Collided (Dirty Air Series Book 2)
Collided: Chapter 11

“So, don’t kill me, but I decided to plan something for your birthday.” Maya throws herself onto my bed.

“I regret telling you I’m a Taurus.” I groan.

“Don’t be dramatic. You not celebrating today should be a crime, seeing as even Taylor Swift wrote a song about feeling twenty-two.”

“My dad wasn’t big on celebrating birthdays while I was growing up. I’m much more of a Christmas kind of girl.” I flash her a smile.

Maya cringes. “Oh God. That alone proves why you deserve to do something to celebrate. Don’t worry. No one else will know it’s your special day. You should be happy, seeing as I decided to turn your birthday into a way to knock an item off on your list.”

“Now you’re talking.” I rub my hands together in my best evil genius impression.

She grabs her laptop and places it between us on the bed. “Get ready because we’re about to hustle hard.” She presses play, showing us a video of someone teaching viewers how to play poker.

“Oh, Maya. You know the way to make me happy.”

“Any normal girl would prefer some boozy brunch surrounded by friends.”

“Who needs that when we have strip poker? Speaking of, who are our victims? I hope they have thick wallets.” I waggle my brows.

Maya giggles as she leaves the bed. She rustles through her backpack before throwing me a gift bag. “Better study those videos and get ready. You’re about to clean house at Kulikov. I contacted some of the guys Santi used to race with and they’re up to playing with us tonight at 8 p.m. Room 128.”

I rip at the tissue paper, revealing a new graphic T-shirt saying One Casino. Two Casino. Three Casino. Poor.

“You might be the bestest friend I’ve ever had.” I jump off the bed and squeeze the air straight from her lungs.

“I have to support your healthy shirt obsession. Wear it tonight. They’ll already think you lost your money at the Monaco casinos.”

Maya leaves me to my own devices. I spend the better part of the next three hours studying everything there is to know about poker. By 8 o’clock, I’m well-versed in Texas hold ‘em and ready to kill with the shirt Maya bought me.

If all goes according to plan, I don’t intend on losing much clothes.

Maya meets me outside of the guys’ hotel room. She flashes me her clothes under her rain jacket, revealing too many layers of long sleeves under overalls, shorts, a bathing suit, and more. “Are you ready to hustle?”

“Please. I’m ready to eviscerate the competition.” I shimmy my shoulders.

“Good God you look mighty evil when you get that glint in your eye.”

The guys open the door to us. They’re two handsome racers, with broad shoulders and thick dark hair. They introduce themselves as Nikolai and Michail. Both of them speak with a heavy Russian accent.

We settle into our seats at the dining table, where our hosts pour us wine. Some card dealer they hired shuffles the cards.

“So, how many cards do we start with?” I channel my best Elle Woods impression.

“Three. Definitely three.” Maya hides her smile.

Nikolai laughs as he flashes us two fingers. “Are you sure you both know how to play? I can’t say I’d hate to see you both lose.”

Shameless flirt, this one.

“Yes. I heard this was just like Blackjack.” I roll my shoulders back, exuding confidence. Honestly, I hope I’m selling myself here.

Meryl Streep better hold on tight to her Oscar at night. I’m coming for it.

The guys break down each step for us as if we need it. Maya and I go along with their efforts, pretending we need further explanation of different hands. I don’t come off too strong at first. Some hands I lose on purpose, while others I win with a pretend shocked face.

After an hour, I’ve lost my T-shirt, sneakers, and funky socks to the pile of clothes.

Much to Nikolai’s disappointment, Maya continues stripping layers until she’s down to a T-shirt and jean shorts. He keeps staring at her as if her next hand is the last thing between him and catching a glance at her chest. Both men gave up their shirts first, which was a surprise to no one. To be honest, they’re rocking some good-looking abs under those race uniforms.

They may be handsome, but they’re not exactly my type. An image of Liam pops up in my head, which is unexpected. Unlike these guys, Liam makes my heart race from one look. I brush off the thought because this is no place to get lost in my head.

Slowly my pile of chips grows to a cool two thousand euros thanks to Nikolai and Michail losing too many rounds they were confident in. To be fair, I’ve also purposefully flashed a bit of cleavage, but God gave me the goods so it’s my job to use them.

Maya and Nikolai fold during the next round, leaving Michail and me to battle it out. Michail is the silent type, with plenty of chips to match his poker knowledge. He flashes me a confident smile as he goes all in with the chips he’s mainly won from Nikolai.

I’m talking eight thousand euros in. It’s hard not to think about what I can do with that kind of money.

A trip to Fiji doesn’t sound half bad at the moment. I imagine a cabana boy offering me a Corona as I tan on a beach bed by the ocean.

I look at my cards again. With a seven of spades and a five of clubs, it’s a risk. One I can’t help wanting to take. Something in me tempts me to call his bet. Label it a birthday intuition.

“I call.”

Maya’s jaw drops open while Nikolai looks at me with a mix of respect and hesitancy.

“You sure about that, blondie?” Michail looks at me in disbelief. “Although I won’t mind checking you out in your underwear.”

Men, so easily distracted by the little things. “Sure. Let’s see the cards.”

The dealer reveals the flop of a six and nine of hearts, along with a king of clubs.

My heart beats rapidly in my chest. Michail lets out something that sounds vaguely like a curse word in Russian. Both of us stare at the deck as if it can reveal the answers. Blood rushes to my ears as my heart rate accelerates past what should be considered normal.

The dealer shows the next card.

“Holy shit.” Nikolai whispers as the dealer reveals an eight of hearts.

Maya and I both jump out of our chairs as we rush to hug one another.

“Oh my God, a Straight. You did it! You just won!” Maya squeals.

Michael stands to remove his pants.

I lift my hand. “Don’t bother. We’re done here, boys. Gotta leave before Lady Luck doesn’t want to share her magic anymore.”

Maya and I grab our money and clothes off the floor. Maya struggles to put on her layers before she decides to shove most of her clothes in her backpack.

“So that’s it? We lost all our money and didn’t even get to see you with all your clothes off.” Nikolai puts on his pants.

Michail flashes us a smile before he grabs his shirt off the floor. “I’d feel used, except you both were fun to hang around. We’ll have to do this again.”

As much fun as they’ve proven themselves, I think Santiago would kill Maya if she hung around these two more often. They scream trouble.

We say our goodbyes. Maya and I exit the hotel room arm in arm, laughing up to the ceiling as we walk back to my suite.

Turns out twenty-two is off to a strong start. I’ve made a good friend, knocked off a Fuck It list item, and won thousands of euros.

Siri, please cue Taylor Swift’s “22.”