The Gamble: A Novel (15 page)

She pushes her lips together, grabs her wallet, and car keys. “I've got plans with Warren tonight.”

I push down the unexpected rise of jealousy.

And he better keep his fucking hands off her.

“Doin' what?”

“He wants to go see some photographer's gallery display. Stuart something. Then we're gonna grab dinner. He's been so busy between work and school he really needs the break.  You can join us if you want.”

“And have to listen to Warren ramble about lightening for two hours? Hard pass.”

Alexxa tries to smile. “I stop listening after the first twenty minutes.”

It's my turn to attempt a smirk.

She saunters past me and softly declares, “Have a goodnight, Luca.”

How is that fucking possible now?

“You too....”

My eyes follow her until she's completely out of sight. The unfamiliar emotions I've been trying to smother out lately return with boots on, kicking in my chest cavity with everything they've got, and using my lungs as dart boards.

Apparently, I'm just supposed to accept this as the end of the game? Let it go and put my balls in a different court. Maybe I fucking should. Leave this fucking situation with a little bit of dignity left. Then again, I've never been a quitter, especially when I want something as bad as I want Alexxa Ward. Now that I think about it, I've never wanted anything as bad as I want her. No. This isn't game over. This is just one fucking flag on a play.

My vibrating phone pulls me out of my thoughts. On a heavy sigh, I answer, “Hola ma'.”

“Hola, mijo. You're off of work already?”

I give my forehead a rub. “Yeah. Kids went home earlier than expected.”

There's a long moment of silence before she questions, “Are you alright? You sound like something is wrong.”

Yeah. I'm losing the only game I've been good at from the minute I stepped into it.

“I'm good.”

She hums the all knowing hum only a mother can. “Cena?”

I give the forehead another rub hoping the pending headache bails. “Si. I'll head over now. Need me to bring anything? I know your doctor suggested a few changes in diet after this last set of tests came back a little less than ideal-”

“I'm fine, mijo,” her snap shuts my mouth. “I've got everything under control. Remember, I'm the mother and you're the son, por favor.”

She's the one who has an unwanted opponent lurking in her system. Thankfully, she's still cancer free but her cholesterol was a little higher than they would like. I'm not a health nut despite what my body looks like, but for her? I'll join her side of sacrifice if she needs me to. There are only two people in this world I'd do anything for her and the other just emotionally nut punched me.

“Te veo pronto?”

“Si,” I answer back and make my way to grab my stuff.

She ends the call revealing a waiting text message.

Pam: Late drink tonight? I miss hanging out with you.

Makes one of us. That game has been long over and even if it wasn't, at this point, the only person I wanna compete in the Orgasm Superbowl with is Alexxa. Like I said, things aren't over. Get ready for the half- time show. It's gonna be interesting...

Alexxa

This has to be the longest week of my entire life, including longer than the week my mother saw her first live musical and decided to randomly break out into song like she was in one. After listening to her and my sisters sing about fucking cereal and toast during a Sunday breakfast, I swore nothing in life would ever suck worse. Until this week that was true. My mother's Wicked obsession had been the champ for about a decade. However like all good things I guess it had come to an end eventually. I just assumed something more catastrophic than fooling around with Luca would be what knocked it down a peg. Not really sure when I became the adult who behaves as if they're the bratty child who only wants the toy mommy put on the highest shelf because she put it there, but that sums up my emotional threshold lately.
I
was the one who called everything off with him.
I
was the one who insisted we go back to 'normal'. Logic screams it was the right thing to do despite how shitty it feels. He's not the right kind of guy for me. His bed has seen more action than a banned copy of the old Deep Throat VHS. Luca fucks and forgets when he grows bored. Forgive me for not wanting to fall into that physiological shit storm.  I will admit, if the shit we did was any indication to what lied ahead, it would have been a beautiful, erotic, orgasm filled disaster. That may...or may not be regret in my voice.

Warren bumps against me. “You okay? You've been a little off this week.”

I look away from where I had been staring.

Guess Luca's no sex pact with himself is over. The way he's flirting with the chick with black hair over there leads me to believe his bed will be occupied in forty- five minutes or less. Ugh. What is his cock now, pizza?

“Alexxa.”

“What?” I unintentionally snap.

“What the hell is wrong with you lately? Is this a lady problem I need to know NOTHING about?”

Drawback of having dude best friends? You get a little crabby and they assume you're fucking hormonal and bleeding like a wounded animal. Heaven forbid you're just in a bad mood.

“No. And I don't do that. I've got an IUD in.”

“They make twat bombs?”

My scowl is met with a playful smirk. “You're fucking with me?”

“Have to get you to smile somehow.”

He has another sip of his beer out of the plastic cup while my eyes travel back to Luca and his pool side wench. “Hey, the chick Luca's talking to looks familiar.”

Warren glances that direction before informing me, “She lives in the apartments.”

I nod slowly.

Of course she does.

“She was the chick you watched him fuck last month.”

The words spark my jealousy and arousal in unison.

Ugh. It's not even healthy to feel those two things at the same fucking time. I'm not sure whether I wanna high five her understanding why she was screaming his name or bitch slap her for trying to work her way back into his bed. Is she already back there? Do you know?

“Are they fucking again?”

There's a thoughtful pause before Warren says, “Not that I'm aware of. Haven't heard heavy screaming from Luca's side of the apartment in a while.”

I stifle the urge to smile.

“Now that you bring it up, probably means he's just been kicking them out before I get home.”

Turning around to face him, I down the rest of the beer in my possession and demand, “Another.”

“Really? You've already had four and the burgers aren't even ready yet.”

“I'm not drunk enough for your snarky judgments to warrant a response.”

Warren shakes his head, puts his own beer down, and fills mine up from the keg.

Once it's full he hands it back and I remind him, “Besides, it's a holiday. I'm allowed to get wasted before two o'clock.”

Fourth of July. The perfect excuse to get drunk, eat like a pig, and blow shit up in honor of my forefathers. I'm sure their wives wouldn't have hesitated to attach a horny trollop to a cannon ball or whatever they were shooting into the sky to celebrate the anniversary of their independence. Did I just call myself Luca's
wife
? Fuck. Warren's right. I probably shouldn't keep drinking this fast.

A loud obnoxious laugh grabs my attention. The dark haired bitch giggles and drops into the pool.

If it wasn't for her inflatable wonder boobs she'd probably sink.

“Warren,” Dave, another guy who lives in their apartment complex, calls to him. “Beer pong?”

Warren shoots his question to me. “Wanna be my partner?”

Anything to get away from watching the Kardashian in the making over there from throwing herself at my could've, would've, there's no way I should've boyfriend. “Definitely.”

“Okay, but let's remember, the point isn't to get shit faced. It's to actually
win
,” he teases and drops an arm around my bare shoulder.

I pull my sunglasses over my face. “Sounds like I win either way.”

Warren lets out a light laugh and bumps me again.

After two rounds of beer pong against Dave and his girlfriend, followed by another couple who also lives somewhere in the complex, it's safe to say I'm right on the cusp of being wasted.

Wanna sing the song with me? Do you remember the song?! Hold on...Hold on...I remember the words...You know what? Never mind. I'm not sure I remember my fucking bra size right now.

“Suck it bitches!” I toss my hands in the air victoriously. “We fucking win!”

Warren double high fives me. “Yeah!”

“Did we just get hustled?” The tall taste of chocolate gripes from the opposite end of the table. “I feel like we just got fucking hustled.”

With a shimmy of my tits in my black tank top, I grunt, “Hustle this.”

“Is that an invitation baby?”

“Nope,” Warren swoops into the conversation and wraps an arm around my shoulder. “That was a drunken attempt to shit talk. I think my girl's wasted more than she realizes.”

The chocolate delight carefully questions, “Your girl?”

“We're friends,” he sighs and snatches up his beer.

“Always the friend never the fuck,” I sneer and wiggle out of his grip. “On that note, I'm gonna go get wet.”

Strolling away from the drinking area with Warren on my heels, I only make it a few feet before the change in music, abruptly stops me.

I spin around, balance completely off. “I fucking love this song!”

Warren tries to smile. “Drunk Alexxa is loud...”

“Shut the fuck up.” My playful swat intended for his chest is completely missed.

Huh. Thought he was closer than that. Eh. Whatever.

“Dance with me?” The lyrics to En Vogue's 'What A Man' begin to slide off of my lips as I rock my hips.

Unable to resist my charm, sways of seduction, or my tits bouncing around in my top, he drops a hand on my hip to pull me into his body. The two of us sing to each other in a round of snickers and intense drunk karaoke flare. Surrounded by the warmth of the bright sun, Warren grinds his hips against mine, bobbing along to the music, while I meet each thrust with an equally enthusiastic roll.

Damn. Is it just me or can he really fucking move? With a body like this against me who gives a fuck about Luca or the Playboy reject he's probably finger fucking by now?

All of a sudden, we're yanked apart, and Warren is being shoved against the brick pillar beside the keg. Luca's voice brutally shouts, “Que chingados! Bajate de mi novia! Retroceda al infiero antes de que te golpeyo!”

The look of confusion laced with horror on Warren's face is proceeded by his now beer free hands being tossed in the air. “What the fuck, Luca?!”

A wave of nausea washes over me.

Shit. I was supposed to eat something. That much beer on an empty stomach definitely wasn't one of my wiser ideas. Don't talk about how it was just one of many.

“I think I need to throw up.”

Luca snaps his head around to me, grip on his other best friend loosening. “Baby, you okay?”

My stomach clenches. Unsure if that's from the term of endearment or the bubbling beer inside of me, I lift a hand to my mouth. After choking back another wave of vomit wanting to escape, I rapidly nod my head and correct, “I
definitely
need to throw up.”

Warren's body twitches, but Luca shoves him back against the brick. “No fucking way. You've done enough.”

I open my mouth to attempt to argue.

“Come on, Alexxa.” Luca rushes to me and slides a protective arm around my side. “Let's get you upstairs.”

Another urge to up chuck aggressively grabs me as I allow him to guide me away from the pool party and back to their apartment. The minute we're across the threshold, I break away from him and rush for his bathroom.

I drop to my knees, pull my hair to one side, and release the poor attempt of burying a week's worth of sadness. With every heave this moment becomes the cherry on the fucked up sundae of my life.

This is exactly why I didn't wanna cross any lines with Luca! He's poisoned my conscience to the point I'm trying to poison my body to balance out the lurking insanity. God, he should require some sort of Rx label. May cause severe irritation, insomnia, loss of appetite, and extreme mood swings.

Finally finished, I flush the toilet and shut my eyes in hopes the room will stop spinning.

“You done?” His voice quietly questions.

“Have to be,” I groan. “There's nothing left in my stomach.”

“Did you not eat before you started drinking?”

“No,
Mom
.”

“Sure,” he grunts. “Take that fucking tone with me.”

One of my eyes opens to scout the situation. Luca's face is stone cold though his eyes are whirling with worry. Seeing his concern clenches my empty stomach again.

What is wrong with me? Why isn't going back to just being friends as easy as I thought it would be? It's been a week of keeping my distance, shortening the alone time we have together, and basically wearing out the damn batteries in my vibrator. I figured by now we would've shifted back to the way things were, yet as I stare into his eyes at this very moment I'm beginning to realize that's never going to happen. I've lost my best friend. Fuck.

“Come lie in bed.” He clears his throat and slowly approaches me. “I'll go get you some water.”

I drop my hand in his.

The two of us make our way out of his bathroom and back into his bedroom where he helps me crawl into bed. As my head hits the pillow, I helplessly pout.

This is not at all how I hoped I'd end up here. Wait. No. I never wanted to end up here. That's crazy. That's just...insane. Well, his ability to make me come without touching me is insane. This is mild in comparison.

Luca offers me the cold bottle. “Why do you look pissed?”

Still in drunk shit talking mode, I snip, “Why is the first time I'm ever in your bed it's because I'm too wasted to stay on my feet? What the fuck is that about? You can have every triflin' tramp from here to San Francisco in it but me?” I snatch the water bottle away and continue to ramble less coherently than I care to admit, “What makes their pussy so much better than mine that they get to sleep here?”