Page 1 of Bad Love

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“Ten. Thousand. Women.”

“There won’t be ten thousand women in Ibiza next month.” Tanner tosses two chips into the center of the green felttable.

The gold crown Nellie's too young for glints as his hand flexes on his cards. The pendant light over the table shines on his scalp through the buzzcut he’s had as long as I’ve known him. “Tell him,Hunter.”

“It feels like it,” I say,grinning.

The annual trip involves a yacht, models, and enough booze to sink a pirate ship. It’s a beautiful week of partying. But more than that, it’s about living life to the fullest. No worries, no responsibilities, just old friends and newones.

Did I mention there’s enough booze to sink a pirateship?

“And these women have Ivy League educations?” Tanner asks dryly, lifting a brow under his mop of blondhair.

“Women can’t score free rides on football scholarships,” I retort. Tanner played two years of a pro contract before an injury sidelined him. “Besides, life isn’t about going to a good school, it’s about what you do withit.”

“True. You have an Ivy League education, and look where it gotyou.”

I flip him the bird, but only half my attention is on the conversation because there’s an evolving situation in my poker hand. I need one more card to make thiswork.

Poker isn’t a game of statistics. It’s a game of possibility. Ofcreativity.

Plus, the winner takes home a couple grand. If there aren’t stakes, whyplay?

“Even if there were that many women on your debaucherous little trip,” Tanner goes on, shrugging thick shoulders under his polo, “you can’t please them all. Genghis Kahn couldn’t please that manywomen.”

I shoot him a look over the top of my cards. “You’re anexpert?”

“You might’ve sent sorority girls stumbling home with lazy smiles every morning,” he retorts, “but I’ve been married five years. You’re still playing poker in thisdump.”

I shift in my seat, taking in the windowless concreteroom.

There's no clock, and phones get checked by the door. Both add to the impression we're in a bunker, or that Bill Murray movieGroundhogDay.

The bar fridge holds our drinks. A pile of snacks sits in a reusable grocery bag next to it. (Plastic kills birds in the Pacific. We’re notcretins.)

A poster of some car magazine chick from our parents' generation watches from behind Nellie'schair.

Nellie calls her his lucky angel. I call her Janie, because I was raised right and no man should see that much of a woman without knowing hername.

"Thereisa penthouse in this hotel, Nellie." I nod for Nellie to turn the nextcard.

"Yeah, but it's too good for youpricks."

That ten of hearts gives me a full house. My pulse quickens, the thrill of winning so close I can tasteit.

"Wasn't too good for me and your cousin after your brother's wedding.” I toss my raise across the table, avoiding the plate of caviar. “She loved the curtains your mom ordered from Paris. Said they gave her something to hang onto.”

Nellie’s face goes purple. “You’re an asshole, LoganHunter.”

I chuckle as I reach for my beer. Nellie calls my bet and shows his hand. "Twopair."

"Fullhouse."

Nellie curses, and I sweep thetable.

Tanner shakes his head. "Your parents must be proud. Two of the biggest self-made families in New York, and your achievement is winning at Thursday poker. You assholes are never gonna growup.”

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