The Gamble: A Novel (5 page)

“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.”

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.”

The new information cracks my jaw.

“You're not the only one who knows how to play games, Luca.”

Maybe this is all a game to her, not to fucking me. Not giving me a chance. Maybe it's its own fucked up bet. The idea she's toying with me while I'm toying with her only makes this entire situation hotter. Warren is right. I am pretty fucked up. Then again, if he were neglected by Andrew Larson he'd probably be similar shades of the same twisted fucked black and blue. Maybe that thought isn't so terrible. Maybe I like it because if Alexxa is fucking with me in a similar fashion, we're even more alike than I thought. Even better teammates.

She gives me a playful wink. “You lose.”

“That's the only time you'll ever get to say that.”

Because Luca Larson doesn't
lose.
I just find other opportunities to take.

Alexxa

“It's so weird to me that you can cuss people out in English and Spanish,” I sigh as I slide my hands into my back jean pockets. “I mean the guy in the BMW who stole our parking space deserved it for being a dick, but it's still weird.”

Luca chuckles and tosses another ball into the hoop. “Why's that weird?”

“One, because I'm fairly certain skank is your first language. Not English.” His warm laugh encourages me to continue. “And two, because I
rarely
hear you speak Spanish. In all the time I've known you I've heard everything from jock trash to drunk past the point of gibberish yet only hear you speak Spanish every...I don't know. Blue moon?”

Jimmy, a student with over-sized glasses, comes around the corner whining, “Miss Alexxa, Mr. Luca, I haven't won any tickets.”

Looks identical to the cartoon character Jimmy Neutron, except he has glasses. Yes, weird hair curl included.

Kindly I say, “Well that happens sometimes, Jimmy. It's not a big deal.”

“It's a
huge
deal,” he continues to whimper. “Everyone else won tickets and they're all buying bouncy balls and I want a bouncy ball. They glow in the dark!”

Before I have a chance to explain calmly how life isn't always fair, Luca sinks the last shot in the hole, leans down, rips off the strand of tickets he won and offers them up. “Get the best one you can.”

Jimmy gasps and pushes his falling glasses up. “You sure, Mr. Luca?”

“Yeah, if there's extra get me one too.”

“Yeah! Yeah! Okay! Yeah!” He says in a rushed voice before running off with the tickets.

His simple gesture has me smiling wide. Another thing about Luca I like. Most people never peg him for a fan of kids. I mean come on. They're whiny. They're needy. They're clingy. They're basically like one drunk hook up you can't get rid of for at least 18 years and he loves the shit out of them. Not just the after school kids either. I've seen him coo at babies, crawl around with toddlers, race preschoolers, and there's always this pure joy in his eyes while doing it. When it comes to kids he never hesitates putting his own needs aside to make sure they're taken care. Appreciated. Loved.  

“I usually only speak Spanish away from my ma' when I'm really pissed off or really turned on,” Luca resumes our conversation as we stroll towards another set of the kids who are playing Skee Ball. “Most of the time neither of those things happen.”

Baffled by the sentence I snap, “Luca you have sex more than a congressman who owns a third of the escort company he uses.”

“So?”

“So you just said when you’re turned on and I've never heard you speak Spanish to a chick. And I've heard you say some really dirty things.”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “Do anything for ya?”

“Made sure my gag reflexes were working.”

Luca rolls his eyes and folds his arms across his chest, eyes scouting for all kids in our care. “I said
really
turned on. It doesn't happen that often. I can be turned on and not
really
turned on.”

“That doesn't make any sense.”

“Sure it does.”

“It doesn't.”

I'm not wrong, right? It doesn't make any sense.

“It's not like I think about it. It just happens. You know my mother's Mexican, well she's also fluent in Spanish, but growing up my father was hell bent on me learning English as my first language. Ma' taught me Spanish too, but once she realized it was making it harder for me to learn to read, she dialed it back.”

“You had trouble learning to read?”

He nods. “Touch of dyslexia and a brain constantly translating from English to Spanish and Spanish to English slowed down the process for me. It's the reason I don't really like to read
now
.”

Warren is my book bro. Just assumed Luca didn't like to read because he was a stereotypical jock. It's kinda strange how you spend all the time in the world with someone and still don't know everything about them.

“Anyway, after a while she mainly encouraged me to stick to English, but like some sort of reflex it would still come out when I was too passionate about something. Typically sports.”

His love of sports is intertwined with love for children. They go hand in hand, which is why he's trying to start his own after school and weekend based sports camp. He wants it to be like a child care facility but only it emphasizes on sports. Geared towards school aged children and higher. I've seen bits of the proposal. It's a genius plan.

“And then how often in the bedroom?”

“Just once,” he informs, attention zoning in on a student.

“Just once? What was she like triple breasted?”

Luca tilts his head as he imagines the sight. After a beat he shakes his head. “No. It was just the first time I had ever had it. Slipped out.”

The conversation ends and he strolls over to defuse a possible fight about to break out. I turn the opposite direction to do a round of checking up on the kids who are playing arcade games. Most are enjoying themselves and getting along, but seeing Clare all alone reminds me our assistance is needed to help create friendships as much as it is to help keep them from fist fighting.

“Come on Clare,” I call to her a few steps away. “Let's race on that one.”

Her eyes light up. “Me?”

“Yeah. Think you can beat me?”

She starts to respond when Linda, another girl the same age, rushes to my side. “I call winner!”

Seeing Clare's expression grow brighter, I swing into the next part of plan, and pull out my phone. “Oh. Shoot. I have to go check on the buffet tickets for lunch. Linda you play against Clare this round and
I'll
catch winner.”

Linda shrugs “Okay! Come on, Clare. My brother has a version of this game at home and like never lets me play. He's so mean.”

I turn back the direction I came and scan the rest of the students once more. Strolling away, I decide it's probably a good idea to actually check on the lunch plan and make sure there's enough space for all of our students. After talking to one of the managers and prepping the area, I text Luca to begin the round up process. As they begin to flock in, I take count, and watch the tables fill up.

“Girls, wash your hands and get food,” I instruct leaning against the edge of the booth Luca and I will share.

We let them eat lunch together and supervise from a distance. Trust me, it's healthy to let them practice social behaviors without heavy interference all the time, plus breathing room from them is necessary for us too.

Marcus, one of the older students who has developed an asshole attitude over the last year calls out, “Why do they get to go first?”

“'Cause it's the gentleman thing to do,” Luca replies flopping down in the seat beside me.

“Who cares about being a gentleman?”

“You should.”

Marcus rolls his head around in bored expression.

In a dropped voice I say, “He's like a mini you.”

Luca looks up at me not amused. “He is not.”

“Exactly like you. Loud mouthed. Sports loving. Girl chasing. He's just younger and shorter.”

“I'm not loud.”

My face scrunches.

Funny how that's the first thing he took from the comparison.

“Most dudes love sports-”

“Warren doesn't.”

“Warren also hasn't seen his testicles this side of the decade,” he sharply continues to snap in a whisper. “And there's nothing wrong with likin' chicks. However, I know when to treat one with respect and when to tell her to drop to her knees and call me daddy.”

I wanna argue. I wanna yell at him, say he's full of shit, and how that sentence alone proves he's some new age caveman, but I honestly can't. He does have boundaries. He's never crossed the line with me. Sure, when he gets drunk he gets a little looser with his hands and words, but he's never seriously treated me like the other tramps who've managed to become a part of the whore parade that marches around his apartment. He's playful yet protective. I typically appreciate it. Except for when he tries to cock block like he did last week with the hockey player who hit on me. Despite Luca's best efforts we still went out. Total bust though. Refused to sleep with him on the first date, so he's probably not gonna call. Just as well. He had some serious BO and an under appreciation for hot wings.

Once the girls have returned from the bathroom and started grabbing pizza, I send the boys off to do the same thing.

Luca offers, “Want me to grab you a plate?”

“You don't mind?”

He stands and says, “Of course not. Two slices of pep, one slice with mushrooms, one bread stick and two scoops of mac.”

“Hearing you list it makes me feel fat.”

“You love carbs.” He bumps me playfully. “Nothing wrong with loving the things that are bad for you...”

Luca's comment causes me to cock a grin.

He's not as bad for me as he thinks he is. Wait. No. That came out wrong.

A few minutes later just as the two of us are starting to eat, one of our older campers, mopes over clutching his plate with an unhappy look. “Can I sit at this table, Miss Alexxa?”

I stop the bite I was about to have. “Sure Andy. Can't find anywhere else to sit?”

He frowns. “Um...yeah. Kinda.”

Andy prepares to slide in beside me when Luca extends a hand to stop me. He lowers his voice, “Marcus won't let you sit at his table. If I'm right just nod.”

He nods.

“You don't wanna sit with the younger kids because he always calls you a baby, right?”

Andy slowly nods.

In a shocked whisper, I snap, “He's picking on you?”

Andy mumbles, “It's not a big deal.”

“Yeah you can sit with us.” Luca takes a bite of a breadstick. After he swallows, he raises his voice, “I can't believe I have to tell your mom you got caught kissing some girl from another school.”

His eyes expand wide and the gasps from behind him start.

“Who goes on a field trip and acts like that?”

What...the hell...is he doing?

Luca makes sure his tone is stern. “You know, I don't even think I can trust you to sit anywhere else.”

“He can sit over here,” Marcus volunteers, his table the one directly across from us.

Andy tries to refrain from smiling while Luca shrugs. “I guess that's alright. I can still keep an eye on you from here. Go sit over there with Marcus. Try not to kiss any more girls.” His voice whispers though his lips don't move, “When he asks, her lips were soft, sticky, and tasted like bubble gum. I caught you right after that.”

He nods rapidly and plays along, “Sorry again, Mr. Luca.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Luca shoos him away. “Go eat.”

Andy turns around and walks away to Marcus's table. Out of the corner of my eye I watch him settle in the table immediately being bombarded with questions. Within a matter of a few bites they're laughing together and welcoming him as if it's where he's always belonged.

Okay so....that was kinda cool.