“Yep,” I say, still buzzing off the win. Skyler shakes hands with Brandon, but then her eyes focus on Kip, and I can see her jaw tighten on the screen. My stomach falls. “It all comes down to this.”
There’s a mad dash to the kitchen for beer refills and snacks before the last round starts. And in my rush to get back to my spot on the couch with a fresh beer for me and Becca, I nearly run over Erin.
“Ooof!” she exclaims as I hold the beers out above her head, doing my best not to spill them all over her.
“Shit, Erin, I’m sorry.”
“No, no, I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going,” she says, and then she starts giggling. Erin Xanders, who I haven’t seen laugh in over a year, is giggling.
“Uh…” I bend down to look into her glazed eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, I’m fantastic!” she says, clapping her hands down on my shoulders. She kisses each one of my cheeks and pulls back with a grin plastered on her face as she runs her hands back through her hair. “I’ve had a few beers. I can’t remember the last time I had beer,” she says. “And Skyler is doing so good. And Kip is there, so that’s super fun. And I had the best brownie of my life and now I’m going back to get more.”
“Brownie?” I follow her gaze to the plate of baked goods behind me in the kitchen, and my eyes double in size when I look at her again. “Oh, shit, Erin. Those are pot brownies.”
I expect her to freak out, to go into paranoid mode about being within even twenty feet of drugs. But she just smiles, and shrugs. “Ah. Well, that explains why I feel so great then, doesn’t it?”
“Um, yeah…” Glancing behind her, I see Becca watching us, but she pulls her gaze away as soon as mine finds hers. “Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe you should come sit down in the living room for a bit.”
“I will. I’m just going to get some water,” Erin says, smacking her tongue to the roof of her mouth. “I’m thirsty.”
She grins again and I can’t help but chuckle. “Alright. See you in there.”
Erin makes her way into the kitchen as I take my seat next to Becca again, handing her the beer I managed to save. She takes her first sip as a new hand is dealt to Kip and Skyler.
“You missed it,” she says, licking her lips as she sets her cup down on the table. “They had these hot bitches bringing out piles of money and shit.”
“Damn it!” I say, making a big deal of it even though I could care less. I prop my arm around her shoulders on the couch. “Maybe you can get half-naked later and give me a replay.”
“Only if you get all the way naked,” she says, brow arched.
I just laugh, bending to kiss her full, nude lips before turning my attention back to the screen. Erin plops down in one of the chairs down the couch from us, spilling a little water as she giggles and tries to focus on the television. I watch her for a moment, caught somewhere between happy for her that she’s smiling and worried for her because I know drugs can become an addiction when it feels like there’s nothing else happy in life. And for Erin, right now, I know that’s how she feels.
She finally came to me.
After all this time running, after all this time saying she was fine, she finally came to me after she and Skyler made up. And I held her, and she talked, and cried, and even though we haven’t figured everything out yet, it’s a step.
I feel like she can get better, like she can be okay again.
I feel like I can help her get there.
“She okay?” Becca asks, noticing my gaze.
I clear my throat and take another sip of my beer. “She’s good. Just ate a pot brownie by mistake.”
Becca laughs. “Oh, God. Been there.” She leans into me, her eyes on mine while I keep my gaze on the screen. “Hey… I don’t have to worry about her, right?”
“What?” I snap my eyes to hers, immediately shaking my head as I drop my beer to the table again. “Of course not.”
“Okay,” Becca says, fingers playing with the hem of my t-shirt. “I just wanted to check. I know we’re not official or anything, but… I like you, Bear. And I’ve been second place before.” She swallows, her eyes on where her hand twists in my shirt. “Too many times, actually. And I’m not doing it again.”
I tilt her chin up with my knuckle, making sure her eyes are on mine when I say my next words. “Hey, you’re not second place with me. You’re first. Hell, you’re the only place, there aren’t even any other competitors.”
She smiles, leaning into my touch.
“I know we’re taking it slower than either of us is used to,” I say, searching her golden eyes. I let myself trace the smooth features of her face, the curls of her hair. “But, it’s not because I have feelings for anyone else. It’s because I have a lot of feelings for you, and I want to take my time exploring them. Just like you’ve been second place before, I’ve rushed in and felt safe sooner than I should have,” I admit, a flash of Shawna hitting me out of nowhere. “I just want to do it right this time.”
“Me, too,” Becca says. She leans up, pressing her lips to mine. “Just keep it real with me, okay?”
“Always.”
She snuggles into my side, and then the entire house is sucked into what’s happening in Vegas.
A little past midnight, the stacks are almost completely even in Vegas. It’s easy to see both players are tired, even with the jokes they’ve been throwing back and forth at each other, and we all know it’s going to be over soon.
“I better piss now or forever hold my peace,” I murmur, slipping my arm from around Becca.
“Gross. Did not need to know.”
“Hey, you said to keep it one-hundred.”
“For future reference, that doesn’t include your digestion status.”
I shrug, throwing her a wink as I make my way toward the hall. “Your loss.”
I jog down the hallway first, but the bathroom in my room is in use — and not in the way I need to use it. I smirk when I hear the moans and thumps, tapping the door with an, “Atta boy,” before heading for the bathroom upstairs. It’s usually the cleanest, and after the kind of party we’ve had tonight, I know the co-ed ones downstairs have to be a mess.
I don’t bother locking the door behind me, knowing I won’t be long. I realize that was a mistake not even a full minute later when I’m still zipping up my fly and the door bursts open.
Erin flies through, shoving me to the side just in time to drop to her knees and vomit in the toilet I just pissed in.
“Jesus Christ, Ex,” I say, rinsing my hands quickly before drying them and bending to hold her hair back. I reach her just in time for her to heave again, and I cringe at the sight, looking away but still holding her hair and rubbing her back. “It’s okay, get it all out.”
“I don’t understand,” she groans, leaning her cheek on the toilet seat.
“Don’t do that.”
I try to get her to sit up again, but she swats me away, groaning again.
“I felt fine, I felt great.”
I chuckle, dropping to the floor next to her. “Yeah, well, you drank and then ate a pot brownie. The spins were inevitable.”
She opens her eyes, blinking a few times. “So, you feel the room spinning, too?”
I don’t have time to answer before she’s head in the toilet again, dry heaving. I just smile and rub her back. Poor girl.
“It’s okay, just get it all out and you’ll feel better after a night of sleep.”
Erin doesn’t get anything up that time, so she rests her cheek on the toilet seat again. Her eyes are glazed and out of focus as she looks up at me, and a smile splits her face. Then, she giggles before full on laughing.
“Still high, huh?” I ask with a smile.
“No, no, it’s just…” She shakes her head, waving her hand at me before it lands on my arm. She squeezes it tight, her warm hand smoothing over my bicep as her eyes search mine. “It’s just, the last time I was throwing up in this bathroom, it was because I was pregna
nt with your baby.”
There’s a loud commotion downstairs, a mixture of cheers and groans, but all I hear is ringing. All I see is Erin’s smiling face, staring back at me without a single ounce of embarrassment or regret over what she just said. She doesn’t realize it. She probably doesn’t even remember it, and it just happened.
But I’ll never forget it.
“What did you just say?”
Suddenly, her eyes go wide, like her words finally registered. Her breathing accelerates as I drop my hand from her back.
“Erin. What the fuck did you just say to me.” I shake my head, grabbing her wrist and pulling her up to look at me. “Was that a joke?”
“Oh, God.”
Her eyes bulge again just as the door swings open, and my Little grimaces at the sight of Erin’s puke in the toilet before his eyes find mine.
“Shit, man.”
“Get out, Josh.” I point to the door he just came through, my voice firm.
“I’m going, man, trust me. I just thought you should know. Skyler lost,” he says.
My stomach drops even lower, head falling back a bit as a sigh leaves my chest. Shit. She lost, and I wasn’t even there to watch it.
Josh shrugs, his eyes sympathetic. “Sorry, man. It’s all over.”
He shuts the door, and as soon as we’re alone again, Erin finds a little more to throw up.
- MEET ME AT THE BELLAGIO. 11:30. -
I stare at Kip’s text when I’m fully dressed, debating if I should actually meet him or just crawl back into the hot bathtub. His message is the only one I’ve looked at, choosing to ignore the multitude of other texts and calls until the morning when I can face them. They’ll all want answers, they’ll want to know what happened, they’ll want to congratulate me on second place even when they’re secretly wondering why the hell I didn’t take first.
Only Kip and I know that.
I’m already late, if I do want to meet him, but I still don’t rush. Instead, I sit on the bed, replaying the night. I close my eyes, see Kip sitting across from me, see his eyes widen when I go all in with a pair of black fours on the table. It’s my cursed hand in poker. He and I both knew it was over right then, but what he doesn’t know is that was the exact moment I realized it didn’t matter.
The title didn’t matter.
The only thing that did was him.
The second-place check is plenty to pay off my tuition, set my family up, and then some. It was what I came for. The title would have just been a bonus for me, a decorative medal for my ego. But to Kip? It was everything.
So, I went from being his opponent to being his teammate, and we won the tournament together — for his dad.
I sigh, opening my eyes again to stare at the black television screen hanging above the desk. Not even an hour ago, I watched Kip’s face fill that screen, his eyes tired but his smile wide as he talked to the reporter.
“I’m not really sure how I feel just yet,” he’d said, laughing.
It was a charming laugh that I was sure was melting panties across the country.
“I just…” He’d paused, biting down on his bottom lip and looking up for a second to compose himself. “I just want to dedicate this to my father, Oliver Jackson Sr. Thank you for sacrificing your dream so that I could have mine. I didn’t win this tournament today. You did. I love you.”
The announcers went on and on about Kip’s dad and his condition and I wondered how they found out. Did Kip reveal it in one of his pre-tournament interviews? Had they been talking about it while we were at the final table? Regardless, I know one thing is certain — this will make for one of the best headlines in the tournament’s history.
FISH TAKES HOME GRAND PRIZE, HONORS FATHER WITH WIN.
I smile, finally standing and inhaling a long, slow breath. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”
I take my time making my way downstairs, and don’t rush as I walk the Strip to the Bellagio. It’s not too far from the Aria, and my stomach flips with every step as I let myself overthink what he wants to talk about. Does he want to know if I threw the tournament? Does he want to know if I’m okay after the loss?
Does he want to tell me he still loves me, that he wants to be with me?
I shake the possibility from my head, trying to remind myself that everything between us was just a game for him. It was a means to an end, and even if I still love him — and perhaps, always will — it doesn’t mean he feels the same.
And that’s okay.
For once, I’m not asking what’s in this for me. For once, I care about someone else’s happiness more than mine.
To me, that’s what love really is.
The strip is alive as I walk toward the fountain, the lights bright and energy buzzing. Groups pass me in a blur, smiles and laughter blending together with the distant dings from the slot machines to create the Vegas symphony. I just smile, tucking my hands in my pockets and scanning the crowd for Kip. A warm breeze tickles my neck when I find him, and suddenly my feet are lead. All I can do is stand and stare.
He’s facing the fountain, his shoulders slumped like he’s convinced himself I’m not going to show. His hair is mussed, and even from the back, I spy the black frames of his glasses — those stupid glasses that proved to be such a weakness for me.
Kip turns, looking over the shoulder farthest from me, his face searching the crowd. When he turns over the other one, his eyes catch on mine just as another breeze whips through my hair.
A minute stretches between us, dancing like a year, with his diamond blue eyes locked on mine.
My breaths are shallow but steady, and I finally force my feet to move, carrying me toward him without our gaze ever breaking. He stands straighter as I make my way toward him, wiping his palms on his dark jeans. He’s nervous, and suddenly, I am, too.
When I’m just a few feet in front of him, Kip’s face washes over like a ghost, like he can’t find a single word to say now that I’m here. So, I let out a breath, and I say the first word.
“Hi.”
My voice is barely above a whisper, but it visibly stabilizes Kip. He finally breathes again, though his eyes are still heavy, never leaving mine.
“Hi.”
I tuck the blowing strands of my hair behind my ear, chewing the inside of my lip. “Congratulations,” I finally offer, smiling a little.
“Thanks.”
He returns the smile, but it doesn’t stick, doesn’t warm me from the inside out like his smiles used to do. Instead, it settles us into a long moment of silence, the two of us standing and staring, not knowing what to do.
Kip shoves his hands into his pockets, shaking his head just slightly as his eyes continue to search mine, like he’s sure he’ll find all the answers there. “Skyler…” He says my name like a curse. “Why did you do it?”
My heart skips a beat before kicking back into gear, but I don’t let an ounce of emotion show on my face.
“Do what?”
“Don’t make me say it. You know what.”
I shrug. “Maybe I was trying to have more faith in our lucky number.”
“You knew before he even dealt those fours in the flop that I had a pocket pair. Don’t act like you didn’t,” Kip says, his eyes level. Then, his brows bend together, his eyes still on mine. “Why did you let me win?”
I sigh, crossing my arms over my middle. “Because, Kip,” I say, wishing I didn’t have to explain. It was easy to make the decision, but to defend it? Not so much. “I knew you wanted this for your dad, and, frankly you deserved it.”
“And you didn’t?”
“I didn’t say that.” I huff, anger surging up inside me.
Can’t he see it? Can’t he see the real reason I made the decision I did?
“My reasons for wanting to win were no better than yours,” he says, stepping a little closer. “Skyler, this was important to you and your family.”
“Well, maybe it wasn’t as important to me as you!” I yell, and as soon as
the words leave my mouth, I know there’s no going back now.
A few bystanders glance our way before skittering apart, and I shift my weight, pulling a strand of hair between my fingers. I don’t want to look at Kip, don’t want to see his face after what I just said, but I can’t look anywhere else.
“Are you saying you’re not important to me?”
“No,” I answer. “I’m saying you didn’t have a choice. I did. The runner-up prize is plenty for me to pay off school and set my family up, Kip.” I shake my head, still playing with my hair. “And even if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t matter. You did this for your dad, for his dying wish. If it were me in your shoes, I know you would have done the same.”
Silence.
I can’t take my eyes off his, no matter how badly I want to find comfort in staring anywhere else but at him. His blue pools are wide with wonder, like he can’t believe I would do that for him.
Like he can’t believe I’m real.
“So, what does this mean?” he finally asks.
I shrug. “I don’t know. It means you won and I lost, I guess.”
“I don’t know if I agree with that.”
His answer is so quick, so sure, that I can’t do anything other than tilt my head as I try to digest it.
“I may have won the tournament,” he breathes, taking another small step toward me. “But did I lose you?”
For the first time tonight, I let myself look at the ground and away from him. My heart thumps hard in my chest, the beats echoing in my ears.
“I don’t know where we go from here, Kip,” I whisper, tears stinging behind my eyes. “I don’t know if we can come back from this. We lied. Both of us. We played games and even though all the cards are on the table now, I don’t know if this is a game we can finish playing and still survive.”
I look up just in time to see Kip’s bottom lip quiver as he looks up to the sky, willing himself not to give into his emotions. Slowly, he levels his gaze with me again, his chest deflating on a long breath.
“I’m sorry, Skyler. For everything,” he says, voice raspy and desperate. “And I know those two words won’t do anything to heal the fucking hole I’ve punched in you, but I mean them. And if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making sure you know that nothing in this world is more important to me than you are. Nothing.”
Legacy: A New Adult College Romance (Palm South University Book 4) Page 41
