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“Is that a bet?” I glance at her, smirking.

She arches a brow. “Maybe it is.”

“What are the stakes?” I ask as Sophie grabs her cup and a plate of cookies. I follow them into the living room. Though Christmas is officially over, an outsider looking in would think it hasn’t even started yet. The tree is still lit, and the nativity scene and all the décor Sophie put up weeks ago are still sitting out. They plop on the couch and turn to the Hallmark Channel.

“Two hours of watching the movie we want, and I’ll bake you a dozen cookies for yourself,” Maddie says.

“And if I don’t make it?” I ask, knowing there’s another side to this.

“Then you can’t leave to go out of town tomorrow,” Maddie states confidently.

“Damn,” Sophie says around a mouthful. “Not a bet I’d take.”

Maddie’s beaming, knowing she’s backed me into a corner. If I take the bet and lose, I’ll be forced to stay here, and if I object to it completely, she’ll hang it over my head forever, not letting it go. But if I survive one movie, I get delicious cookies and another win to gloat about.

“I want two dozen, twelve for every hour I have to sit here and be bored to death.”

I hold out my hand, ready to shake on the deal. She looks as if she’s contemplating this, wondering if it’s a trick or not. “Nah. You’re up to something.”

I chuckle, then shrug. “Guess you remember the lesson you learned last time.”

Sophie’s eyes go wide. “Last time? What are you guys talking about?”

“Nothing,” Maddie hurriedly says.

Muting the TV, Sophie turns, giving me her full attention. Sometimes when she gives me that look, it’s scary, and right now is one of those times. “Someone better spill it, or I’m gonna kick some asses.”

I pretend to be annoyed, but happily tell Sophie what happened, and she’s almost as shocked as Maddie was.

“Are ya gonna show me some of these poses?” she asks with a smirk as if she’s holding back her laughter.

“So you can use them in the bedroom?” I tease, and she glowers at me.

“I actually might kick your ass for that!” Sophie says, but all I can do is chuckle.

As soon as the couple who spent the entire movie in a fake relationship almost kiss for the tenth time, and Maddie and Sophie both let out awws in unison—when the kiss finally happens—I’m out, but at that point, it’s over. When I stand, they start talking shit, but the credits run immediately after, so I start walking toward the staircase.

“If you would’ve shaken on it, you’d be baking me twenty-four cookies right now,” I tell Maddie, and she snorts.

“But I didn’t have to waste a bet for you to watch it with us,” she says.

I tell them good night, then go to my room. I fall asleep regardless of the excitement of flying out in the morning. When I wake up, the house is quiet, and because I’ve given myself some wiggle room, I make a cup of coffee and notice a Ziploc bag full of cookies with a note on the kitchen counter.

Just for you, Hulk. See you next year.

-Mads

A smile touches my lips as I grab a pen and write a thank you with a smiley face on the paper. Sometimes she’s too damn sweet for her own good. I take them, load my bag, then drive to the airport. The flight is quiet because it’s so early, and I surprisingly even get some sleep on the way there.

After we land, I pick up my rental car and make it to the Bellagio without any issues. My room for the next two nights is fully comped because of the number of games I’ve played over the past year. That’s the thing about casinos; if you sit there for hours, cashing in money for chips, they give you free shit to encourage you to come back and lose what you won. Free rooms, massages, food and drinks galore, and sometimes they’ll even offer you suites and Cuban cigars.

After I check in to my room, I go downstairs and grab food from the breakfast buffet and drink another cup of coffee. I finally feel awake and ready to play some poker, even if the sun just rose. Vegas is a city that never sleeps—the booze, gambling, and parties last as long as you can handle it.

To warm up, I pull out a few hundred-dollar bills, exchange them for chips, then sit down at a blackjack table. There’s an older couple who smiles at me as I buy in. Each hand is twenty bucks, and I play some rounds. I win a few and lose others, and after an hour, I break even. Taking my chips, I get up and find my way to the poker room. It’s extremely elite and home to the World Poker Tour tournament.

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