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"I…"

He raises his brows and tilts his head to the side, then shoots me finger guns as he walks away backward.

God, that guy has me so twisted up inside.

That doesn't stop me from enjoying my pizza, though. I take big bites of gooey cheese and delicious pineapple, sipping on one of the fancy beers they brought home. Around me, everyone elsedoes likewise. As they do, they shoot the shit about their day, and I chime in, too, falling into the conversation as if I've been a part of this group for years—not weeks.

And it's almost uncomfortable to be so…well, comfortable. Richard was the kind of guy who eclipsed your life while you were dating. I didn't realize it at the time, but as soon as we broke up, it became painfully clear that all of our friends were actuallyhisfriends. I had good people I worked with—people who had my back. But no one that I would just hang out with like this.

By the time all the boxes start to get cleared away, my belly is pleasantly full, and my head is just the right kind of floaty—tipsy without edging over into drunk. It feels nice. I tip my beer back again, finishing it off, then accept a refill when Deandre places one in my hand.

"So, you guys planning on sitting around gabbing all night?" Jax asks, showily playing with a stack of chips. "Or are you ready to play cards?"

That second option is met with enthusiasm. Chips start getting doled out. Adam seats himself at the table and starts shuffling, making bridges that would make a Vegas dealer proud. I start to reach for a pile of chips, only to have Jax stop me.

"Sorry, toots. You gotta have a buy in."

"Excuse me?"

Everyone else just took their chips. What the hell?

"I have money." Not a ton—I am a teacher, after all. But some.

"Your money's no good here." Jax nods at Adam. "He pays in technical support and cookies." Sergio. "Gun cleaning and knife sharpening." Deandre. "Extra hours at the mill, working like a stiff like the rest of us instead of the usualartistbullshit."

Deandra pipes in, "That artist bullshit pays your bills, asshole."

Jax ignores him. "Cayden lets us all live here for free, so he gets a pass."

"And what about you?"

"Don't you worry about me. The question is what you bring to the table."

I glance around. Shit.

There's only one thing I can think of right off the top of my head.

And it's one thing to offer it to all these guys for free.

It's another all together to put it out there like this.

To treat my body like it's something to be lost…

Or won.

25

Ihave no idea how long I stand there, mouth opening and closing like I'm some kind of land-based fish. It must be too long, though, because eventually Jax's wicked smirk fades.

"Hey. I mean—"

Cayden interrupts. "Haley's a wicked artist. She could do portraits."

"I'm not that good," I promise, finally finding my words again.

"Sure," Jax said, even though it's clear that art was not what he meant.

"Kisses," I blurt out. Because that's cute, right? I'm not offering sex for a poker match, but kisses seem both sexy and…safe.