Kellan and I gasped in unison from the sidelines, and I watched George carefully. He loved escalating bets, as I well knew. Would he take the bait?

“Tempting. You putting up a second ticket?”

Oh. That I hadn’t been expecting. At all. George wasn’t supposed to guess our fake-out. And Jasper had scored a second from Conrad, but it had come with the warning that the event was now completely sold out. No other help was incoming.

Jasper made an indignant noise. “I don’t—”

“You’re crap at bluffing. Of course you’ve got the hookup. Come on. You want me to go double or nothing, you do it too.”

Jasper subtly darted his gaze my direction. Crap. Way to put me on the spot. I’d told him not to gamble his future. But I also believed in him, believed him when he told me the job situation would work itself out. It wasn’t so much that I thought this was Jasper’s only chance, but rather my own mixed-up emotions as to how much I wanted him to stake on me. He was a sure thing. Me? I was the bad bet. I didn’t want to be the reason he lost even a single opportunity. But I was also supposed to be working on trusting him more. Letting us each make our own choices. He was trusting me about selling the car. Maybe I was supposed to do the same here.

I shrugged, then gave the barest of nods, trying to convey that it was up to him.

“You’re on.” Jasper smacked the table for emphasis, eyes glinting. Yeah, he’d wanted this moment, wanted to have it all on the line.

And now he did, but he was playing like it too, slow, cautious moves that kept getting blocked. Where was aggressive Jasper? Was his confidence shot because of the loss? Was he too nervous now? I bit my finger, trying not to reveal my worry but probably failing.

“You’re on the rocks, Quigley. Better have a good comeback.”

I held my breath, unsure whether Jasper could pull this off. I wanted to believe in him, wanted this for him more than for me, but things were looking decidedly bleak. Everything came down to his next move.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Jasper

“Well? I’m waiting. I’ve got plans after I win.” George’s cockiness was infuriating as always. I rearranged my hand of cards, like it might give me different answers if I sorted them in a different order.

“You and your plans can chill.” I shot a look at his two companions who’d seemed super bored the whole match. The guy had his phone out and the girl had filed her nails, written in a leather day planner, and read over some printed handouts all in the time we’d been playing. At least she was getting shit done. Unlike me. “I’m thinking.”