Page 18 of Infatuation (The Josh & Kat Trilogy #1)

Eleven

Josh

“Hard four!” the dealer yells.

“Woohoo!” Kat shrieks.

“You’re on fi-yah, sistah!” Sarah shouts. She shakes her ass into Jonas’ crotch, and he gropes her ass and hips.

The dealer pushes a stack of chips at Kat and she leans over the craps table to collect them—which, of course, gives me the perfect opportunity to ogle her backside.

Jesus. That sequined mini-dress of hers is barely longer than a men’s dress-shirt, and holy shit, she’s working it hard .

Endless, toned legs. Sky-high heels. Long, tousled blonde hair cascading down her back.

And a tight little ass to cap it all off.

In summary, the girl is smoking hot. Gorgeous.

Sexy. Beautiful. I can’t come up with enough praise to do her justice. She’s physical perfection.

An old dude in a Hawaiian shirt on the other side of Kat leans into her shoulder. “What number ya feeling, Blondie?”

Kat picks up the dice. “I’m not sure,” she answers. “I’m just gonna bet the pass line this time—I’m not getting a vibe.”

“Oh, I’m feeling a six for sure,” Sarah says confidently, wiggling her ass into Jonas’ crotch again. “I’m feeling hella sixy right now, baby.”

Jonas presses himself into Sarah and wraps his arms around her. “Oh, my precious baby’s feeling sixy, is she?”

“Yes, sir, baby-sir,” she says. “Sixy as hell.”

Jonas throws a couple thousand bucks in chips onto the table. “On six,” he says to the dealer, his free hand running up and down Sarah’s torso. “Always bet on Sarah Cruz.”

“Hard or easy six?” Hawaiian Shirt Guy asks Sarah, clearly hanging on her every word .

“Easy,” she answers.

Jonas nibbles her neck and pulls her hips into him forcefully. Jesus. Who the fuck is my brother right now? I’ve never seen him act like this with a woman, ever. He’s acting like... me.

“Oh my,” Sarah says, laughing. “Easy six... and hard... Jonas .”

Jonas bursts out laughing.

Kat and I look at each other, grimacing.

“I don’t know whether to swoon or barf,” Kat whispers to me and I chuckle.

“I’m definitely leaning toward ‘barf,’” I reply.

“Easy six,” Hawaiian Shirt Guy yells to the dealer, jumping on the Sarah-train.

“Me, too,” I say, throwing a couple orange chips onto the table. “And for the lady, too,” I add, throwing a thousand-dollar chip to the dealer for Kat.

“Josh, no. You already gave me plenty of gambling money. I’ll use the money you gave me.”

“Nah, put that away, PG. I’ve got a feeling—trust me.”

In a sudden flurry, every other guy at the table follows suit, throwing their chips onto six, all of them betting on Sarah’s intuition.

Kat picks up the dice. “Jeez, talk about pressure,” she mutters. She tosses the dice onto the table.

Easy eight.

Everyone at the table cheers. It’s not a six, true, but it’s not crapping out, either, which means we’re all still alive.

The dealer quickly distributes winnings on the roll.

“Bets?” the dealer invites.

“Yeah, add this to my six,” I say to the dealer, tossing yet another pumpkin to him. “Plus another one for the lady,” I say, tossing yet another orange thousand-dollar chip onto the table.

Kat looks at me with wide eyes. “No, Josh. Stop . No more.”

I wink. “Humor me,” I say. “I have a feeling.”

Kat presses her lips together, but she doesn’t argue. She holds the dice out to Sarah.

“ Vaya con dios, ” Sarah says with solemnity. She blows on them.

“Come on, Blondie,” Hawaiian Shirt Guy says. “Roll us a six.”

Kat rolls. Five . Everyone at the table cheers. We’re still alive.

“Add this to the lady’s bet on the six,” I say, throwing the dealer another orange. “And put this on mine.” I throw him three more orange chips.

Kat takes a deep breath, blows on the dice, and rolls again. Jackpot.

The entire table erupts. Kat and Sarah leap into each other’s arms, jumping up and down, while Jonas and I look on, laughing hysterically and shaking our heads.

When Kat disengages from Sarah, she sees the mammoth stack of chips headed her way from the dealer.

“Oh my effing God,” she says, her face suddenly turning to ash.

She scoops up her winnings with shaking hands, suddenly looking like she’s gonna puke.

“I’ve gotta stop rolling now,” she says, her voice tight. “That’s it for me.”

“You can’t stop,” I say. “Your roll’s not finished.”

“I can’t... I’ve gotta stop. I can’t gamble anymore. Oh my God.”

“Good call, Kitty Kat,” Sarah says. “Quit while you’re ahead. Speaking of which.” She turns around, puts her arms around Jonas’ neck for the millionth time tonight, and whispers something into his ear.

Jonas’ entire body jolts. He abruptly pushes all his chips over to Kat’s already mammoth stack, grabs Sarah’s hand, and yanks her away from the table like he’s pulling a blowup doll. “See you guys later,” he calls out over his shoulder.

“See you, bro,” I shout. “Have fun.”

And just like that, the lovebirds disappear into the crowded casino.

“Wait, Jonas!” Kat yells. “Your chips!” But he’s long gone. “Jonas gave me his chips,” Kat says, her eyes wide. “Oh my God. He gave me his chips.”

“Because he wanted you to have them.”

“But that’s got to be—” She does a cursory count of the chips in front of her. “Holy shitballs! Almost fifteen thousand bucks! Plus what I won on that last roll, thanks to your extra bets—oh my effing God. I’ve got like twenty thousand bucks here, Josh.”

“Congratulations.”

“But . . .”

“Kat, whatever Sarah said to Jonas to make him shove those chips at you was obviously far more enticing to him than any amount of money. ”

Kat’s mouth is hanging open. Obviously, this is a life-changing amount of money for the girl.

“Take it, Kat. You just made everyone at this table a crapload of money, including me. That’s how Vegas works, baby. You earned it.”

The dealer shoves the dice at Kat. “Still your roll, miss,” he says.

She shakes her head. “You roll for a while, Josh. I’ll just watch.” She plops a tall stack of orange chips in front of me on the ledge of the table.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“The money you gave me to gamble with at the beginning, plus the oranges you just threw onto the six for me.”

“Come on, Blondie. It’s still your roll,” Hawaiian Shirt Guy says, clearly getting annoyed.

“Josh, I can’t.” She looks at me for help, her face tight.

“She’s done,” I say forcefully—even though I know it’s unthinkable for a hot roller to quit mid-roll.

Hawaiian Shirt Guy starts protesting, but I glare at him, making him shut his fucking mouth.

I tip the dealers a thousand each and scoop up my chips.

“Come on, Blondie,” I say, staring down Hawaiian Shirt Guy. “Let’s go celebrate our good fortune.”

We begin walking toward the cashier, our hands overflowing with our bounty.

“I can’t keep all this,” Kat says. “This is an insane amount of money.”

“Don’t overthink it.”

She holds out her chips. “Really, I can’t. Take it before I give in to temptation.”

I tilt my head at her. “You got a car payment?” I ask.

She nods.

“Will this pay off the loan?”

She snorts. “And then some.”

“Then that settles it. It would be fiscally irresponsible for you not to accept this money. Don’t be fiscally irresponsible, Kat.”

She looks unsure.

I chuckle. “Seriously, Kat. That’s chump change to Jonas, and you just made me a ton of money. See?” I hold out my chips to prove it. “I’m rich !”

She purses her lips. “Well... are you gonna expect something in return? ”

“Nope. No strings attached.”

Surprisingly, her face flashes with disappointment, not relief.

Interesting.

“Although, of course,” I quickly add, “I do expect to get something from you tonight—something that’s gonna be so fucking awesome, you’re gonna thank me profusely and beg me to do it again and again.

But you’re gonna give it to me because you wanna do it so fucking bad, it hurts—not because you’re paying me back for a few stupid gambling chips. ”