Poker Night by Dusty Miller

 
    Poker Night

    Dusty Miller
     
     
    This Smashwords edition copyright 2014
Dusty Miller and Long Cool One Books
     
    Design: J. Thornton
     
    ISBN 978-1-927944-17-2
     
     
    The following is a work of fiction. Any
resemblance to any person living or deceased, or to any places or
events, is purely coincidental. Names, places, settings, characters
and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. The
author’s moral right has been asserted.
     
     
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    Table of Contents
     
    Scene One
     
    Scene Two
     
    Scene Three
     
    About the Author
     
     
     
    Poker Night
     
     
    Scene One
     
     
    Austin
was tall, with soft features, yet boyishly lean. He had sad brown
eyes and a grin that lit up the place. When he got going, his
one-liners were real zingers, and some nights they just couldn’t
stop laughing. They’d been out a few times with a bunch of friends,
but then they started going out, just the two of them.
    Austin was so scared on the phone when
he called the first time. It really touched her, in a man so big
and confident otherwise.
    So far, he was painfully shy about
asking.
    Bethany had her mind all set to do
something about that. Austin had kissed her when dropping her off
after a movie, more than a week ago now, but then on the next date
he was so shy and diffident. It was like he couldn’t do it. The
first date was a wake-up call. They shook hands afterwards. She
really liked Austin and Ian was off in university. She was
convinced Austin was a virgin. Sex with Ian was all right, the few
times they actually did it. He’d pursued her all through
high-school, in a half-kidding, half-contemptuous manner. After
they had sex a few times, he was just different. He didn’t pay a
whole lot of attention to her after a while, and then expected her
to put out or something, at the drop of a hat. She wasn’t his first
choice, not at all. Not anymore. He was secretive. Something had
happened.
    She was a free woman—one who just
might do it for Ian when he had no one else on the line. Any deep
affection she’d had for him vapourized. She’d relied on his
attentions in some ways. She liked Ian. In many ways, he was a nice
guy, cute enough in his own way. Ian was better than nothing. And
he was gone, bitter realization that it was.
    Austin was different. He was obviously
interested, and didn’t act like he owned her. Such a gentleman,
too, always running around to hold the door open for her, holding
hands like he loved it when they walked any distance. He couldn’t
get enough of her. Austin had an inferiority complex to beat
anything she’d ever seen, unlike dear old Ian. And yet he was
good-looking, he was smart, funny, he dressed well. He had a job
and made good money. She had a feeling about Austin. Austin would
set out to change the world, and she liked that. Austin was a
hopeless romantic, and he kept calling her up. What was not to
like? She felt safe when she was with him, that streak of
protectiveness was very appealing. He was afraid of messing it up,
which really said something about how he felt about her. For him,
the stakes must seem very high. There was nothing casual about
Austin. That intensity intrigued Bethany very much.
    The TV went on and Austin headed to
the kitchen. She settled onto Austin’s sagging red couch, with
swirling paisley upholstery and art deco arms that might have
looked elegant in the 1930s. They had stopped at the liquor store.
He returned with two brimming glasses of a cheap, bubbly wine. She
insisted on chipping in, and