The Gamble: A Novel

by Xavier Neal

  “You know, I've never been to a hockey game,” Alexxa says, pulling her brown hair to one side of her.

  The simple action drags my attention to her face, which I've found myself studying more and more.

  It's not flawless. She has a small scar under her chin from where she fell off her bike when she was six. She's got a tiny mole on her jaw line and one beside her left eye. Shit most chicks cover with make up she let's show freely. But then she has these little things that make all the flaws vanish. A dimple. Full lips. Bright brown eyes. I've honestly never spent this much time looking at anyone's face including my own. I don't know why I can't stop. It's not like there's instructions on how to get her to fuck me on it.

  “But I've always wanted to go. What about you? Do you even like hockey? I mean, I know you love football and basketball-”

  “And soccer.”

  “Hate golf and tennis. But you've never really mentioned anything about hockey other than 'Shut up Alexxa, I need to see if Dallas beat St. Louis' or whatever teams are playing for the week.”

  “It's somewhere in the middle.”

  “Can you ice skate?”

  I lean closer to whisper, “Of course. There's not much I can't do.”

  She gags and pushes my face away on a laugh.

  Catching a glimpse of the polish on her fingers, one of the only girly things she does, I try to sway the conversation in a useful direction. “I like that shade of red. Looks good.”

  Alexxa momentarily admires it. “Do you think the other hair dressers will like it too?”

  Why the fuck did I expect that to work? Maybe because it was an honest moment rather than just a well-placed observation? It's a nice fucking color on her, in a do you wanna be bent over my desk for a spanking naughty school girl kinda way.

  In a low whisper I grunt, “Fuck off. I was just trying to pay you a compliment.”

  “Currency denied.”

  I shake my head. “What about you? Can you ice skate?”

  “Oh yeah. Used to spend hours just twirling and practicing the toe loop, the flip, and the Axel.”

  “Seriously?”

  “No you, idiot. Who do I look like to you? Nancy Kerrigan?”

  Her sarcasm makes me smirk. “I'm actually impressed you know who that is.”

  “My parents made me watch the Olympics just like everyone else.”

  Seeing two players come from the locker room heading our direction, I lower my voice again, “I fucking love the Olympics.”

  Alexxa's face tilts at me as she whispers back. “It's like a giant jerk fest for you isn't it?”

  My eruption of laughter causes some of the kids to glance over their shoulders at me. I make a tornado motion for them to turn back around and once they do I question, “So you can't really skate?”

  “I can,” she replies. “I'm not an expert or anything, but during the summers growing up, I used to do it with some friends. The rink used to host free skate days every week. Got pretty good at it. Haven't done it in years. I should be okay, though.”

  Seeing the perfect chance to get what I want yet again, I casually suggest,“Wanna bet?”

  She crosses her legs. “On?”

  “Racing from one end of the rink to the other.”

  The two players start introducing themselves and asking basic questions such as does anyone recognize them followed by what the black object in his hand is called.

  Keeping my voice low I say, “If I win, you go on a legit date with me.”

  She sighs heavily, “This again?”

  “Yeah. This again.”

  I meet her eyes again, which seem to be filling with annoyance.

  Not sure why. I'm not the one constantly turning her down. Constantly making her brain go into overtime trying to figure out why I'm not good enough to get a yes.

  “Why do you suddenly wanna go out with me so bad?”

  “I think we'd have a great time together.”

  “We already have a great time together. Date not required.”

  Good point.

  “But we could have a better time. Dinner at The Peak? Looking out over the lake...”

  “Really? Your suggestion for an actual date with me is your favorite pick up place? How romantic.”

  Shit. I forgot she fucking knows that. That was....not a good play on my part.

  I push, “I'll figure something better out when I win.”

  “And if you lose?”

  “Won't happen.”

  Alexxa lowers her eyes to a glare. “And when you lose you can't have sex with anyone for a week.”

  No fucking way.

  I drop my jaw and snap, “Are you fucking crazy? A week!”

  “The fact you think a week is even that bad is reason enough alone not to ever actually go out with you.” When my eyebrows furrow in confusion, she shakes her head. “I'll take this bet as long as you're honest about not boning anyone.”

  “Swear.” I extend my hand. “You know I don't waste time with bullshit lies.”

  Trying to fuck her is not a lie and I'm not lying in the process. So you can just tuck your judgmental look back in your pocket.

  “Yeah...I'll make sure Warren is my extra pair of eyes.”

  She doesn't need them considering the amount of time we spend together. Chances are if I'm not fucking, I'm hanging out with her, both of them, or playing one of the many sports I love with some dudes from the gym. Sometimes Alexxa comes to watch me play. Those games I uh....typically try a little harder. Can't let my best friend see me lose. No. It's not more than that. Shut up. This is about sex. Nothing else.

  She slowly reaches her hand out for me to shake.

  “You've got yourself a deal babe.”

  “Don't call me that.”

  The bet is made only moments before the players are announcing it's time for the kids to put on their skates and take the ice. Swiftly the two of us are on our feet immediately beginning to assist the excited students. In a long grueling process filled with complaints and mindless rambles, we help everyone get on skates, lace them, and eventually clop onto the ice where the players are waiting.

  “What about your teachers?” The dark haired player calls to us. “Either of them good on the ice?” Without waiting for an answer he calls to Alexxa who's on the opposite end of the kids from me. “What about you, gorgeous? You any good on the ice?”

  Alexxa smiles at the flattery.

  Who the fuck does he think he is? That's no fucking way to talk to her. She's not a goddamn groupie. Even if she is fucking hot, we're here with a bunch of goddamn kids! Show some fucking respect. Try to get your dick touched on the sly not in front of the entire crowd.

  She innocently shrugs. “I'm okay, I guess.”

  “Why don't you come up here and I'll show you how to get it in the goal,” he says in such a way I can't stop myself from glaring.

  You heard that sexual implication too. Don't deny it.

  Alexxa starts to resist but the kids encourage her until she skates over to him. The sight of her body gracefully moving causes my dick to stir in my jeans. Nonchalantly, I adjust myself, eyes staying planted on her every move.

  Her ass looks too good in those jeans. They make me wanna fucking sing that Ginuwine song.

  “Alright Graham,” she huskily states. “I'm here. Show me how you want me.”

  Is she fucking flirting? Right fucking now? What the hell does that asshole have that I don't? He's not fucking hotter. If anything his combination of features makes him look like a discount version of me. Plus, he probably gets his dick touched just as much as I do. Hell, probably more. He's a goddamn professional hockey player. They fuck chicks in every city they're in, despite if they're single or married. Is that a newsflash for you? Athletes cheating? Shouldn't be.

  Graham positions himself with both his arms around her. A low growling sound lingers in my throat until there's a tugging at my jeans. I look down at Clare who seems to be terrified by the noise. I give her a wink, which
makes her smile and turn back around to where her other teacher is getting felt up by some second generation Wayne Gretzky's wannabe.

  Another giggle, I've never heard before escapes, as he grinds his body into hers and helps her sink one in the goal. The kids cheer and she tosses her arms around him at the victory.

  You bet your ass that's the only goal he'll be sinking with her.

  I fold my arms across my chest. “Alright, Greg-”

  “Graham.”

  “How about you let the kids have a go at it now? Is that what you kids want?”

  “Yeah!” They shriek in unison.

  “Then let's get you guys going!” Graham cheerfully says calling them over.

  In a wobbly mess the kids rush over and we help split them into two groups allowing each player to help half. Alexxa sticks around the dickhead, where she spends time alternating flirtatious looks and assisting the children. While aiding my set of students, I keep a harsh eye on the two of them as they continue to exchange more touches than necessary.

  Conway, our player who I've mainly ignored, asks, “Girlfriend?”

  Taken off guard, I turn around, catch Tami who's slipping backwards, and question, “What?”

  Conway repeats himself, “She your girlfriend?”

  I don't give her direction another look even though her beautiful laughter is exploding again.

  Those are my laughs. I'm the one who makes her laugh like that. My dirty jokes. My bullshit pranks. My choice of B class raunchy comedies. Not him. He needs to be blocked.

  Stifling the need to glare and growl again, I answer, “Nope. Just best friend and co-workers.”

  He nods. “Good.”

  “What?”

  “Good.” His head tilts to the side. “Nine o'clock. Skate girl. Eyes on you.”

  My own dart that direction. The petite blonde immediately bites her bottom lip.

  I wouldn't kick her out of bed.

  Pleased her attention is on me rather than two professional athletes, I smirk slowly to let her know she's been seen. I briefly watch excitement cross her face, but am quickly drawn away to the sound of Alexxa's giggle.

  No way in hell is he that fucking funny.

  “Oh, stop,” Alexxa insists, playfully touching Graham's arm for the hundredth time.

  An unfamiliar feeling pangs my chest again. I skate her direction muttering under my breath, “Yeah that shit's gotta stop.”

  “It's off season, so I've definitely got the time,” I overhear him say.

  “Time for what?”

  The two of them give me a look, startled at the intrusion.

  “Um, nothing major.” Alexxa shrugs it off. “Graham was just asking me out.”

  “Not classy in front of a bunch of kids,” my snip is met with a scoff from Alexxa.

  “This from the guy who's hooked up with how many lifeguards from our pool visits?”

  Every time she says shit like that she causes the little nagging voice most call a conscience, to start to bother the fuck out of me. I've mastered the art of not giving a fuck about most people's opinions, but lately her judgments hurt. Okay maybe not hurt hurt, but they don't feel good. It's like having a sharp cramp in the middle of a workout. Inconvenient and irritating.

  Graham chuckles and I snap, “Are we racing or what?”

  “Racing?” He asks.

  “Yeah, Michelle Kwan over there thinks she can beat me in a race across the rink.”

  “I can.”

  “We'll see, won't we?” After lifting my eyebrows in a challenging manner, I turn to our group. “You guys wanna see me and Miss Alexxa race?”

  They toss their hands in the air. “Yeah!”

  “You ready Miss Alexxa or do you need another minute to finish playing touch and tickle with this year’s winner of the Stuart's Cup?”

  Graham grunts, “It's the Stanley Cup.”

  “It is for actual hockey players, not B team replacements.”

  He lunges forward. “What the hell did you just say to me?”

  “Whoa.” Alexxa places a firm hand to his chest to catch him. “Let's just get the kids off to the sides and get this over with. I'm sure once Luca loses he'll pout, which means his mouth will be shut.”

  “I'm not gonna lose,” I assure and begin to usher the students out of the way.

  “What's he win if beats you?” Graham questions.

  “A date,” she sighs in aggravation.

  “If he loses, I'll take his place on it.”

  “To hell you will,” I snap over my shoulder.

  “Tone. Language,” Alexxa scolds me.

  “Sorry, Mom.”

  “And I like that idea,” she says to him. “Even if he wins, you can still have a date.”

  A grumble of curses comes from me as Conway joins the conversation. “I'll wait at the other end in case it's too close to call it.”

  With a smirk I assure, “It won't be.”

  “Mr. Luca,” Carla's meek voice says up to me. When I look down she softly states, “Don't fall.”

  I give her a playful poke on the forehead. “I got this.”

  Casually skating to the opposite side of the rink from Conway, I stretch my neck from side to side, determined to keep my body loose.

  It's been a few years since I've skated too. But how hard could it fucking be? Better yet how hard is it to do it better than Alexxa, who fumbles over her feet more than the six year olds in our class.

  Once both of our backs are against the rink, she turns to me and whispers, “Hope you're ready to be celibate for a week.”

  “Think I'll take you to one of those fancy steakhouses where you have to wear a tight dress and heels.” With my eyes now locked on hers I drop some fuel on the fire. “I think I'll even take you to a nightclub afterwards. Give you a reason to grind that sexy body against mine.”

  “Only thing I hate more than the thought of dancing to shitty music underneath strobes light is doing it with you.”

  Fuck. I'm going to make her regret those words. In fact, when I get her in my bed, which will happen, I'm going to make her say how much she loves doing everything with me. We're talking video games to camp field trips to sucking my goddamn cock. Yup. She's gonna fucking say it.

  Conway lifts his glove covered hands in the air. “On my mark.”

  The two of us take our position.

  His hands stay frozen for a moment allowing us both a minute to truly become focused. Like any time I'm preparing for something physical, whether it be a good work out or a less than casual game of soccer, I let my mind become blank. All the bullshit thoughts and worries from the days behind and days ahead disappear alongside any preconceived notions. I'll never be fucking more than just the type of person people only like for a moment. For a season. The type of person people only really tolerate because I've got skills they can appreciate. I relinquish any self-destructive thoughts that exist and devote myself to sync to the sport.

  Sports, after all, are my freedom.

  Conway drops his hands and I glide forward with a fierce force. My body rushes towards the goal at the other end, heart thrumming in my ears. While I keep my eyes planted forward on the target, I can't help but catch a glimpse of Alexxa who's actually right beside me.

  Fucking seriously? Can't play monkey in the middle on the balance beam with seven year olds but skates like she's fucking Elsa with the ice as her bitch? How the fuck does that make any sense?

  I pump my body hard to try to get ahead, pushing every muscle I can to be the first to the opposite end. The kid’s cheers and chants for the both of us grow louder as we get closer. Giving the last of my energy to propel myself forward, I try not to smirk at the small distance I've gained on her. All of sudden, Alexxa flashes past me, winning with a noticeable amount of distance.

  What the fuck just happened?!

  She glides to a stop, ice kicking up, and tosses her hands up in the air just as I arrive. With a pleased smile she states, “And that's how it's done.”

&
nbsp; I take a moment to catch my breath before grunting, “Just a couple days in the summer, huh?”

  “Maybe I forgot to mention I worked at the rink when I was in high school.”