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“Pocket rockets,” Rush says, tossing down a pair of aces.

“A bachelor’s dream,” Danny says, laying down four queens.

I laugh as I toss my cards face down on the table. I can’t beat four queens, that’s for sure. “I have jack and shit.”

“Same,” Nick says, tossing his cards on top of mine. Danny rakes in the chips in the middle of the table, and the deck passes to the left so it’s my turn to deal. Everyone antes up another chip while I shuffle.

“Jacks or better, trips to win,” I say, naming my game as I start dealing five cards to each of the four of us. We’re at Danny’s place, an apartment he’s renting not terribly far from the Strip until he figures out if he wants to settle here or not. We’ve eaten pizza and drank a lot of beer, and even though Nick continues to tell us we shouldn’t put that shit in our bodies, he’s not exactly leading by example.

We’re all a little buzzed, and the night has been full of laughter, teasing, and dirty poker terms. It’s been the kind of evening with buddies I sorely needed after the heaviness that met me in Chicago, but that doesn’t mean I’m not ready to bolt the fuck home and get back to my girl.

I miss her.

I realize we spent the last four days together, but it doesn’t matter. I fucking miss her. I want her here with me. I want her sitting on my lap, laughing along with me and the guys, being part of this group even though it’s boys’ night out.

This is good for us. It’s good for me .

“By me,” Nick says first to my left.

“Me too,” Rush says.

“I can open,” Danny says, and he tosses a few chips onto the pile. As always, he tries to distract the rest of us. “Just for the record, I shouldn’t even be here tonight, but I got clam jammed.”

“Clam jammed?” Nick repeats, clearly asking the question the rest of us are wondering.

“You know, clam jammed. The female equivalent of cock blocked. I was talking to this girl, her friend came over crying about how her dude is a d-bag, and the rest is history. She had to go be with her friend, of course, and here I am with you douchebags instead of sporking her right now.”

“Sporking?” Rush asks this time.

“You know, like spooning, but when you’re sporting wood and hoping it leads away from the spoon and over to the fork.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and I offer a chuckle.

“It’s a real wonder why you’re still single,” I say dryly.

He raises his brows pointedly. “You’re one to talk, asshole.”

Oh, right. He still thinks I’m single…and he’s the only one in this room who knows I was with Gabby. I think that also means his words were actually meant to hurt, not just to insult, and I should probably not say my next words since we’ve all been drinking and I know he’s going to blab about me and Gabby, but I do anyway. “I’m off the market.”

Everyone’s heads swing toward me this time, but I just quietly check my cards. I have a pair of kings…not bad to start, but since I called trips, or three of the same card, to win, that means I need three kings to win the pot.

I up the ante anyway, bluffing my way through. I’m losing a lot of money right now, and Danny has way more chips than he knows what to do with. It’s time to get some of those back.

When I go to draw my next cards, I up the bluff by only drawing two even though I have a better chance of pulling a king with three cards than with two. But this way, Danny thinks I’ve already got it in the bag.

He pulls three, so I know he doesn’t have trips. His face is stone as he looks at his cards, and suddenly a friendly game of poker between friends has gotten a bit more serious.

“What’s this off-market bullshit?” Danny asks.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss it.” I give him a pointed glance that he totally misreads.

“Are you back together with Gabby?”

Fuck.

I should’ve trusted my gut.

The more people who know about this, the more likely it’s going to get back to Troy before we’re ready to tell him.

I blow out a breath as I stare down at the cards I drew: a three to match the three I held onto along with a third king.

A fucking full house…a sure winner in a five-card game with no wild cards.

I push a large stack of chips to the middle of the pile to sweeten the pot. “What if I am?”

“Gabby the intern?” Rush asks at the same time Nick says, “Troy’s daughter Gabby?”

I lift a shoulder, pleading the fifth, and both Rush and Nick fold out of the hand by tossing their cards onto the table. It’s Danny’s turn, and he matches my pile of chips. “Call.”

I set my cards down on the table to show my full house to Danny’s muttered curse. He tosses his cards a little angrily onto the table facedown to indicate that he lost, and I rake the chips toward my side of the table.

I pass the deck onto Rush, who starts to shuffle while I organize my chips. I’m winning now, and Danny’s losing, and I chug down another beer. When I set the bottle down, Rush sets the cards down and studies me.

“What?” I ask, glancing over at him.

“Are you banging Troy’s daughter?” he asks.

“It’s not just banging,” I say, a little defensiveness in my tone.

“Oh, it’s sporking and forking and licking and sticking, if you catch my drift.” Danny makes a rude gesture as he slams the sides of his hands against his thighs as he sticks his tongue out.

“Subtle,” I mutter. I sigh. I guess I may as well be honest here. “Look, I met her before I knew she was Troy’s daughter. She left that fact out of the conversation just as I left out the fact that I used to play ball. She didn’t seem to know who I was and I kind of liked just being a guy who worked for a kids’ organization to her. She got to know the real me rather than the me that women tend to think I am, and then I found out she was Troy’s daughter when she was standing in his kitchen the morning after I moved here. I told her I couldn’t be with her, and we were apart a while, but it was all wrong.”

Rush lets out a low whistle.

“Does Troy know?” Nick asks.

I shake my head. “And I need you fuckers to keep this quiet while we figure out how we’re going to tell him.”

“Oh Jesus, please please please let me be there when you tell him,” Danny begs as he slams his palms together in prayer.

“That’s a hard no,” I say. “We’re going to do it after the draft sometime. Or maybe after the season starts. There’s too much on the line right now to complicate things with him, and this is all so new anyway. We’re just taking it slow and giving it time.”

“Damn, though. Isn’t she like barely legal?” Rush asks.

My brows dip as I shoot him a little glare. “She’s twenty-fucking-one.”

“Your number,” Danny says. “But more suitable for someone, say, six years younger than you.”

I blow out a breath as my hackles rise, and my glare turns on Danny. “Stay the fuck away from her,” I hiss.

He holds up both hands. “Okay, okay, man. I’m not going after your girl. I see the way she looks at you, anyway. She’d never give me the time of day. But if someone as clueless as me can see the way she looks at you, you best tell her to cool it in front of her daddy.”

“Good point,” I concede.

He’s probably right.

And that brings up another point. If he sees it…who else has?