The Gamble: A Novel

by Xavier Neal

  I mumble as I buckle my seat belt, “Just fucking drive.”

  To no surprise Luca laughs victoriously and starts the car.

  Don't...say...anything...

  After a few minutes with the radio being the only noise in the car, I bite, “Why the hell do you know that? I've never shown you my bras. Have you been going through my laundry? Do you riffle through my underwear drawers when I'm in the shower?”

  “Why would I do that when your clothes rarely make it there?”

  I'm not that messy.

  “Luca.”

  “Of course I don't go through your shit, Alexxa. Don't you trust me?”

  I side step answering and redirect my question while he weaves between cars. “How do you know about my bras?”

  “Your tits speak for themselves.”

  Classy.

  “Something you wouldn't say on a normal date. Can I put a flag on the play?”

  “No, because you broke normal date protocol when you tried to karate chop my hand off for opening the door.”

  “I can open my own goddamn door!”

  “So you've mentioned.” Another huff escapes me and he says, “Look, you may be my best friend, but I've spent numerous hours over the course of this friendship stealing glances of your tits. On average where and how they sit varies between where you are and what we're doing.”

  Probably not what his math teacher had in mind when they were going over angles in pre-algebra.

  Understanding the unusual logic, I bob my head back and forth. “What about my date bra?”

  “You're not the lingerie type, but every chick has a sexy bra she puts on that builds a little extra confidence. Makes you feel or appear more daring.” His head rolls over to me at the stoplight. “The bra you only wanna show off to those lucky enough.”

  True. Even if no one ever gets to see it because things never escalate to that level, I haven't given up hope it one day might. And I wanna clarify to him I'm not not the lingerie type. I've just haven't had a reason to buy it. Yet.

  “I'm always the one lucky enough to see it.” He gives me a wink. “With the exception of you of course.”

  I fold my arms across my chest. “Glad to be the exception.”

  “Alexxa, you're always the exception.”

  Unsure of exactly what he's hinting at, but aware it has a double meaning, I simply turn the radio up.

  One minute I wanna throw up penalties for being a douche and the next I actually wanna give him points for being unintentionally sweet. Ugh. This is gonna be a long fucking night.

  About an hour later, we're sitting in our seats, screaming along with the people who packed into the center to watch their favorite hockey players for the sake of charity. Apparently both teams are a collaboration of various players who volunteered from the NHL and the AHL to essentially play for free. During the first thirty minutes, Luca attempted to drill into me details I didn't care to learn. Eventually, he gave up and broke down to the bare basics. Goals. Pucks. Legal fighting.

  Does anything else really matter in hockey?

  The waiting dancer to the right of us lets her eyes wander to Luca for the fourth time. The women linger around the arena to perform poorly choreographed minor dance moves to hype up the crowd and in between those moments they're supposed to act like cheerleaders. Build the crowds enthusiasm.

  This one though. She's got a one track mind and it's headed for Luca Sex Town.

  I shift in my seat to face him. “Are you gonna acknowledge her or what?”

  Luca drags his eyes away from the rink. “Who?”

  “Kelly Kapowski over there at three o'clock.”

  He glances around me and then cocks a smile. “Did you just Saved By The Bell me?”

  “Blame Marie. She was making weird 90's references earlier.” His laugh makes me join in with him as I pull my hair to the side of my face. “Okay, but seriously. Chick cannot stop eye fucking you.”

  To my surprise, he shrugs and folds his hands together. “She can eye fuck me all she wants. I'm on a date with Lisa Turtle.”

  I giggle, “I knew. I knew you grew up watching that show.”

  “Who didn't?” The two of us laugh again before he clears his throat. “But if you tell anyone-”

  “I'm gonna tell everyone. Starting with Warren.”

  “Fuck. Don't tell him.” We chuckle again and he continues, “Seriously though? On an actual date I tend not to notice those things.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “You said it yourself. I don't date. Meaning if you've somehow managed to get me on one, you've obviously done something to grab and keep my attention. Just because some mildly attractive cheerleader wannabe makes come fuck me eyes doesn't change that.”

  My head tilts. “But this isn't a real date.”

  “Says the chick wearing her date bra.”

  His words cause me to bite my bottom lip.

  Another point on the board for Larson.

  “Alexxa, I meant it when I asked you out. This is probably the only date you're ever going to give me. Why fucking blow on it something that couldn't compare to you on your baggy shirt and sweat pants day?”

  The compliment causes me to gently bump my leg with his.

  That was probably a line too, but damn it felt good to hear. He's not gonna strike out is he? Why can't I stop using sports references?!

  I toy with the ends of my hair as the players take the ice again. “Why don't you date?”

  Casually he replies, “What's the fucking point? Most chicks wanna hop into the sack just as much as I do. Why jump through hoops to get to the good shit if you don't have to?”

  Any sweet feelings he previously planted wither and die. “So, everything is just about getting laid?”

  “What else would it be about?”

  My head snaps to him. “Spending time with someone because you like them? Having someone to go to the movies with or dinner? Fall asleep next to? Having someone to vent to about how shitty work was or have someone to celebrate with when you get good news?”

  His eyes fall onto mine. “What the fuck do I need someone else for all that shit when I have you?”

  A small swoon slithers out of me. Immediately I turn my face back to the hockey game, desperate to try to focus.

  This is all Luca just being Luca. Saying what a woman wants to hear in such a way she can't help but fall for it. He doesn't mean it. He can't mean it. And if he does mean it then he's really fucking stupid to not see that would mean he's possibly in love with me, which is something not allowed in the friend's zone.

  He playfully questions, “How bad is my score on this date by the way? If you can try to pick one sport to compare it too. You know how it drives me fucking crazy when you mix up football and baseball.”

  “I kinda like driving you crazy.”

  Luca gives me a small smirk in return. “I kinda like when you drive me crazy...”

  The unexpected romantic moment is short lived by us tossing our hands in the air at the goal just scored by the team we decided we were routing for.

  He picked. I simply just needed to know what colors to follow around the rink.

  Once things settle back down, I add, “You're not striking out. Hell, if it wasn't you, you'd probably make it to next round i.e. date number two.”

  “I'm trying not to be offended.” He bumps my leg on another chuckle. “Speaking of second dates, you never told me why Bieber with a hockey stick didn't get another one.”

  Helplessly I snicker, “He didn't look anything like Bieber!”

  “Weird haircut bullshit.” Luca points towards his own head while keeping his eyes on the game. “What was his name again? Glendall?”

  “Graham.”

  “Uh-huh. Him. By the way, he's sucking on the ice right now.”

  “Is that why we're going for the other team?”

  “That was...only...part of the reason I chose our team.” He gives me a brief glance and a wink. “Now, how'd he fuck
up?”

  I shrug. “He was expecting to get me into bed with minimal to no effort on the first date. Wasn't gonna happen. When he caught onto to it, he started to pull back, and I knew he wouldn't call. Not that I really wanted him to.”

  Is that weird? Is it weird I wasn't trying to be just another groupie? Sorry if it's not on my damn bucket list.

  “What's wrong with sleeping with someone on the first night?”

  “Nothing,” I sigh. “But that's not me or my style.”

  Luca's head turns to me in curiosity. “What is your date number? Three? Four?”

  “Months?”

  “Days.”

  The undocumented information he seeks pushes me to break our eye contact. “I don't know. Whatever feels right.”

  Little help there would've been nice! Wow. Should I just add that into my date introductions? Hey, my name's Alexxa and I'm a virgin. Nice shoes, do they sell men's shoes there too? Huh. Maybe I'm not sending off second date vibes. Let's come back to that later.

  Without giving him a moment to implore it further, I ask, “Will you get me a beer between periods at intermission or is that against your dating policy? Limit the number of drinks you pay for in public so she has to go back to your place?”

  He smiles briefly. “That does work.”

  Honestly, I don't know what's sadder. The fact it works or the fact I know he does it.

  “You can have whatever you want,” Luca comments and looks at me again. “And you don't have to wait 'til intermission. Do you want me to grab you one now?”

  I nod. “Please.”

  “Want anything else? Nachos? Hot dogs?”

  “How bad are you gonna judge me when I say yes to both?”

  He chortles and stands up. “Not as bad as my wallet.”

  Luca slides past me and heads for the ramp to take him down to the concession stands. While I know I should turn back to watch the game, I let my eyes continue to follow him, curious if he'll do what I think he will. He passes by the dancer who has been using her mental telepathy to beckon his attention without so much as a single glance.

  What the hell is wrong with him? He's taking this whole pretend date too far. There's a perfectly good piece of pussy willing, waiting, and dangling for him and he's not even acknowledging it! Is he high? How high does he have to be to ignore a sure thing? A sure thing definitely in comparison to me. I'm not interested in him. And I'm not falling for his subtle attempts to treat me better than he does when we're just broin' out. I'll admit. They're not completely lost upon me. Under different circumstances, I would probably fall for all this bullshit. Hell, if I didn't believe this was all some clever rouse to try to get me into bed, I'd be falling for it now. Down side of dating your best friend? Typically you see through their facades.

  Our team scores another goal and I toss my hands up in the air with the rest of the crowd. Immediately after, I turn to check for Luca's return. With arms full, he makes his way towards me, passing by the dancer once more, this time as she's preparing to leave. She touches his arm to stop him, gives her hair a flirty ruffle, and smiles something sexy. Rather than feed into whatever she's saying, he pulls his arm out of her grip, and resumes his way to me.

  You saw that too right? He has to be fucking wasted already to be so stupid!

  When he finally slides into the seat beside me I snap, “Did you really blow her off? Did you not see the look she gave you? I would've let her drop to her knees with that.”

  Luca offers me one of the beers. “As much as I fucking love to hear you talk about girl on girl action-”

  “Don't say it like it happens all the time-”

  “-I already fucking told you. Not interested.” He hands me the nachos next. “I came here with you. I plan to be here with you.”

  “But Luca-”

  “Drop it,” he demands bringing his beer to his lips for a sip.

  On an annoyed grunt, I take a bite of one of the chips dripping with cheese.

  Why am I pushing so hard for him to notice her? Is it because I know if he does it'll take the focus off of me? Because if he does it'll prove my point about all of this being just about sex? Luca's already admitted he only has one goal at the end of everything. Fucking. Getting a woman into bed, getting off and getting her the hell out. All the other bullshit he has me for. Me. The one female he hasn't managed to get into the sack yet. What happens if he does? What happens to all those things we share? Does he replace me? Wait. No. None of those answers matter because I'm never sleeping with Luca. All of this is a one-time deal. Don't let me forget that. The beer and the sweet comments might end up getting the better of me at this rate.

  Suddenly he reaches for a nacho, which breaks me out of my own head. “Not good? I can always whip us up a batch at the apartment with those spicy beans you like so much.”

  I struggle to steady my voice. “They're fine.”

  “What's wrong?” Luca wipes his hands and rests his hot dog on the empty seat beside him. “What did I say now?”

  “Nothing.” Having another sip of my beer, I shake my head and repeat, “Nothing.”

  He grabs the nachos out of my lap and places them next to the hot dog. “You're a shitty liar.”

  “I....Shut up.”

  As he adjusts his beer, he pushes, “Just tell me what I did wrong. Again. What's this flag for?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Alexxa...”

  “Nothing.”

  “Alexxa.”

  Snapping my head at him and away from where the players are clearing the ice for the intermission show, I sigh, “You're doing nothing wrong. You're saying all the right things. You're doing all the right things. You're being on your best behavior.”

  Confusion coats his eyes. “Then why are you pissed at me?”

  “For being this way!”

  “Before I was confused. Now I'm confused as fuck.”

  “I just don't get it!” I toss a hand in the air. “You're not acting like my Luca. My selfish bastard, walking hard on, fuck what anyone else wants Luca. You're....being like....a human being and it's frustrating me.”

  The perplexity remains. “You're pissed off that instead of acting like a dick, I'm being nice.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I repeat. Confused as fuck.”

  “Luca-”

  “Look Alexxa, you already know all the bullshit about me. The shit I don't let other women see. To show you that side of me would be fucking pointless. But what you don't realize is there's a side of me you don't get to see because you're always on my team. The side of me that opens doors. That buys snacks. That tries to make the woman in his company feel special for those few hours we're together. Instead of being pissed off about it, why not embrace that you're the only person in the entire fucking world to have ever seen all sides of Luca Larson?”

  His declaration tugs at my heart.

  That can't possibly be true. I can't be the only person in the world who has ever seen both sides of this coin. And if I am, what is he trying to say? And why is he trying to say it?

  The dancers start performing their show to a mix the latest hip hop songs from the radio, but our eyes stay lost in each other's’.

  Swallowing the swelling lump of unwanted emotions, I softly challenge, “All sides of you, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then tell me something you wouldn't tell anyone else.”

  “If I do that, you have to let me kiss you before the night is over.”

  Those stakes feel too high.

  Luca wets his lips and suddenly desire replaces the apprehension.

  Quietly I agree, “Deal.”

  Luca puts his beer in the cup holder and leans his arms onto his legs. “When I was a kid, my father never came to see me play. Didn't matter the sport. Didn't matter the time of year. He never set foot at one of my games. He never came to any of my award ceremonies. He never once showed up to support me in something that fucking mattered. Sure, he paid for all of it. Wil
lingly. Donated money to help sponsor team trips or what the fuck ever we needed the cash for, but there was never a moment he actually showed his face. And it was the only thing I fucking wanted. It's not like I have a shit ton of family. It's not like the stands were filled with relatives cheering me on. Nope. Just my ma' and the ghost of the man who taught me the lesson, no sacrifice is too big to make for whatever it is you really want.”