Page 55 of Play For Me

The first round is quiet enough—everyone antes, a couple people fold early, and Cade ends up taking the pot with two queens.

Which, of course, means he spends the next five minutes celebrating like he won the freaking lottery.

“I thought you said he wasn’t good at this version,” Violet mutters to her twin. Ash shrugs, looking grumpy, as Cade pulls the chips from the pot.

“I’m a man of hidden depths,” Cade declares.

“You’re a man of hidden luck,” I shoot back.

He wiggles his eyebrows. “Maybe this was a bad game to switch to, CeCe.”

I glare. He grins wider.

Solomon, who’s sorting his small pile of chips, glances at me with amused sympathy. “Rough start?”

“Shh,” I tell him. “I’m recalibrating.”

That earns me a laugh—low, warm, and far too distracting.Focus, CeCe.Competitive mode activated. Time to crush Cade's spirit.

In a loving, family kind of way.

The next hand, I lock in. Seven-Card Stud isn’t complicated once you get into the rhythm, but paying attention is key. You have to watch what’s showing on the table and keep track of the cards that could help you or hurt you.

And I’m good at that.

I win the next hand and then the next. Cade’s confidence is starting to crack.

He groans when I rake another pile of chips toward me. “Why do we let her play? She’s a menace.”

“Thank you,” I say sweetly.

Solomon watches all of this with growing amusement. Every so often, when I make an especially aggressive bet, he leans back in his chair, arms crossed, eyes fixed on me like I’m the most interesting thing at the table.

It’s… distracting.

By the seventh or eighth hand, the non-Ransome players have all folded. Violet eventually gives up, setting her cards down with a dramatic sigh.

“I fold as a matter of self-preservation,” she says. “And because watching CeCe’s face right now is better entertainment than Netflix.”

“What’s wrong with my face?” I ask.

She beams. “Nothing. Solomon seems pretty into it.”

I choke on absolutely nothing. Solomon pretends to study his cards, but the corner of his mouth definitely twitches.

“Vi,” I hiss.

“Hmm?” she says, all innocence.

Heat explodes in my cheeks. “Can you all play instead of psychoanalyzing me?”

But it’s too late. Tension hums softly between me and Solomon now, growing each time our hands brush reaching for chips, each time our gazes catch and hold. I can’t name whatever it is that’s crackling in the air between us, but I feel it build, slow and steady.

Eventually, it’s just the two of us left.

Solomon has a modest lead. I still want to win—this is me, we’re talking about. I always want to win—but the truth is, I’m enjoying this. Knowing that he’s matching me card for card. The teasing glances. The way he studies me like he’s trying to memorize every reaction.

Cade deals the final down card. “Moment of truth,” he says.