Page 95 of Against the Clock
“I know, I know, I was just kidding. I know this is poker. I’m not good at it, but…” I drift off, the handful of times I did nearly this exact same bit in college racing through my memories. “I’m Kelsey, by the way.”
“Jacob Matthews,” the lighter haired, injured one says, offering a hand the size of a freaking dinner plate to shake. “And that idiot’s my little brother, Tyler. We all call him Ty, though.”
“You’re a reporter, right?” Ty interjects, shuffling the cards with ease.
He’s good at it, the cards making the familiar snick against each other as they bridge between his hands. Could be Ty’s sandbagging too. I watch him, curious.
“Yeah, I am,” I finally answer.
Another player sits down, twice as wide as me, the chair groaning.
“Rhett,” Jacob says. “Didn’t think you were coming tonight.”
“Here I am,” the guy says gruffly. There’s no way he’s not a linebacker. He’s huge. Surly.
“You trying to play nice after what you did to Daniel last week?” Ty asks him, shuffling again.
He pushes the deck out to me and I nearly cut it out of habit, but remember I’m trying to win and stare up at him in confusion instead.
“Cut the deck,” he says.
“Hmm?” I ask.
“Cut the deck?” He grins at me, and despite the fact he’s objectively handsome, he doesn’t hold a candle to my Daniel. “Show her, Jacob.”
Jacob sighs, then cuts the deck, an exasperated expression on his face. Even so, when he leans back against his chair, he gives me an appraising stare, like he suspects me already. Whatever. It’ll make it more fun.
“Does she know how to play?” Rhett grumbles, glaring at me. “I thought this was going to be fun, not beginner hour.”
“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry. If y’all don’t want me to play, I’ll go sit with Daniel.” I pout. “I’ll pick it up fast. I promise.”
“No, no, no,” Ty says. “This’ll be fun. You’ll get it.”
Rhett grunts.
Obviously, playing nice with a poker novice isn’t his idea of fun.
“It’s just for candy,” I say, but these guys don’t play games for fun. Not the same way regular people do. They’re out to win, same as me. They’re just telling me a whole lot more about themselves than they realize right now. “Right?”
“Like from a baby,” Ty says, laughing. “Okay, sweetheart—”
“My name is Kelsey,” I tell him, dropping some of the act. “Not sweetheart.”
His eyebrows rise and his grin deepens.
“Don’t be an ass, Ty,” his brother tells him.
Rhett sighs.
“Before you play, you put in the ante. That means you pay to get dealt in. We each get three cards to start. We do a round of bets based on our cards. The dealer, that’s me, flips the first three off the top of the deck. That’s called the flop. After the flop, we’ll take turns betting again, based on both our hands and what we think other players might have in their hands.”
“Do I have to bet?” I interrupt, blinking rapidly.
“No, you can fold,” Jacob says slowly, and I glance at him. He’s really staring at me now. Maybe I’m laying it on too thick.
“Once that round of betting is done, one more card goes out, and then we bet again, or you can fold. Whoever has the better hand after that last round wins whatever’s been bet.”
I fish a box of Junior Mints out of my purse and a bag of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. I’ll save the peppermint patties in case I need another buy-in later.