Fern
I don't mean to leave my room. That's the lie I tell myself as Justin leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, with a crooked smile on his face like he's already won.
"Come on," he says. "One night."
"I don't play," I reply, tugging the blanket tighter around my shoulders. "Anything."
"That's perfect," he says. "Neither did half the table the first time."
I eye him suspiciously. "I don't play poker."
He grins. "There is a first time for everything."
I blink. "Absolutely not."
Justin laughs. "That was faster than I expected."
"I don't have money," I add, as if that seals it.
He waves a hand. "I'll cover you."
"That makes it worse," I groan.
"Only if you lose."
I study his face. He's sincere, annoyingly so, and there's no pity there, just a gen
