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It probably shouldn’t have made Will feel cosy, but it did. He huffed, though he couldn’t hide his wide smile as he flipped his cards over.
“You have one pair,” Peyton said flatly.
“So?”
“A pair oftwos.”
Quinn made a noise as he slid into the seat at the end of the table with a glass of orange juice.
Will ignored all of them. “So?” He didn’t tell Peyton how to playhishand. Maybe none of them had anything good, and he was going to win with his pair of twos.
“You cannot go all in on a pair of twos. Do you want to lose all your Smarties?”
“I guess that depends on whether I can win them back with sexual favours.” Will pushed all five of his Smarties to the middle of the table. It wasn’t like he had many left since he was steadily eating them anyway.
Quinn reached forward and snagged one.
Will feigned outrage, his mouth dropping open. “That was my chip! You’re cutting into my profits, Quinn.”
“You’re about to lose them,” Quinn said with a knee-weakening smile. Will was too busy being dazed by it to think of a convincing rebuttal.
And then Quinn was digging into his bowl of casserole, and the moment was over. Will would think of a good response later while he was trying to sleep, or in the shower, or stumbling to the toilet at three in the morning.
“You don’t know that. They could have shit hands.” Will had chosen to die on this hill, and so he would.
Quinn’s grey gaze darted between Sebastian and Peyton. “They don’t.”
“How do you know?” Peyton asked curiously. He lifted his foot onto his seat, bending his knee and resting his elbow on it, his cards dangling in his hand.
“Because I know Sebastian,” Quinn said simply. “He has a terrible poker face.”
“I think it’s pretty good,” Will said. He peered at Sebastian through narrowed eyes, trying to see him through Quinn’s lens. All he saw was a lawyer with a face that was impossible to decipher.
“Revealing inside information is bad etiquette, Quinn,” Sebastian said. “I have an impeccable poker face.”
He did from where Will was standing. Will was trained to read people in order to be able to react in a split second when someone chose to be unpredictable and uncontrollable. A situation could turn bad in a second, and it was his job to keep it under control, no matter what happened or what came at them. But Sebastian’s face was unreadable. Completely blank, all his secrets locked away behind an impenetrable vault.
“Not to me, you don’t.”
Will stopped trying to pull all of Sebastian’s secrets out via mind reading. It wasn’t working, and he had Smarties to eat.
“And Peyton?” Will asked curiously. How did Quinn know that Peyton had a good hand? Peyton’s poker face was incredible and knowing him for so long hadn’t done Will any favours in being able to read it.
“Gut feeling.”
Quinn had years of experience as a homicide detective to lean on, so Will wasn’t surprised that his instincts were on point.
“You’re not allowed in the room when we play anymore,” Peyton said darkly. “What the fuck?”
“Observing people is my job,” Quinn pointed out, waving a piece of chicken on the end of his fork. “I’d be a terrible detective if I couldn’t read people.”
“What’s Grady’s excuse?” Sebastian asked, and Quinn chuckled with amusement.
“You can sit next to me,” Will said, patting the seat beside himself. Quinn obediently moved, bringing his bowl and drink with him. Will thought that deserved a reward. He picked up one of the Smarties and gently placed it between his teeth. He kissed Quinn and nudged the chocolate into Quinn’s mouth before sliding his tongue across it.
Quinn slid a hand around the back of Will’s neck and deepened the kiss, taking over.
“Will, you can’t bet all your Smarties and then keepeatingthem,” Peyton said.
