“So why now?”
His eyes and mouth soften, and he looks at me through a serene gaze, stroking his hand over my hair. “I don’t know, Ava.”
I’m once again skeptical. The shift in his behavior with me is stark. This guy fuckinghated me, with a capital H, for weeks. I don’t believe for a second that he managed catch feels just because we actually had sex. So that leaves only one explanation.
“You really need to let this go, Lucky. It was an accident, and I’m fine.”
His expression doesn’t really give anything away. “Okay, Ava.”
Seventeen
Ava
Quarantine Day 50
One weekafter the wild sex that shattered the mirror and sliced up my back, Lucky and I have settled into a comfortable, casual, sexy thing.
I’m not sure what to call it, but I know whatnotto call it.
A relationship? No. Definitely not.
Friends with benefits?Eh. That doesn’t feel quite right either.
Lucky called it a distraction from the beginning, and that seems about as accurate as I can figure out. I don’t know what it is, but it involves me living in his master suite, sharing his bed, and us having lots andlotsof dirty sex.
Distracting, indeed.
And apparently, the one absolute of quarantine is that distractions abound. Earlier this week, Meyer announced that the Jazz Manor would be holding a weekly poker night in order to keep everyone distracted from being trapped here for that much longer.
Three hours into the first official poker night, Meyer, Piper, Pearl, Harloe the soul queen vocalist, Lucky, and I are sitting around the dining room table with cards and chips and drinks and cigars, pleasantly tipsy and thoroughly distractedfrom the fact that this gorgeous old mansion is basically a luxurious prison we’ve all been sentenced to by the governor.
To my left, Meyer pushes his cards to the center of the table. “Ah fuck it. I’m out.”
Lucky, seated to my right and a lot closer than Meyer, gestures incredulously at him with an upturned palm. “What’s wrong with you, Lowenstein? This poker game was your idea, and you been folding almost every single hand.”
Meyer pushes back from the table and strolls to the side bar to refill his drink. “The point is for us to have some kinda routine.” He turns to wave his crystal lowball glass at the table. “Routine keeps ya from going nuts. So one of our routines is that we play poker on Friday nights.”
Lucky picks up his drink and swirls it. “That’s a lot of words for, ‘I’m total shit at poker.’” He swallows a large sip, then sets down the glass and drapes his arm around my shoulders, leaning sideways to kiss my neck. “How’s it going, Ava doll? Got a good hand?”
I clutch my cards to my chest and lean away from him. “It’s going great, and you’re not seeing my cards.”
“Come on now, baby, I ain’t trying to see your cards.” He winks at me. “I’m just trying to get a good luck smooch.”
I simper, still clutching the cards to my chest as I lean toward him to meet his lips for a deep, yet quick kiss. “If your name is any indication, you don’t need any help from the likes of me in that area.”
Harloe stacks some chips and pushes them forward. “Raise.”
On the other side of the table, Piper squints at the stack and then peers at Harloe with an arched eyebrow. “I love you, Harloe, but I’m about to wipe the floor with you.”
“Oh, no, ma’am.” Harloe rests her elbows on the table and folds her hands under her chin, offering Piper a raised eyebrow. “You’re not gonna be wiping anything but your own tears when I take all your money.”
“Excuse me.” I flip my free hand in the air and then gesture at Lucky and myself. “There are still two other people in this game.”
Piper blindly flits her wrist at Lucky and me. “Yes, and we all know those two people are about two minutes from folding and heading back up to the third floor.” She slides a coy glance at us. “Just try not to break anything this time. I’m too tipsy to do first aid right now.”
Lucky bites his bottom lip and cracks a mischievous grin, tossing his cards on the table. “You’re right. I’m out, too.” He slides his chair right next to me and wraps his arm around my waist to pull me close to him. “Now, show me what you got, sweetie.”
I click my tongue, tilting the cards toward him while I stack enough chips to match Harloe’s bet and start to push them forward.
