Bad Girl Reputation by Elle Kennedy

The rest of the hand quickly plays out, with Tate taking a small pot as everyone either folds or calls. Hardly worth the excellent hand. I almost feel bad for the guy. Almost.

“You gonna have the boat ready for tomorrow?” Danny glances at Luke for an answer, while Tate deals the next hand. Danny’s another friend from high school, a tall ginger who works with Tate at the yacht club as a sailing instructor.

“We put it on the water this morning.” Luke sighs. “The thing’s more duct tape than fiberglass at this point, but it’ll float.”

“Think you’ll try to stay on the race route this time?” Coop glances at his cards, then tosses his chips in for the small blind.

The big blind falls to me this time. Peeping my cards, I luck out with a pair of nines. I can work with that.

“Let me ask you something,” Danny says, popping the cap on another beer. “When the teenage girl on the Jet Ski had to tow your sad little dinghy back to the dock, did your balls physically recede back into your body, or just fall off altogether?”

Luke flicks a bottle cap that smacks him between the eyes. “Ask your mom. They were in her mouth last night.”

“Dude.” Danny deflates, his expression sad. “That’s not cool. My dad’s in the hospital. He has to have hernia surgery from railing your sister last night.”

“Whoa.” Luke flinches, staring horrified at Danny. “Too far, man. That’s messed up.”

“What, how is that different?”

They go on like that, occasionally remembering to call or raise as Tate lays down the flop then the turn. Meanwhile no one is noticing I’m running up on a full house. Easy money.

“I’m racing tomorrow,” I say casually, raising the pot again.

“Wait, what?” Cooper arches an eyebrow at me. “In the regatta?”

I shrug while the guys call my bet to see the river. “Yeah. Riley mentioned it sounded like fun, so I put our names in.”

“Riley?” Tate asks blankly.

“His Little Brother,” Chase supplies.

“You guys have another brother?”

“No, nimrod.” Chase shakes his head. “His Little Brother, like that charity thing.”

“Where did you get a boat?” Tate demands, dealing out the river card. And there’s my flush.

“Weird Pete had one at the yard,” I tell him, watching everyone limp into the pot. “Some guy stopped paying rent a few months ago, so it’s been sitting around.”

“You do realize you don’t know anything about sailing, right?” Coop’s been paying attention, though, and he quietly folds.

“I watched a couple videos. Anyway, Riley can sail. How hard can it be?”

The regatta is an annual event in the bay. It’s a short course, the entrants a fairly even mix of tourists and locals sailing two-man crews on little boats. Some of the guys have competed for years, but this will be my first time. While I warned him we might be lucky to finish at all, Riley seemed stoked on the idea when I brought it up. I figured I ought to start relating to what he’s into if I’m going to take this Big Brother thing seriously.

“Welp,” Danny says with a self-assured grin. “Good luck with that.”

I win the pot with little trouble, the guys all looking at the table like they blacked out for the last ten minutes, uncertain how they let me run away with that one. Poker’s as much a game of misdirection as anything else.

“I hope Arlene can come out for the race.” It’s Cooper’s turn to deal. He tosses the cards at us while peering at me sideways. “I’m sure she’d hate to miss your big day.”

“Eat me.” My cards are trash. Best I can hope for is to pick up a flop pair.

Luke tucks his cards away like they tried to bite him. “Who’s Arlene?” he asks.

My brother grins broadly. “Evan’s got a stalker.”

“Jealous,” I answer.

Cooper continues, chuckling to himself. “Old lady from the nursing home got his number somehow and calls him at all hours. She’s smitten.”

“You should hit that.” Tate chucks his empty beer bottle in the garbage can and is rewarded with a glare from Cooper when we hear it shatter. “Old broads put out.”

“First, gross,” I say, stunned as I find myself with three of a kind when Cooper deals the flop. “Second, I’ve taken a new vow of abstinence.”

Wyatt snorts. “Come again?”

“Not anytime soon,” Cooper answers, swallowing a laugh. Child.

“You got the clap or something?” Danny gets some bright idea to steal this pot and splashes it with an overaggressive raise that says he’s working on a full house.

“No.” I roll my eyes. “Call it a spiritual cleanse.”

Tate coughs out a “horseshit” while folding.

“I say Evan doesn’t make it one week.” Danny throws a ten-dollar bill on the table. Dick.

“I’ll take that action,” Coop scoops up the bill, adding his own to it. “Anyone say five days?”

“I got five.” Tate slaps down his money.

“Wait, does the stranger count?” Wyatt makes a jerking motion in the air with his left hand.

“You offering?” I wink at him.