Playing poker wasn’t really risky for someone when they were an expert, which Shawn was. Still, he’d thrown on a few extra layers of clothing when they’d decided to play strip poker, because he wasn’t a complete fool.
He’d been confident-Shawn bluffed with the best of them and he had an eidetic memory. There was no way he was going to lose against his friends.
He’d been wrong.
Lassie’d begged off when he lost his tie. Gus giggled, a now-empty chip bowl held to his front as he gathered his clothes to leave. And then it was just Shawn and his nemesis-the con artist’s daughter.
Juliet gave an impish smile. “One more hand? Winner chooses what clothing comes off next.”
Considering Shawn just had his cowboy hat and boxers on while she’d only lost her jacket? No bet.
“C’mon, Shawn. Live a little,” she winked.
“Oh, my little demon,” he whispered. “I'm up to the challenge.”
Two minutes later, he set down a winning hand. He looked up at her with a smirk and cocked an eyebrow.
“Well,” she said softly. That devilish smile returned as she toyed with a button on her shirt. “How the tables have turned.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
I have not forgotten my love for Psych or this wonderful fandom family!
Written for the discord's drabble challenge. Prompt: I'm up to the challenge.
Written for the discord's drabble challenge. Prompt: I'm up to the challenge.
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