton crows.
“Fuck off with that shit. You couldn’t bench me.” Shane levels another glare at me.
“How much do you weigh?” I ask.
“More than you can bench,” he shoots back.
“You sure about that? Because I’m lifting three-forty,” I say casually. “That seems like it might be a tad heavier than you.”
“Bullshit. I don’t believe you.”
