Black Number Four

by Kandi Steiner

  A few hands go by with not much action. Skyler wins, frat daddy wins, Skyler wins, frat daddy wins. They trade small hands back and forth before finally, Skyler bets big, reducing her pile of chips by more than half.

  “There’s that bluffing bet!” frat daddy yells, calling. He pushes his chips to the middle and the dealer burns one card and turns the next, revealing another card. “I’ve got you figured out now, Barbie.”

  Skyler appears to be shaken. She chews the inside of her bottom lip and her knee begins bouncing slightly under the table. Shit. He figured out her bluff.

  But how? She looked exactly like she did when she cleaned out tattoo guy, what did he see?

  I’m failing at this studying shit.

  The final card is dealt and Skyler checks it to frat daddy, backing off her strong bet. He shakes his head. “No way, can’t back down now. All in.”

  He pushes his pile forward and Skyler inhales deep as the dealer counts out the chips.

  “Four-thousand-four-hundred to call,” he says to Skyler. She looks down at her own pile, counting. That would only leave her with twelve hundred if she lost. Her knee bounces a little, she bites her lip, then, with a heavy breath, she pushes her chips forward.

  “Call.”

  Frat daddy flips his cards, revealing a straight. A solid hand, but he wasn’t betting on his cards – he was betting on hers.

  Suddenly, a smile breaks on Skyler’s face, her knee steadying again. “Oh Ken,” she says, throwing his Barbie comments back in his face. “Barbie never bluffs.” She lays her cards out, her smile widening.

  Four deuces line the table.

  I’ll be damned.

  Frat daddy’s mouth drops and everyone claps, some of the guys laughing. Skyler smiles and nods as people congratulate her and the dealer collects the cash from the back of the bar, retrieving a large envelope and placing it on the table in front of her. Skyler thanks him and tucks it into her clutch, standing.

  “That was a good game,” the dealer says. “You know, you look familiar. Do you play a lot around here?”

  She shakes her head. “No, but I have a familiar face. A lot of people think they know me.”

  He narrows his eyes, scrutinizing her, but doesn’t push further. “I guess that’s it. Well, at any rate, good job tonight.”

  “Thanks,” she says. She glances at me briefly and nods toward the door. I drain my beer and start heading that way when frat daddy cuts Skyler off.

  “Wait a second,” he says, grabbing her arm. “You’re Skyler, aren’t you?”

  She yanks her arm free and steps around him. “Nope, I’m Barbie, remember?” She tries to stay calm, smiling as she moves toward the door again. Frat daddy grabs her other arm and spins her around.

  “Don’t touch her,” I say loudly, quickly making my way across the room. I pull his hand from her elbow and push my chest into his, standing tall. I may not be the most solid guy in the world, but I lift enough to hold my own.

  “Who the fuck are you?” he asks, pushing me back.

  “He’s leaving, we both are,” Skyler says, shoving me toward the door. “Let’s go,” she urges under her breath.

  “Hey, I thought we were going out after this,” frat daddy says, grabbing Skyler around the waist and pulling her back into him. “You just hustled me, the least you can do is put out tonight.”

  I clench my jaw and shove him hard, sending him flying back into the table. Chips fall onto the floor and a drink spills on the felt, making the dealer curse and call for napkins.

  “Take that shit outside!”

  “Yeah, let’s go, playboy,” frat daddy says through clenched teeth, pushing himself off the table. I rush toward him, ready to swing, when Skyler presses her hands on my chest.

  “Go. Now.”

  “I’m not going to let this asshole put his hands all over you,” I say, my eyes still trained on frat daddy. He’s smiling manically, which should make me terrified but only fuels my fire.

  Skyler rolls her eyes and shoves me hard, making me stumble back toward the door. I hold up my hand and point at frat daddy, letting him know we aren’t finished, before Skyler pushes us both through the door. We walk down the hallway and out onto the street where the cab I called is waiting. After we climb in, Skyler slaps my chest hard.

  “What the fuck, Kip?! You almost screwed everything up!”

  “I wasn’t just going to stand there and watch that shit happen, Skyler! I don’t care if you did take that douchebag’s money, he shouldn’t have put his hands on you.”

  “I told you, I can handle myself!” she screams, crossing her arms and looking out the window. She tells the driver where to go and adds, “I don’t need you to save me, Kip.”

  I grit my teeth and go to punch the back of the passenger seat but stop myself, running my hands through my hair instead. I’m heated, I’m being crazy. I need to calm down before I chase this girl away for good.

  I have to get close to her, and this isn’t the way to do it.

  I exhale a long, steady breath and turn to face her, but she just keeps staring out the window. “Hey.” I reach over and put my hand on her leg. “Listen, I’m sorry.”

  She smacks my hand away. “Whatever.”

  “Shit Skyler,” I say. “I don’t know what you want from me. I’m into you, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t sit back and let some Abercrombie model wannabe molest you. Next time I’ll back off. Just, come on, I don’t want to end the night like this. Come home with me.”

  “Are you serious?” she asks, turning to face me with a disgusted look.

  “Not like that,” I clarify, holding my hands up in surrender. “It’s almost four in the morning and I know you’ve got to be hungry. Let me make us breakfast.”

  She rolls her eyes and turns back toward the window. I scoot a little closer and rest my chin on her shoulder. “I make killer chocolate chip waffles.”

  Skyler doesn’t budge, but I see that smile starting to work in my favor again.

  “I’ll strip down to my boxers and wear an apron for you.”

  She purses her lips together, fighting the smile.

  I lean in closer and whisper in her ear, “What if I told you I had bacon?”

  She breaks down and laughs, pushing me off her and shaking her head. “You’re the biggest nerd, you know that?”

  I shrug. “I’ve been called worse. So, waffles and bacon? Please? I promise to keep my hands to myself and you can punch me if I start to annoy you.”

  She sighs. “Fine. But only because I love bacon.”

  I smile. “Who doesn’t?”

  Skyler cuts into her first waffle with the side of her fork. It makes a little scraping sound against her plate as she dissects, her face so concentrated you would think she was performing surgery. She lifts a small morsel to her mouth and I watch her chew, waiting.

  Her brows shoot up. “Okay, I was wrong. These are delicious.”

  “Wait a second.” I cough, taking a sip of my orange juice. “Did you just say you were wrong? Shit, what time is it? What’s today’s date?” I jump up and grab the magnet notepad on my fridge and a pen off the counter. “I need to write this down.”

  She smiles and takes another bite. “Asshole.”

  I laugh a little and munch on a strip of bacon, still watching her. Even though it’s after six in the morning and she’s been up all night, she doesn’t look the least bit tired. If anything, I’d say she’s on a high – her eyes wide, the smile that was refusing to show earlier now cemented on her face. I wish it was me behind her happiness, but the girl just won ten thousand dollars. I don’t think I can compete with that.

  “You were amazing to watch tonight,” I say, picking my fork back up.

  She shrugs, still smiling. “It wasn’t a big game, I was expecting more players – more competition. They were novices, at best.”

  “I think you’re being modest,” I say, watching as her tongue darts out and runs across her bottom lip, catching runaway syrup in its
wake. God, this girl is killing me tonight. First a poker game and now waffles. I should start a list.

  Strange Situations That Have Turned Me On.

  Bizarre Every Day Things That Skyler Makes Sexy.

  I’ll work on the title later.

  “I have a question though.”

  Skyler finishes the last of her waffle and picks up a strip of bacon, sliding it around on her plate to coat it in syrup. “I might have an answer,” she says, leaning back in her chair and taking a bite. Her eyes roll back and she exhales heavily. “Oh my God, I love bacon.”

  Damn, what I wouldn’t give to hear her say she loves something else in that same way.

  Focus, Kip. Poker. POK-ER.

  “Okay, my question is this… Is it true that you don’t ever bluff? Or was that just a shot at Mr. Frat Daddy Douchebag?”

  She smiles, picking up another strip of bacon. “It was just a shot. I bluff, everyone does – I’m just really good at it. I’m good at decoding other people’s bluffs, too,” she replies, her eyes shooting up to mine at the last sentence.

  Shit. Can she see right through me? Does she know why I’m here?

  Calm down, Kip. There’s no way she knows anything. Stay focused.

  “So when he was going to pay you to show your cards, were you bluffing then?”

  She shrugs, standing and grabbing our empty plates. “He was going to pay me for those cards, and now you think I’m just going to tell you for free?”

  I grab the plates from her hands. “I got these, sit down and relax. And yes, I want to know your secrets.” I walk to the sink and drop the dishes in, waiting.

  Skyler leans against the wall and crosses her arms. “Oh yeah? In poker or in life?”

  I tuck my hands in my pockets and shrug, my eyes locked on hers. “Both.”

  She stays there for a while, smiling and scrutinizing me at the same time. Suddenly, her face falls, and I feel the same resistance from earlier stretch between us like a tense rubber band. “I should probably go,” she says, lifting from the wall.

  I check my watch. “Why don’t we go watch the sunrise? It’ll be up in twenty minutes.”

  Skyler chews her cheek, her foot tapping on the floor. “I don’t know, I think this would be a lot easier if I left now.”

  I shake my head, walking toward her. “What do you mean by this?”

  She goes to back up but hits the wall. “This. Us. I just, I don’t think we should get caught up. I have to focus on poker this semester and you’re pledging. It would just be easier if we didn’t complicate things.”

  I keep walking until our chests touch and place my hands on the wall around her head, my face inches from hers. Her breath hitches in her throat, but her bright blue eyes don’t leave mine.

  “Baby, you made me lick tequila off you the first night we met. This is nothing if not complicated.” Her eyes flick to my mouth, her heart racing against my chest. I bite my lip and lean in closer, wanting desperately to close the remaining inches and feel her mouth on mine. But, she’s right – this can’t get too complicated. I need to get her close, need her to trust me – but I also can’t get caught up in feelings I’m not allowed to have. Not for her, anyway.

  I push back off the wall. “Come on, watch the sunrise with me. I’ve been in Florida for over a week now and still haven’t set foot on the beach. And I get what you’re saying, so we can keep it simple. We can be friends, right? Just because we made out in a crowd full of people doesn’t mean this has to be weird.”

  She laughs, but seems shaken as she stands up straight. “Fine, let’s go. But I’m serious – this is a friend zone.”

  “I’ll be sure to wear my friend zone crash helmet,” I say, giving her a cocky smile as I grab her coat and open the door. “But that means you’ll have to keep your hands off me. Think you can manage?”

  She snags her coat and throws it on, rolling her eyes. “I’ll do my best to refrain.”

  I laugh and lock the door before jogging down the stairs to catch up to her. “Something tells me we should bet on this,” I say. “I don’t think you’ll be able to last.”

  “Put your money where your mouth is, Four Eyes,” she says, smiling at me from a sideways glance. “I’d love to take it from you.”

  “I know you would,” I say, returning her smile. As we walk down the stairs and out toward the beach, I note the way Skyler looks in the early morning light. Her eyes are bright, her skin warm, the small smile still playing on her lips. It’s a little chilly this morning, causing her cheeks to run a slight shade of pink, and her hair is now completely wavy and unruly blowing in the soft breeze. She’s absolutely breathtaking.

  I know I can’t get involved with her the way I want to, but I can’t help but curse my luck. I’ve only known the girl a few days but already I’m more interested in her than any girl I’ve ever met. I hate that this is the way it has to be, that if I want my dream, I can’t have her. It’s a battle between what I want and what I can’t give up. The last thing I want is to hurt her, yet I have to.

  I’m going to get her to trust me, to let me in, to tell me her secrets, and then I’m going to show up and sit across the table from her in May.

  And she’s going to hate me.

  I wrap my coat tight around my waist and tuck my hands under the sleeves as we walk the beach. It’s not cold, not really, but I’m a wimp and a true Floridian so naturally – I’m freezing. Even though the water is like ice, we still walk barefoot along the shore, letting the waves wash over our toes.

  I know I’m in dangerous territory being here with Kip. I started out strong tonight, or at least I thought I did. I was kind of a bitch to him earlier, yet he still wanted me to come home with him.

  Damn it.

  I need him to just tell me to get lost so I can tell my Big he changed his mind, that he’s not into me. The more we dance on this side of the line, the harder it will be to get her to drop this game of hers. If she’s hell bent on getting him back and there’s any way I can help make it happen, she’s going to use me.

  There’s also the fact that I like being around him. I like it way more than I care to admit and that’s not good. It would be hard enough to stay away from him, but if I have to be around him and yet not have him the way I want to? Yeah, I think that would be worse. He was my target – I zeroed in on him the first night we met. And now I have to take my finger off the trigger seconds before shooting and aim another direction.

  I’m not a happy camper.

  Kip’s shoulder brushes mine, waking up my senses to realize just how close we’re walking. He turns toward me, his bright eyes reflecting the turquoise blue of the water. “So, why poker?”

  “What do you mean? Like why do I play?”

  “Yeah, how did you get started playing? And why do you do it professionally?”

  “Are you interviewing me for ESPN?” I ask, lifting my brows in amusement.

  He smiles and looks back out at the water. “I’m just curious about you.”

  “Well, it’s a pretty boring story.”

  “Boring is in the eye of the beholder.”

  I stop walking. “I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be beauty.”

  “I amended it. So I’ll ask again – why poker?”

  We start walking again and I tuck my hands deeper into my coat. “My mom taught me how to play when I was really young. I didn’t exactly fit in when I was younger and I never got invited to birthday parties or any of that stuff that happened on the weekends.”

  “You? Miss Social Butterfly? I can hardly imagine any scenario where you didn’t fit in.”

  I shake my head. “Palm South is different for me, which is part of why I love it so much. I used to be pretty much invisible, and here, everyone knows me. It’s something I’ve always wanted.”

  Kip scrunches his nose. “Why? Doesn’t it bother you to have everyone watching you, talking about you?”

  I shrug. “No, not really. I mean, the gossiping is the downside to i
t, but the plus side is that I never walk into a class where I don’t know someone. I always have something to do, whether it’s the weekend or not. I’ve kind of broken out of my shell here, I guess. People love to be around me and I like to be around them, too.”

  He seems to chew on that, his toes flicking up wet sand as we continue walking. Finally he asks, “So your mom taught you?”

  “Yeah, she started teaching me how to play poker to lift my spirits, I guess, and we had family poker nights. My brother wasn’t as into it as I was, but he played every now and then. Mostly it was me, Mom, and Dad. Dad knew the game better, but Mom knew how to play, if that makes sense. She had a better poker face, better reads on bluffs.”

  “So she taught you all your moves, huh?” He asks, quirking a brow.

  I smile, nodding. “Yes, definitely. She says I’m better, but I learned everything I know from her.”

  Kip is quiet for a moment and we just walk, the sound of the ocean filling the silence. After a while, he asks, “So you used to do it for fun, but when did it go from a family game night sort of thing to something professional?”

  We’re getting into deeper territory, and I’m not sure I want to go there. I bite my bottom lip and consider lying, but I’ve never been one to bluff when I don’t have to. No sense in wasting a good poker face on something that isn’t that serious. Most everyone at the school knows why I play the way I do, I guess it doesn’t hurt for him to hear it from the source.

  “Honestly?”

  He nods. “Of course.”

  I shrug. “I’m poor. Like, second-hand clothes, food stamps, lived-in-a-car-for-a-year-once poor.” I turn to see Kip’s reaction, but he doesn’t give one. He just waits for me to continue. “Well, I guess I should say I was poor. My parents work so hard, but they never went to college and their options are limited. They both work retail and Dad is close to getting promoted to management, but things are just tight. So, when I was old enough to enter tournaments, I started playing for money. I’m good at it, I like it – why not make life a little easier for my family and do it for a living?”

  We stop walking and face the water, letting our feet sink deeper into the sand with every pull of a new wave. “Plus,” I add after a moment of silence. “I wouldn’t be able to come here if I didn’t do the tournaments. I pay for my tuition, books, and the sorority all on my own. This has been my first-choice school ever since I can remember. I knew coming here would be different, a chance for me to reinvent myself and be who I wanted to be – it’s a small school, everyone knows everyone, and like I said before, I’ve always wanted that. I played the part of the little fish in a big sea growing up. Now, at Palm South, people know me. People love me.” I smile, thinking of my sisters and friends on campus. They’re like my family, and I can’t imagine where I would be if I couldn’t play poker to stay here with them.