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I rolled my eyes. “Fine. We'll do guys’ night up at the lodge.”
“Sounds like a plan, but Daphne is bringing food over here,” Cat returned.
“You know she’ll leave some for us.”
Cat rolled her eyes and then nodded. “Of course, she will. She's generous like that.”
“You would too,” Harley interjected.
Cat grinned. “I would.”
“Because you're generous like that,” Harley repeated.
Except for the fact that I was having trouble with that whole raging hard-on issue, the night was fairly normal. I was pretty positive Cat didn't pick up on anything. Harley went up to bed before we did, which also wasn't unusual. It wasn't set in stone, but she tended to go to bed sooner. Cat was young and still didn't think she needed to sleep. She would scroll on her phone and watch a show in the background for hours most nights.
I went into the kitchen for a glass of water. When I returned to the living room, Cat said, “Your crush is showing.”
“Uh, excuse me?” I sat down across from her again.
“Your crush on Harley. It's not a secret, you know.”
“Cat,” I warned through gritted teeth.
“What?” Her brows hitched up.
“I donothave a crush on Harley.”
She sighed. “Yeah, you do. It's like when Flynn had his thing for Daphne.”
“It isnotlike that,” I ground out.
I really didn't think it was like that. Flynn had been head over heels with Daphne pretty much from the day she showed up here. It just took him a while to figure it out.
Cat shrugged. “Suit yourself. I think she kind of likes you too.”
“What?” Unfortunately, I didn't catch myself fast enough on that.
Cat burst out laughing. “See, you want to know, don't you?”
I sighed. “Whatever.”
“You two have it bad for each other, but you do that thing.”
“What thing?”
“Playing it cool. Although she's way worse than you about it.”
I knew Cat had a point. I just didn't know Harley had been playing it cool about me. I wasn't about to ask any further questions. I simply said, “Well, I don't know about me, but you're right about Harley. She plays it cool about everything. I'll tell you what. If she's good at poker, don't play with her.”
Cat eyed me. “What do you mean about that?”
“People who play it close to the chest like she does all the time are probably pretty good at not letting anyone know when they have a good hand. Got to be careful.”
“I don't think I'm good at poker,” she announced.
“Should we practice?”
At Cat's nod, I fetched a deck of cards out of the drawer by the couch, and we began playing.
