Mercy (Somerset University #3) - Ruby Vincent Page 0,33
on Winston’s lap and secured his arms around her waist. I was getting the feeling the only one not interested in the arranged marriage was the overly fashionable gentleman beneath her.
Aiden zeroed in on them as well. “Winston,” he said. That was it. Just his name.
“Phillipa,” Winston spoke up. “Grab us a drink, would you, love?”
“What do I look like? The maid.” Her voice was syrupy-sweet. Philippa leaned in and nipped his nose. “Get it yourself.”
She spun, whipping his face with her hair, and flounced off his lap. Jaw clenched, Winston watched her go and then turned to me as if to say, see what I put up with?
“I like her.” Amusement laced my tone. “You two would make a good match.”
“How would you know? We met last week.”
“And yet I can already tell you need reining in.”
Winston laughed. “You and every shrink Winston Abernathy Junior and his consort have sent me to.”
“Guys,” Aiden broke in. “Let’s do this.”
Winston fell silent.
He shifted a look to Nasir. “Explain the rules.”
“All right. Maverick, we—”
I held up a hand. “You don’t need to tell me the rules. I know how to play.”
“We’re playing a different game.”
Looking from him to the poker table set up in front of us, I asked, “Are we?”
“It’s poker,” Sawyer said. “But we play it differently is what he means. You got the idea last week.”
“The idea of what?” I considered myself an intelligent guy. An observant one too. But what the fuck these guys were talking about and why they kept trading looks was escaping me.
“Whoever wins tonight is asked the question and provides the answer. If the majority supports your answer, you keep your winnings. If they don’t, you give it up—all of it.”
I said nothing. Sawyer must have taken that to mean I needed further explanation because he launched into one.
“Like last week,” he said. “The question was what is the function of laws. Aiden won the game, so Winston asked him the question. He offered up his car if he lost and would’ve hauled off Aiden’s winnings if he won. It came down to a tie which you broke. We won’t have that problem from now on.”
“If I win, you ask me a question,” I said slowly. “What about?”
“The guy who lost the most decides that,” Nasir explained. “The question can be on any topic, but it must be one that requires actual thought. Discussion. A stance. Don’t waste time with ‘who is the best Powerpuff girl?’”
“Blossom,” I replied without skipping a beat. “Obviously.”
“Obviously.” Nasir didn’t miss a trick. “That’s why we can skip that one.”
“What’s the point of this?”
“What’s the point of tossing chips and cards around the table?” Aiden asked. “Poker is a game of strategy. Foresight. Anticipation. But life is a game of chance. You survive it by knowing the measure of yourself and where you stand.” He spread out his hands. “We do more than mess around down here. The Sams are about more. If you don’t stand by your logic and convictions to the point you’d bet everything on it, then what’s the point of you?”
My expression wiped clean, giving nothing away beside a raised brow.
“Are you in or out?”
He’s not asking me to sacrifice the duchess on an altar of skulls and poker chips. If I win, I get asked a question. I can handle that.
“I’m in.”
Sawyer clapped me on the back, looking pleased.
If this was a test—and it was becoming clear all of this was—I seemed to be passing.
The game got underway. The guys were no less quiet the second time around.
“How do you look behind the wheel of a Jag, A?” Hayes slung a playful punch at Winston.
“Like I was born in the backseat of one.”
“Probably conceived in the backseat of one,” Winston shot back. “Your mum still giving it up for loose change?”
“She was,” Aiden replied. “Had to quit because your mom was fighting her for johns.”
“You know us Abernathys always win.”
The Sams kept up the ribbing, jokes, and stories for the whole game. I let it go on unchecked. Their noise wasn’t preventing me from winning. Although, I questioned if I wanted to win now that I knew the outcome.
Who thought up this question and answer game? The Sams see themselves as the best this campus has to offer. But sitting around in a grotty basement and trying to turn a poker game into some intellectual gentlemen’s club? I’d say it reeked of pretention if they weren’t making fart jokes and implying their mothers went