The Gamble: A Novel (30 page)

Luca

I've never played a game this shitty before. Why the fuck did I even bother showing up?

Cook passes me the ball. The minute I've got it, I make an attempt for a three pointer to just have it bounce off the rim and right into the other team's hands.

“Fuck,” I grumble and jog to the opposite end of the court where they've taken off.

By the time I'm down there it's too late. They've scored, putting us down by ten.

Rich calls a time out, which I never thought I'd be so fucking thankful for. With my head down, I walk towards our end of the court, seconds from giving up.

Not a quitter, but fuck. Today it feels like it. All the proof of the boozing I did is finally resurfacing. Nothing worse than the goddamn beer sweats. I've barely set foot in the gym since Alexxa dumped me so why I thought jumping back into the routine Saturday basketball game out of shape was a great fucking idea is what I'm still trying to figure out. Oh. And getting her a fucking dog. She probably hates it. Hates me. She's most likely found a small loophole around the plan I had in motion in an attempt to get just
one
fucking moment of her time. Fuck. Me. Could shit get any worse? Fuck that. Anytime some asshole says that it immediately does.

“What the fuck Larson?” Cook gripes. “You screw some chick’s brains out last night so hard you fucked yours up too?”

A familiar urge surges through my balled fists. I don't bother retorting.

A big palm hits me on the back. “Cut him some fucking slack. We all go through shit.”

Kellar's attempt to help only makes me feel worse.

Some of these people are probably hiding from their own problems.
Real
problems. Not punk bitch my girlfriend left me cause I was an asshole ones. Doubt he thought his attempt to have my back would just make me feel shittier. Not exactly how a teammate is supposed to make you feel.

“Let's call a water break,” Kellar insists.

Cook nods and shouts to the other team, “Water!”

They acknowledge with a wave and I know I have the next five minutes to try to get my head in the game.

Or convince some other asshole to take my place.

My team breaks off to grab their water jugs except Kellar who motions his head to the opposite side. “You're water's that way.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” When he doesn't answer I turn and my heart instantly drops to my shoes. “No fuckin' way....”

Did you know? Did you know and not fucking tell me?

I quickly jog past the few people who enjoy watching us play to the gym doors.

As soon as I'm in front of Alexxa, she sighs, “You're making me have Warren dog sit for this? You're awful.”

The instinct to blow off the game, to take her out of here to beg like I'm the fucking Temptations, races through my veins, but seeing the mirth in her eyes lets me know not yet. “What the fuck do you mean awful?”

“I mean pretty sure I can play better than that in
heels
.”

Someone eavesdropping chuckles, which makes Alexxa smirk.

Fuck, I've missed her mouth. What comes out of it, the way it curves like that....of course I missed it on mine and my dick, but I wasn't gonna say that. Timing! I've learned better timing than that.

“We'll win now that my favorite teammate is here.”

“Kellar?” She playfully questions. “He's been here.”

“You,” I counter.

Alexxa presses her lips together to keep from swooning.

I know she wants to fucking swoon. I know what a woman's face looks like when that's gonna occur. I've sat through enough chick flicks to know, so trust me. She wants too. She's just trying really fucking hard not to.

There's a shouting of my name and she tosses her head. “Your team is calling.”

“Promise you'll still be here at the end of the game?”

“Yeah...” The second I start to smile she adds, “But if you lose I'm gonna rub it in your face for the next like three weeks, at least.”

“Not gonna lose...”

Especially with her threat hanging over my head. Are you fucking kidding? Can't spend the next three weeks with her reminding me of this failure every time we sit down for dinner or go out for a drink. Hm. However, I do like the idea of her being around in my life for the next three weeks. Guess hope just grew to basketball size.

I make my way back to my team with a new energy pumping through me. Once we're all gathered again, Cook gives us a brief strategy for the final quarter, making sure to chew me out one more time about my shitty playing. After assuring him I've got it together, we take the court for the final stretch.

For the next fifteen minutes, it's as if the other three quarters never existed. Instead of losing balls, I'm constantly stealing them and making the shot. Each time the ball rolls off my fingertips and for the backboard I know it's going to go in. And it does. In what has to be some sort of personal record we fly from being behind to being tied with about a minute left in the game. I managed to swipe the ball from Glen, a guy who spends most of his time in the gym staring at himself in the mirror while he lifts weights, and drive it back to our half of the court leaving me with two choices. I could attempt the final shot, take home the glory for tipping us back over to the winning side or pass the ball to Kellar and let him get it in guaranteed. Without hesitation I pass the ball and Kellar pulls his infamous hook shot seconds before the clock goes off.

A victory cry comes out of me and him alike as we high five.

I'll be the first to admit I'm a selfish bastard in real life, but when it comes to the game, any true sport, I'll always be the first one to give up a moment of self glory for the entire team to have it.

After we shake hands with the other players, I quickly grab my bag, and rush towards the doors where Alexxa is beaming proudly.

You're smiling too. It's alright. You don't have to hide it.

The two of us make our way through the gym for the front doors. Desperate to say something, but not ready to ruin the simple fact she's actually here, I keep my mouth shut and admire everything I've missed over these past few weeks.

Did she get hotter? Is that even possible? I mean... come on. Look at her. Her tits were perfect before but now they're like extra perfect. Ass too. And those fucking eyes too. How'd they get even more beautiful?

When we finally reach her car, I playfully state, “Guess we'll have to pick another topic to talk about for the next three weeks.”

Alexxa leans against the driver's side door. “Guess so.”

Silence starts to creep in and a gust of fall wind kicks up. Unsure of the best way to start, I go in head first, “I'm sorry about everything that happened.”

“Everything?”

“Well, all the bad shit that went down. I'm sorry for all that.”

“How sorry?”

“Really fucking sorry.”

She folds her arms across her chest. “Sorry enough to beg on your knees?”

Didn't see that coming.

The question shifts my weight. “Is that what it's gonna take?”

Her eyes stay in mine. “That's where it's gonna start.”

“Then yeah, I'll beg, on my knees.”

“Right here. Right now.”

Seeing the challenge in her eyes running along with the desperation of needing me to be the man of my word she fears I'm not, I drop my gym bag to the side, and lower myself down to both my knees. Once I'm there, I repeat, “I'm so fucking sorry.”

There's an immediate uproar of laughter from behind me and I turn around to see the players filing out of the building.

Fuck.

My instinct is to jump up, shake it off, pretend the shit never happened, but when I turn around to see Alexxa waiting for me to make my next play, most likely to do just that, I stay still.

“How does it feel?” She softly questions. “How does it feel to have the person who loves you embarrass and dehumanize you?”

I twist a smile. “You still love me?”

Flustered, she tosses her hands in the air. “Of course I still love you ya big fucking asshole!”

After a small laugh, I start again, “I'm really
really
fucking sorry, Alexxa. I know it doesn't matter if I say it every day for the rest of our lives, it'll still never be enough. You're a person not a conquest and it was my own fucked up self worth that made me treat you that way.”

Her shoulders slump as she whispers, “You...you can get up now...”

The minute I'm on my feet my mouth runs away again, “I love you, baby. I think part of me always has. I think the bet was just my stupid-”

“Very stupid.”

“
Very stupid
way of trying to have a scrimmage without risking losing an actual game, without having to risk losing you. You're my best friend. You're...my favorite teammate, and life isn't a sport worth competing in without you by my side. Sounds corny and ripped off from a bad B movie, but it's the God's honest truth. I don't even care if we have to start all over again. I don't care if we have to start as friends and it takes another three years to get back where we were as long as we
get back
where we were.”

To my surprise she runs her hands down my chest. “I feel like you've been practicing that speech.”

“Once or twice,” I casually lie.

Some variation of it basically every night before I crash out in my half drunken state.

“But I mean every fucking word of it.”

She tugs at the bottom of my shirt. “You'll wait another three years to have sex with me?”

I fight the desire to groan. “If...if I have to.”

“What about four?”

“Fine.”

“Five?”

“Are we on some sort of fucked up version of The Price is Right?”

She starts to giggle and for the first time in what feels like forever, everything seems to be right in my world. Alexxa softly whispers, “I've missed you...”

Carefully I slide my hands onto her hips. “I've missed the hell out of you...”

I prepare to lower my mouth to hers when she snaps with a stern finger in my face. “But I swear if you ever and I do mean
ever
do something this level of fucked up again, I will cut off your balls and turn them into Dandy's chew toy.”

A shudder runs through me at the thought.

That would be a backfire for getting her a dog if there ever was one.

“I'll do it myself.” The declaration has her melting back into my arms. Our eyes connect for a brief moment. “Can I kiss you now?”

She smiles but shakes her head. “No.”

“Well I'm gonna do it anyway.”

“Then why'd you ask?”

“To be polite?”

“You sona-” is the only part to successfully make it out of her before my tongue is swirling around hers, pleading for absolution. Alexxa allows me to continue to dictate the details of it as I attempt to devour her harder, faster, equally terrified she might change her mind and starving for her affections.