She tilted her head. “One more round?”
“I’m just lucky.”
“This is getting serious,” you said. date ariane – strip crazy eights
“Deal,” you said.
The card game was Ariane’s idea. “Strip poker’s too predictable,” she said, shuffling a battered deck with the ease of someone who’d spent too many rainy afternoons in dorm rooms. “Crazy Eights is about chaos. And chaos is… fun.” She tilted her head
Round two, you got lucky. You hoarded eights like a dragon, waiting for the perfect moment. When she changed the suit to diamonds, you dropped a diamond eight, changed to hearts, then another eight—clubs. She stared at the cascade. The card game was Ariane’s idea
You looked at her—the way the wine had softened her mouth, the way her hair fell across one eye, the way she hadn’t once looked at her phone.