Page 116 of Double or Nothing

She laughs, and there it is. That ridiculous little burst in my chest I’m absolutely not acknowledging. It can fuck off and go to hell. This is just about casual fucking and another round of filthy fun.

One thing’s for certain, Soul Girl in a casino is a sight to behold. The place was buzzing perfectly well before she strolled in, but now the whole floor looks like it’s upped its game to impress her, and so it should. The lights shine sharper. The cocktails taste better. Even the sad old bastard playing blackjack who’s been nursing the same whisky for an hour looks more interesting with Alice Parker in the room.

Bryce looks more interesting, too.

Not that he was dull before. Not at all. My interest in him at the Kilby Club was because he’s a hot guy who clearly likes taking dick nice and rough. He was just packaged wrong. He packaged himself wrong. Like one of those fancy gifts wrapped in beige paper.

Tonight, BT’s wrapping is finally tearing. Navy tux, nice bow tie, hair perfect and neat enough to invite ruining. He sits between us like he’s trying to play calm, but there’s a live current running under his skin.

I can feel it.

Alice can too. I don’t need to be an Eli to see that. It reeks of obvious from a mile away.

Her knee keeps brushing his under the table. Accidentally, of course. Three times accidentally. Four. Five.

I can’t resist the urge to point it out.

“Careful, Soul Girl. Keep knocking BT’s knee and he’ll start thinking you like like him. His dick is already like a joystick, don’t make him come in his pants.”

Bryce’s hand stills around his glass, nerves still rife under the surface.

Alice doesn’t so much as blink. “Maybe I do like like him.”

Go, Soul Girl.

Not even a hint of resistance to the banter.

Bryce turns to her, and the look between them is enough to make every bloody chip on the table melt into the felt. There’s a whole book of history in that look. Not sweet history either. Something powerful enough to warrant its own power ballad.

“You two are terrible at subtle,” I tell them. “Absolutely atrocious.”

Bryce clears his throat, but his eyes stay on Alice.

“And you’re terrible at staying out of things, Jackass. Always stirring the pot and pressing people’s buttons.”

“I’m fantastic at staying out of things, actually. I simply choose not to.”

“Ever?”

“Rarely. Certainly not tonight. I’m looking forward to pressing plenty of buttons later.”

Alice smiles into her Midnight Gold cocktail.

Bryce smiles too. Just for a moment. I see the tiniest shift in him, the softening around his eyes. The way the tension in his shoulders loosens before snapping back again.

It snaps back hard. Real hard. And I get a prickle. One of the prickles that comes with casino mastery and people-watching. Instinct. Knowing without knowing.

There’s something there under the surface tonight.

Something he’s not saying.

It’s a prickle about her, too. Something she’s not saying either.

It’s been hanging around them since the second he walked in, They’re both lit up, but there’s shadow under the shine. A fresh one. Newer than the old heartbreak.

Interesting.

Very interesting.