Page 75 of The Cost of Blood and Bonds

Grier enters last and finds me and doesn’t look away. Doesn’t check himself or bank it down like something shameful. He just…looks. Like I’m the only thing in the room worth seeing, and it makes my chest loosen.

The room fills with noise, Rosie hugging me, Finn cracking a joke about Hayes’s card skills, and Hayes pretending to be offended. The easy chaos of people who’ve learned to be friends in stolen moments.

We settle around the table.

Finn takes the dealer’s seat, shuffling with that easy confidence he uses like armor. Grier sits beside him with his arms crossed. Hayes pulls out a chair for Rosie. I take the seat next to Grier.

Ryewood takes the seat beside mine, but not close. There’s space where there didn’t used to be, deliberate and unmistakable. I feel it like a bruise.

“Terrath Hold’em,” Finn announces, dealing. “You know the rules. Try not to embarrass yourselves.”

The first hands pass in a blur of bets and banter.

Finn takes one with a bluff so obvious that Hayes groans. Rosie surprises everyone by winning the next few with that soft smile of hers. Grier watches more than he plays.

My glass is already half empty. I finish it, chasing the burn like it might drown out this feeling.

Ryewood refills it without asking. His fingers brush mine as he hands it back, but this time, he pulls away quicker. The message is clear. I can have the whiskey, not him.

A few hands later, the river lands in my favor, a full house. Time to make my move.

“All in,” I say, pushing my chips in and turning to Grier to see if he’s going to call.

“I can’t decide if you’re bluffing or you’re going to swindle me for my coin like always, Gemma,” he says, a knowing smile tugging at his mouth.

“Guess you’ll have to call to find out,” I say, giving him an innocent look.

He laughs, low and warm, the kind of laugh he doesn’t give easily.

“The only time I’ve ever beat you is when you’ve had far too many of these.” He taps my whiskey glass, fingers lingering near mine. “How many have you had tonight?”

“Far too many,” I say, letting my smile turn slow. “You should definitely call.”

He doesn’t answer right away, just watches me with that steady focus.

“Fold,” he finally says, leaning in closer, dropping his voice low. “I know better than to bet against you.”

I hold his gaze longer than I should, and I don’t hate the way it feels.

Next to me, I can feel Ryewood stiffen and see his hand grip tightly around his drink.

Finn folds with a dramatic sigh. Hayes follows, shaking his head. Rosie sets her cards down, like she’s watching something more interesting than the game.

Which leaves Ryewood.

“Well, Ryewood?” I say, letting the challenge hang. “Call or fold?”

I turn to face him fully.

Ryewood studies me, with his thumb running along the edge of his cards, eyes steady on mine like he’s reading something other than my hand.

“Oh, I’m calling,” he says, pushing his chips forward. “I want to see what you’re hiding.”

The words land somewhere they shouldn’t. My gaze drops to his mouth and lingers there long enough to be a confession. I force myself to pull back and find his eyes. They have gone dark, heavy in a way that has nothing to do with poker.

Under the table, his knee finds mine and slides along it, dragging heat with it. Relief floods so deep it almost aches. I hate myself for the way my body softens against him.

I flip my cards. Full house.