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At the tender encouragement in Liam’s voice, she glanced in his direction. Big mistake. His mesmerizing emerald eyes caught her gaze and held it, warming her from the inside out. Coughing, she looked away, her cheeks burning.
As Liam reiterated the rules, his close proximity made it all but impossible to think about anything but the kiss they’d shared. Yet she didn’t dare flirt with him, especially with Fordham and Bran present. The result would be even more pressure to tell Liam who she was, and she hadn’t worked up the courage yet.
I promised Fordham and Bran I would tell Liam the truth. But how am I going to break it to him?
The timing was terrible, with the anniversary of the accident tomorrow. He’d come here because he’d known Bran would keep him busy, so he wouldn’t have to relive the past. Her revelation would only stir up old feelings of hurt and loss. For her, it might be cathartic to confess her part at last—the selfish lie she’d told that fateful night, when the truth might’ve changed everything. But for him, it could only be painful.
She shouldn’t have let him kiss her. After all, he’d asked her permission. She could’ve said no.
Yeah, right. No chance I could’ve turned him down unless I was dead. Or at least unconscious.
There was only one way she could hide her feelings—she had to spike up her competitive spirit. “I don’t have to be great at it… all that matters is that I’m better than you.”
Laughing, Liam raised his hands in front of his face like she’d hurled a rock at him. “So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?”
“Yep.” Carly popped her P. “There’s no such thing asfriendlycompetition.”
She wasn’t faking it. Though she usually tried not to reveal her relentless drive to win, she hated losing at anything. She’d once felt a kinship with Liam in that respect, back when he was a fiercely competitive high school football player.
“In that case, prepare to be obliterated.” Liam’s eyes twinkled. The poor guy was blissfully unsuspecting of her impending revelation. It would hurt him, no matter how she explained it. “Because I’ve been practicing since I played here the first time.”
“You’ve been playing on Phantom All Cards?” Branson snagged a grape from a small bowl on the table and popped it in his mouth. Carly was more tempted by the bowl of M&Ms.
“I have.” Liam’s voice revealed genuine enthusiasm. “It’s an amazing website. There’s always someone to play with, twenty-four-seven.”
“There should be,” Bran said, lifting his chin. “We went over a million users all over the world the first month it was out. And what’s nice is it’s completely accessible, so able-bodied people compete with hearing and sight-challenged players, and they don’t even know the difference.”
“Please block me from joining that site,” said Carly. “I’ll never get my doctorate finished.”
“The point is, I was going to go easy on you, Carly.” Liam’s eyebrows danced. “But now, I’m going to destroy you.”
If only he knew how much he had already destroyed her. She’d had a school-girl crush on him for the past sixteen years. But meeting him again had only confirmed her feelings. Liam was an amazing guy. One she could never have.
One I’ll never deserve.
“We show no mercy. Take no prisoners.” Bran arched his hand across the table and Liam obliged with a fist bump.
“To the death,” Liam confirmed with a sharp nod.
“I’m quaking in my boots.” His words laden with sarcasm, Fordham looked toward the ceiling like he was praying for patience.
“You don’t even own a pair of boots, Fordham,” Bran said.
“Nor am I quaking in them.” Fordham gave Branson a flat stare.
“I can’t see you, Fordham,” Bran said, his mouth curving playfully.
“Obviously, my stare is so strong that you can feel it,” said Fordham. “Carly, my esteemed partner, you must go first in this round, and decide if you want the trump to be clubs. If so, remember that as the dealer, Branson gets to pick up that card he turned over.”
She forced her mind back to the game, her smile fading as she studied her hand. It didn’t look very good. She had no clubs or jacks. “I think I’ll pass.”
“Me, too,” said Liam.
“Master Branson,” Fordham announced in an imperious tone, “you may pick up that nine of clubs. Partner, you may lay your hand down, as I’ll be going alone on this round.”
Liam groaned as Fordham spread his cards on the table, announcing his cards for Bran’s benefit. “I have both bowers, along with the ace, king, and queen of clubs. And I believe that makes the score four to zero.”
Carly clapped her hands, thrilled she hadn’t had to do anything for them to win the first hand. “Yay! I may not know how to play, but I know how to pick the best partner.”
