“Again?” He glances down, reaches for the cards, but I put my hand over his to stop him. His head lifts, his perfectly styled blond hair a little mussed from running his shaky hand through it. “Double or nothing?”
“No time.” I pick up my phone to check for messages. “I have somewhere to be.” I don’t, but I’m not playing him again. I’m sure I could beat him, but taking his money isn’t the point here.
“Listen, I can’t—”
“Can’t what?” I ask, and take my coat off the back of my chair as I cast Andrew a glance, wondering if he’s going to step in. Looks like he’s going to let me handle things my way and that’s fine. I give him a nod to let him know I’ve got this and he steps away, leaving us to battle it out.
Cochrane leans in, and steals a glance around. “I can’t get the money to you tonight.”
I give a low, slow whistle. “That’s against the rules, bro.”
“Yeah, look, can you give me a week or two?”
I click my tongue and give a slow shake of my head. “Don’t think so. There’s a new ride I’ve had my eyes on.” I put my hands out, and mimic the action of revving a motorcycle. Yeah, he owes me a shitload of money. I lift my hand, like I’m about to gesture the private security guard over, and Cochrane pushes his chair back.
“Don’t.”
I drop my hand. “Don’t what? Don’t tell anyone you can’t pay?”
“I can pay, it’s just going to take me a while.”
I shrug into my Falcons coat, and fold my arms. “I’ll wait while you call Daddy.”
He curses under his breath, and pulls his phone from his pocket. He scrolls, but he’s stalling.
“I want my money, Cochrane. Tonight.” I bite back a chuckle, and decide to let him squirm just a little while longer. The truth is, I already won. I don’t need his money, or a new motorcycle. My old one serves me well.
“Look.” he leans closer, all conspiratorial like. “My girl…”
Okay, now he has my interest. “What about her?”
“You like her. I know you do.”
I don’t. Sure, I was nice to her when I shared a room with Cochrane. Why wouldn’t I be? But all right, let’s see where he’s going with this. “What does that have to do with any of this?” I wave my hand over the disarray of cards. “You want me to play her or something? I mean, if you’re desperate for me to take her money—”
“You can take her.”
I sit there, my ears buzzing with the hum in the basement, positive I’m not hearing him correctly. Cochrane did not just offer his girlfriend up in exchange for money, right? No way, no how did he mean that. If he did, I might just have to beat the shit out of him once and for all.
I stare at him, trying to regulate my breath, slow the pulse at the base of my neck as I wait for him to continue, and he finally does.
“I don’t have the money right now,” he lowers his voice and continues with, “Reagan, maybe you can…I don’t know…”
“Fuck her?” I blurt out for shock value, and his nostrils flare as he scrubs his face.
He shakes his head. “No, I don’t mean that.” He tugs on his hair, clearly digging himself in deeper and it’s going to be fun to watch him try to come out of this with a shred of decency left. Who offers up their girlfriend? “I just, maybe you can hang out with her or something. I’m not suggesting sex. It’s not on the table.”
“Yeah, because that would make her a whore, Cochrane.”
“She’s not a whore. She’s just the only thing I currently have of value.”
Holy fuck.
My heart beats a little faster against my chest, and as my shock ebbs, rage takes its place. To think this guy would actually use his girlfriend for payment…I mean…I can’t even wrap my brain around that. I always knew he was a dick. I just never knew he was this big of a one. Reagan does not deserve a douche bag like this for a boyfriend, one who is willing to trade her to cover his own ass.
Speaking of asses. Reagan has the sweetest ass I’ve ever set eyes on. The sweetest everything…but I am not going to take her in exchange for money. That is fucking ludicrous.
I crack my knuckles. “What the fuck would I want with Reagan?”
“She could maybe help you with your homework.”
“I’ve got straight As, dude.” I gesture to the cards. “I’m good in sciences and math.”
“Yeah, okay, well. Maybe she could…cook for you. She’s a great cook.”
“Keep going.”
He sits up a little straighter. “You could—”
“Show her what a loser you really are? Spread a little of this Rocco charm and take her from you, make her my own?” I’m just egging him on. Reagan is a nice looking princess, but a princess nonetheless, and we don’t belong together. Not in this world or any other.
He snorts. “Yeah, like she’s going to choose you over me, Rocco.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yes. She’s smarter than that.”
“Maybe I’ll prove you wrong.”
“Not going to happen.”
I glare at him, and don’t like the gleam in his eyes. “Listen, you fuck with me, I’ll fuck with you.”
“How?”
“By getting sweet princess Reagan to fall for me, to prove you wrong.” I’m bluffing. I’m not an ass who goes around playing with other people’s feelings.
“You
