Page 53 of Blindside Sinner

So I nod. “Fine. I’m in.”

He nods to Brent, who lays out the rest of the cards. Seven of hearts, four of spades, nine of clubs, three of clubs. I still have… not a damn thing.

One glance at Beck tells me he has a hell of a lot more than that. He’s grinning like a lunatic.

I bite my lip as I wait for the final card to come down. Brent pulls it… flips it…

Ace of diamonds.

“Boom, baby!” Beck cries out, cackling as he throws his hand face up and takes off on a victory lap around the room.

Bastard.He was holding two aces. With the one on the table, that makes three of a kind.

He wins.

I lose.

I’ve still got a lot of money to be happy about. But something tells me I’m going to seriously regret this.

The rest of the night passes in a blur. We all chat for a while, then everyone starts to trickle out one by one with hugs and promises of calls tomorrow.

When we’re finally alone, Beck looks at me. It’s late. He’s probably waiting for me to get the hell out so he can go to bed. They have an afternoon game tomorrow, meaning their normal six a.m. skate has been pushed back to nine, so the late night isn’t such a big deal.

But to my surprise, he offers his elbow. “Come on. I’ll walk you to the apartment.”

I frown. It’s across the yard, not exactly a dangerous trek. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Relax,” he says again. “I won’t bite. I’m being a gentleman for a change. You should be positively reinforcing this behavior.”

He’s got a point there. I’m still frowning, but I reluctantly take his elbow and let him walk me to the back door. We slip out into the night.

It’s cool but refreshing outside. There are stars overhead splashed across an indigo sky and the cicadas are humming in the hedges like our own little orchestra. We walk across the lawn, neither one of us saying a word. I hear his breathing, his footsteps, smell his cologne and the spice of the bourbon he likes lingering on the edge of it.

When we get to my door, he stops and turns to face me. It has that awkward, end-of-a-first-date feeling, but with an extra electric sizzle I can’t name or explain.

“You never told me the favor,” I say suddenly, taking myself by surprise.

He nods. “I know.”

“I can’t do a favor until you say what it is.”

“I know. I think I’m gonna rain check this one. Hang onto it until a later date.” His voice is quiet, raspy, without his usual pop and snark in it. The sizzle dancing on my skin intensifies.

I shrug one shoulder. “Suit yourself.”

That’s the natural endpoint for the evening. My door is literally inches away. All I have to do is go inside and I can be rid of him for a few blissful hours.

So why am I still here? Why ishestill here? Why are we both standing in place, staring at each other’s eyes, holding our breath like we don’t want to disturb whatever fragile moment this is?

If there’s an answer to those questions, I definitely don’t know it.

Then he coughs and the fragile moment breaks. I shiver, like the cold just rushed into our little bubble. Beck takes a half-turn away from me, one step toward the house, then pivots back. He looks good in the moonlight, I notice. Strong.

“Stay away from my friends.”

I stare like he’s speaking a foreign language. “I don’t take orders from you.”

“Really? Because it seems to me like I say jump and you’re Jessica fucking Rabbit.”

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