The Gamble: A Novel

by Xavier Neal

  “Oh no.” I wag a finger at him. “No. No. No. We're not talking about that.”

  Luca slides my plate to the other end of the table away from me. “Then you're not eating.”

  I stretch my body to grab it back but he continues to move it further away. The playful battle continues with me scooting back and forth in the booth and him keeping it out of my reach. Eventually, I pout. “Give me my lunch back.”

  “Give me my answer.”

  “Bully.”

  “Effective.”

  I fold my arms firmly across my chest. “Fine. I was 15 and Josh kissed me in the hallway at the end of the day after sending me an ‘I like you text’. There. Ya happy?”

  He hands me back my plate. “I wouldn't say happy. 15? Do you have any idea what I was doing at 15?”

  “College grads?”

  Luca grabs his soda and shoots me a wink as confirmation.

  A disgusted grunt comes from me, which only makes Luca's gorgeous grin grow wider.

  He never ceases to amaze and disgust me within what feels like the same breath. Most people only see this side of him. They're immediately given the charm and don't bother wondering what's underneath it. Knowing there's another level to him he doesn't flaunt makes me feel special. In all reality, he is Marcus. The popular kid. The one everyone wants to get a piece of yet he's never treated me like Andy. From the moment we started working together he saw something in me he trusted. Even if I hate to admit it at times, so did I. Whether we're out at a bar against my will, or a house party I'd rather burn down than actually attend, I know there's always a spot for me at his table. And I know I never have to ask.

  Luca

  “What do you mean you're not home? Where are you?”

  “I'm allowed to have a life, mijo,” Ma sighs from the other end of the phone.

  She is. But it's not a weekend. She's typically a home body during the week. This is...odd...

  I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah.”

  “Did you need something?”

  “I was...I was just gonna swing by and check on you. Make sure you're alright.”

  “I am not fragile, Luca. One minor concern at the doctor doesn't mean I need to stop living my life.”

  Minor concern? Any not immediate clean bill of health is a major concern in my playbook. If my head coach is about to be out, I need to know why. I need to be prepared to assist, to trade places and become the head coach to keep this small family running strong.

  “Ma-”

  “They're running more tests. I'm sure everything is fine, mijo. Stop worrying.” As if she can see my face she fusses, “I mean it. ¿Entiendes?”

  A large sigh falls out of me. “Si.”

  “Now, I have to go finish getting ready for my da-, um...evening out.”

  Was she about to say date? Who the fuck is she dating? On one hand that's fucking amazing since I haven't seen her look at another male since she divorced my father decades ago and on the other, who the fuck is he and why haven't I met him?

  I try to hold my voice steady. “Be safe.”

  “I will. And you....call your father back.”

  Helplessly my face scrunches.

  How the hell does she know he's been calling more often lately? Guess that's not really saying much considering how little he's called in the past. I don't know what mid-life crisis has sparked an urge to want to reconnect with his only son, but can't he just fuck a college student or buy a Bentley instead? I would appreciate it.

  “Luca Larson-”

  “I'll think about it, Ma. Go enjoy your night out. I'm gonna grab a quick work out.”

  After a long pause she gives up on the previous subject. “Te aAmo.”

  “Te aAmo.”

  **

  “Have a good workout?” Joss, one of the trainers at Push It To The Maxx, the gym I work out at, asks on my way towards the front door.

  “Yeah. Last set pushed me just far enough,” I reply.

  He braces his arms across his chest. “You training for something?”

  Confused by the question I lift my eyebrows.

  “You've been in every day for the last week, sometimes twice in one day, which is a little more than usual for you unless some of the games happen to fall on the same rotation. But they didn't this week, so just wondering if you're training for something. Marathon? Triathlon? Iron man?”

  Guess if I say training my dick to become less dependent on pussy wouldn't be the right answer. Being the only one to touch my dick for the past week is like being locked in a room with only one specific recorded game to watch. One recorded game you don't necessarily love but damn sure don't hate. At first you don't mind. It's not so bad. Then the day passes and it becomes harder and harder to enjoy. You start yelling at the players in boredom. Hoping something exciting happens even though you know it won't because it's going to end the same way every time. It's the same plays over and over again. Eventually you boycott it. Refuse to watch. Decide to nap or count your teeth instead. However, at some point, the senses win, and you force yourself to watch once more. That's pretty much what masturbating is like.

  “No. Just uh...trying to deal with some personal shit. Working out clears my head.”

  “Yeah. I know that feeling.”

  I give him a head toss and finish making my way to the exit. As I stroll towards my car, I pull out my phone and send Alexxa a text.

  Time to check on the only other woman in life that fucking matters.

  Me: Your place or mine?

  “Excuse me,” a faint voice says from over my shoulder.

  I turn around to see an attractive short blonde in a pink sports bra and yoga pants.

  No shirt already? Talk about making shit easy for me.

  “Yeah?”

  “You're the guy from the skating rink last week,” her tiny voice croaks. “Right? You did a race across it with your co-worker or girlfriend or something.”

  “Co-worker,” I quickly inform. “Friend.”

  “Yeah.” She pushes her hair behind her ear. “Right. Her.”

  My phone vibrates in my hand.

  Alexxa: Mine. But I'm having dinner with M & G. Give me two hours.

  Looks like I have time to spare.

  I lift my eyes back to the fidgety blonde and grow a devilish grin. “I'm Luca.”

  “Jillian.”

  “Got a body that's toned like Ms. Micheals.” The compliment makes her blush. “You just finished yoga with Haan or Mary Ann?”

  “Haan.”

  He's known for getting women into the harder positions. Chicks who take his yoga class are always more flexible.

  “He's tough. How about you come over to my place for a drink? Help you relax after such a hard work out.”

  She stutters in surprise, “R-r-right now?”

  “Yeah.” I open my car door. “Got a couple hours to kill. Besides,” my voices dips in unison with my eyes. “I bet I can name more yoga positions than you.”

  Jillian briefly bites her bottom lip. “Betcha can't.”

  “Come on over then, and if I can't I'll owe you a foot rub.”

  “And what happens if you can?”

  I know exactly what she's gonna rub.

  My smirk returns. “I'll think of something. Follow me.”

  With a nod, she scampers off the way she came, as I slide into my car.

  What can I say? Now that my momentary vow of virginity is over, my cock is about to learn to love downward dog more than it already does. Hey, I earned this one. That bet is finished and a new one with a ditsy blonde is in motion. Trust me. I won't lose this one.

  **

  After letting myself into Alexxa's apartment with my spare key, I stroll past the large kitchen on the right, immediately noticing the neatly stacked and labeled boxes with Grant's name on them.

  I know Alexxa's gonna be bummed moving out, but look at this place. It's like Warren's room except it expands across the entire apartment. Funny thing is, Marie and Alexxa
aren't really the reason. It's her boyfriend, Grant. He makes Monica from Friends almost look sane. Call me crazy but no dude should be that hell fucking bent on making sure dishes are organized from daily use, to weekend use, to special occasion use. Yeah. And that's just the tip of the fucking iceberg. Once, I didn't use a coaster and he lectured me for forty-five minutes about wood stains. I'd say there was a chance he was swinging for the other team if it wouldn't get me nut checked by Marie who already hates me.

  Past the open living room, I veer to the right where Alexxa's bedroom is. I give the cracked open door a light push to see her in the middle of her bed with her computer in her lap.

  Sleep shorts, tank top, and hair in a messy bun. No makeup. No high dollar dress. No thousand dollar product in her hair. I really fucking love this look. At least on her. She glows without the help of a spray tan. She's just naturally beautiful. Wait. What the fuck did I just say? Am I still post orgasm high? Nah....wasn't that good.

  “Internet porn?”

  She glances up at me and sighs, “I wish.”

  “That's an easy wish you don't even need a genie for.”

  Alexxa giggles and scoots over so I can slide onto her bed. “If only apartment hunting was that easy.”

  This room is basically my off season hideaway. Our apartment sees so many visitors that sometimes I need the relief of knowing there's not a chance someone is going to randomly be banging on my door at 1 A.M. to suck my cock. When Alexxa's at our place, she spends most of it in the living room or kitchen, the areas Warren and I share, similar to the way we share her, but when I come over here, we mainly hang out in her room. Not only because Marie would rather see my body with a chalk outline around it than on the living room couch, but because in here it's a judgment free zone. I burp, fart, get crumbs on her less than expensive comforter and it's no big deal. She can also curl into my arms, snore so hard she wakes herself up, and drool without worrying about anyone giving a fuck. I sure don't. She sees me in a raw form here and I see her. Come to think of it, Alexxa sees more of me than anyone else in my fucking life.

  “No luck?”

  Her face contorts to a pout as she whines, “It's just not fun.”

  Stretching my arms across the soft pillows, I encourage, “I can make it fun.”

  “Debating which rooms would be best for sex is not fun, Luca.”

  “You know me too well.” When Alexxa offers me a soft smile, I say, “But there are other ways to make it not suck so hard. Come on. Let me help.”

  “Fine,” she grumbles and tabs back over. “I really need a place closer to work, so the commute doesn't suck every morning and night, which isn't so terrible except it's farther from you and Warren.”

  An uncomfortable feeling spreads through my chest the moment those words are out of her mouth.

  I don't want Alexxa farther from me. It's bad enough I won't see her every day, but now she's not even going to be a quick car ride around the corner. Fuck. This new job bullshit is like a passive burglary in progress and the only thing I can do is let it happen because it's what she wants. Because it's her dream. As much as I love being a selfish bastard, she deserves this. She supports my goals. Always has. The least I can do is return the favor. It's not like she's ever asked much out of me. This is what real teammates who happen to be actual friends do for one another in a trade. They support them even if it means a sucky season ahead for themselves.

  “You'll still come and visit, right?” Her brown eyes plead up at me. “You're not gonna abandon me because I move like twenty minutes away, are you?”

  “I don't know,” I playfully start. “I can be distracted by a lot of shit in twenty minutes. Do you know how many times I've been headed to do one thing, seen a pair of amazing tits and suddenly decided to do another?”

  Alexxa tosses her hands in the air. “Fuck this. I'm not moving.” She fumbles around to shut her computer. “If my best friends aren't even going to come visit then-”

  “Whoa there, Sensitive Sally.” My hand catches hers. “I was fucking kidding. Anywhere you go, twenty miles or twenty hours, you bet your ass I'm gonna use the key you're going to give me to let myself in to your new place. Oh. And you better have bottled water. You know I hate tap shit.”

  Her panicked expression melts into laughter. The shift in her shifts something in me. Something so foreign and so unfamiliar I'm not exactly sure what I'm supposed to do about it.

  Is this shit going to happen more often? Am I going to feed off of her happiness like this? Am I going to bust my ass to make sure she keeps smiling, so I never have to see that flicker of sadness I just did? Fuck me. This shit better just be momentary.

  She opens her computer back up. “I've narrowed it down to these five.”

  “Not that one,” I immediately deny. “It says right there no pets.”

  “I don't have any pets.”

  “Not yet. What happens when you finally wanna get that dog you've been talking about since forever? It'll be like 'Oh now I want Dandy but she has nowhere to stay. Luca can you keep her for me?'.”

  Alexxa's face tilts as she shakes her head. “I don't sound anything like that.”

  “You sound exactly like that. That was a dead ringer for whiny Alexxa.”

  “I don't whine.”

  “You were just whining literally two minutes ago!”

  She opens her mouth to argue yet quickly shuts it. “Why would I name my dog Dandy? What kind of name is that?”

  “It's named after your favorite flower. You're a chick. What else would you name it after?”

  Again her mouth drops to fight but closes instead.

  Casually I ask, “Why do you want a dog so bad anyway?”

  There's a small flicker in her eyes. “You know being the youngest of five has drawbacks. For instance, they all really got to play with the dog my parents got when my oldest sister was born, but by the time I turned three she was more of a snuggler than anything else. Trixie-”

  “What kinda name is Trixie? Was it a stripper dog?”

  “Shut up,” she demands before she continues, “She loved to cuddle with me. She slept beside my bed at night. Even though she was old, she was still super protective of me whether it be from squirrels or passing neighbors when we were lying in the grass in the front yard. I cried when she went to live on the farm-”

  “You do know there was no actual farm.”

  “Do you wanna hear the rest of the story or not?”

  I shut my mouth.

  There is no farm though. Parents....lie better to your young children or hey, try the truth. Good way to learn a lesson about death is to start with a pet.

  “Anyway, I cried and later begged for another dog. I wanted a protector, a snuggler, and a friend I could rely on. But....kids are expensive and adding pets only makes them more expensive, so we never got another dog. I would've gotten one when I moved out of the dorm in college, but my first roommate was allergic to anything with fur, my next had an irrational fear of them, and Marie doesn't like the idea of pet hair anywhere.”

  “You need a dog.”

  She tries to smile. “I need an apartment.”

  Nope. She needs a dog. Train it to hate all other guys besides me and Warren. Huh. Maybe just me. It can growl at Warren as warning to give Alexxa space. Ha. What? I was joking. I don't...She can date whoever after I sleep with her...What do you mean I don't sound so sure any more?

  With a touch of the screen the window closes. “What about this one?”

  I scan the basics looking for immediate red flags. Everything seems to pass the first test until I spot the little detail. “Parking.”

  “Parking?”

  “Says everyone has a designated parking space. Guests can park in uncovered spaces.”

  “Why is this a problem?”

  I hold up a finger, touch her screen, and expose the issue in one of their photos. “See here. See how few uncovered spots there are? You don't want that kind of bullshit. Plus what if your parking sp
ot is here.” My finger points to a space. “And then you live way the fuck over here. You hate to carry groceries already. Imagine how much more you would hate it if you had to walk that distance.”

  “Fuck. That.” She clicks the web page closed. “This one?”

  I scan the amenities spotting no problems. After I nod, she starts to show me some of the floor plans and that's where I find the issue. “Unless you want to go to a common area to do your laundry you're going to need to rule this one out. Look here. None of the plans come with a washer and dryer. And the ones that come with hook ups are an extra two hundred dollars more. Pass.”