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That’s… weird.
I zoom in on them, and my breath catches in my lungs. The glow of their phone illuminates their face, cast in warped shadows, their green eyes colorless and dark, and their red hair looks inky black.
But it doesn’t change the fact that I’d know those eyes, that face, and that hair anywhere.
What the fuck is Georgia Monroe doing in my house?
Is this some sort of joke? Did Aurelia mention her name because she knew she was going to my house? No. That can’t be.
Speak of the devil, and she shall appear.
I close the toilet seat and sit down on the lid, wiping my mouth and jaw with my hand as I watch her. I haven’t seen Georgia in years, and that has been entirely by design. She comes up to Boston with some frequency to visit Zax and Greyson, but I always—freaking always—make sure I’m at my house in Maine when that happens.
I can’t see her. It’s not good for either of us, but it’s part of the promise I made all those years ago.
And now there she is, sitting on my couch in the dark, doing something on her phone instead of coming here to Zax’s, which would make far more sense. What purpose could she have for seeking me out and not her cousins? Especially after all this time.
My heart gives a painful thud against my ribs. Fuck. This isn’t going to be good.
Rising off the toilet, I exit the bathroom and follow the sound of shouting back into the poker room. Callan is picking at the pile of bar food on his plate, and Grey is sipping on his bourbon, a smirk on both of their lips as they watch Asher and Zax go back and forth with Aurelia over their current hand.
“All I’m saying is if you’re too pussy to bet, then fold.”
Asher narrows his eyes at Aurelia. “Doll, I am never too pussy for anything. You can’t throw shit like that out at a football player, especially a quarterback, and not expect us to play for the win. But when you drop three grand on one hand, unless you have a royal fucking flush, I’d like to know what sort of game you’re trying to play with me.”
“You can’t ask that,” Zax cuts in. “You know the rules. You either play or you fold. You either think she’s bluffing or not. It’s poker.”
“Yeah, fucking Vegas, street-style poker,” Asher grumbles. Sighs. Stares at his cards. “Fuck it, I’m in.”
Fool.
He slides his chips to the center of the table and flips his cards over. And in fairness, he has three aces. But then Aurelia reveals a straight, and everyone breaks out into laughter. Except Asher, who looks like he swallowed a bug.
His arms fly out, hands waving wildly in the air as he shoots to his feet. “Oh, come on. It’s not even possible! You totally cheat.”
Aurelia grins devilishly, dragging the healthy pile of chips her way. “Maybe you just don’t know how to poker the way I do.”
“Honey, I may not know how to do a lot of things, but I know exactly how to poker. Every place she wants it.”
And that’s my cue. “I’m leaving.”
Five sets of blinky eyes turn my way. “But it’s early,” Callan exclaims.
“Yeah!” Grey stands. “Can’t you stay a bit longer? Whatever you’re hacking can wait, no?”
I shrug. It’s what I do, and no one challenges it. I don’t speak a lot, hardly ever, and I don’t sleep much because I spend my nighttime hours hacking and my daytime hours tattooing in my shop. I live alone and mostly off the grid in Maine, and that’s exactly how I like it.
But Georgia at my house waiting for me is stirring things, and I need to get to the bottom of it now.
“Are you staying in town tonight or going home to Maine?” Ash questions.
“Staying.”
“Good stuff.” He stands and walks over to me, his three grand loss already forgotten, and gives me a fist pound. “You’re welcome to come over for brunch tomorrow, and if you want to stay through for Sunday Night Football, we’re home against Detroit.”
I think about that. I would actually like brunch tomorrow and to stay and watch him play on Sunday, especially since the shop is closed on Mondays, so I don’t have to race home after. But now everything has changed, and I’m not sure what the weekend holds for me.
“I’ll text you.”
