I smile politely. “I’m sure.”
“We will make Killian pay up when she loses,” Grant jokes.
I want to tell Grant he’s wrong, that I don’t intend to lose, but I can’t. I haven’t played poker in years, and I’m a terrible liar. Father always used to say that poker isn’t about bluffing or telling the truth. It is about strategy and numbers. It’s about knowing your odds. It’s that simple.
Grant smiles at me. Marvin starts dealing out cards to everyone.
Killian leans over to whisper in my ear, “Do you know how to play Texas Hold ’em?”
“I know the basics. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
I glance at my cards and wait for my turn. I quickly calculate my outs and odds. When it gets to me, I call. I have a thirty-five percent chance of winning, and the pot odds are thirty percent.
All the men call the initial hundred-dollar bet.
“What do you do, Kinsley?” Grant asks me.
I watch the initial flop. I get another nine to match my pair of nines. I want to smile, but I don’t. I try to keep my emotions as neutral as possible as I begin counting my outs and odds again.
I answer Grant, “I’m a model.”
“Oh, really?” Grant says, eyeing me. “I can see that. You definitely have the body for it.”
Killian glares at Grant, but I can see it’s just harmless fun. And, for whatever reason, I like Grant. He seems to know how to have a good time.
“She’s more than that. She went to Yale,” Killian says.
I’m surprised he is defending me.
I raise the bet on my turn, not by much though. It’s just enough to only keep the serious players in the game. Benny folds on his next turn, but everyone else stays in.
“You’re a pro player?” I ask Grant.
“Yep. I placed third in the World Series of Poker National Championship last year.”
“Impressive,” I say. I watch the next card played.
Another nine turns up, and I can’t help but smile. I turn to Killian to pretend I’m smiling at him, but anybody that’s paying me any attention would know why I’m smiling. Grant is the only one paying me much attention though, and his eyes are on my chest, not my face.
I glance at Killian and see his face has grown dark. His eyes look like they are going to shoot lasers right through Grant.
I place my hand on Killian’s thigh. “Relax,” I whisper to him before shocking both of us by kissing him on the cheek. It’s the most brazen I have been. I gently squeeze his leg, and I feel his muscles relax, if only a little, as I massage his thigh.
I keep my hand there long after he has relaxed. I like feeling his strong body beneath my hand. When I chan
ce a glance down, I see a hint of an erection growing beneath his jeans.
I smile. If I move my hand just an inch, I could accidentally touch it and then pretend I didn’t mean to do it.
“Kinsley, what are you going to do?” Grant wakes me from my dream.
I quickly remove my hand. “I call.”
Grant calls before he says, “The trick to poker is paying attention. It’s math. It’s knowing your odds and how to read people.”
I smile at Grant trying to give me advice. I already know his hand isn’t worth shit. His face says it all, yet he still thinks he’s won with, most likely, a pair of face cards. And looking around the table, he probably would have.
Marvin flips his cards, showing high king, followed by Stephen with a pair of tens. Then, Killian flips over a straight, to my surprise. But it’s still not enough. Grant nods for me to flip my cards over.