The Gamble: A Novel by Xavier Neal Page B

with some sort of focus back in place, he offers me the flowers. “Your favorite.”
     
    Still grinning, I take them. “You didn't have to.”
     
    “Thought they'd make you smile.”
     
    “Total line,” I call out.
     
    It so was.
    He slides his hands in his pockets. “Or maybe I knew the shitty day you had at work and thought your favorite flower might make you smile. Even if it was just for a moment, it was worth it.”
     
    How he gets women to drop their panties is making so much more sense faster and faster. The confidence in his elocution. Putting just enough softness in it to be baited into believing everything out of his mouth is meaningful. Master player in the Superbowl of manipulation. He's collecting points on the board and the clock has barely started. Oh my gosh....am I really using sports analogies? I have to stop hanging out with him.
     
    “That um...sounds like a line too.”
     
    Marie whispers, “Because it is.”
     
    He casually shrugs. “It's not.”
     
    What do you think?
     
    Before I have a chance to ask, Marie volunteers, “I'll put those in water for you.”
     
    “Thanks.”
     
    She takes the flowers and warns, “Be safe and come home tonight.”
     
    “I will. No couch crashing for me.”
     
    “Or bed crashing,” she reiterates.
     
    Luca tosses his head at her. “Enjoy your night, Marie.”
     
    She gives him a harsh glare before she shuts the door behind us.
     
    On our way to the parking lot, he sighs, “She's always going to hate me, isn't she?”
     
    “Probably.”
     
    Part of me loves the fact I never have to worry about her confessing that they ended up in bed together or asking for advice on how to tell her boyfriend.
     
    At his car, I prepare to open my door when his hand gets in the way. He quickly asks, “What do you think you're doing?”
     
    “I thought I was getting in the car. Walking to the hockey game doesn't really sound like fun to me.”
     
    My sarcastic remark is met with a slick smirk. “I meant, a woman shouldn't open her own door.”
     
    “Luca, I always open my own car door.”
     
    “Not when you're one a date with me,” his voice softens. “You deserve to be treated like a lady. Now...” He gives the handle a sharp tug. “Let me help you in.”
     
    I roll my eyes at the tactic.
     
    So being on a date means my fingers no longer work? Does he think I need to save them for the hand job he's never going to get?
     
    After slipping inside, I wait for him to get in to before saying, “Can I buckle myself or do you need to do that too?”
     
    Luca leans against his door. “You're really being bitchy about me wanting to open your door?”
     
    “It's just a door.”
     
    “Yeah, Alexxa. It's just a door. I was trying to be a gentleman.”
     
    “It's weird,” my mouth instantly vomits. “All of this is weird. The flowers. The door. The fact I know you're wearing your woman trap cologne-”
     
    “What?”
     
    Leaning against my own door, I explain, “Your woman trap cologne. It's the one in the black bottle, the one you wear when you've met a chick you have to take out for longer than one drink to seal the deal. The red bottle is the one you put on after the gym. The one in the glass bottle is strictly for already on the list women.”
     
    For a moment he leaves his mouth shut tightly. However, just as I begin to think maybe I've gotten out of this monstrosity he says, “You think it's weird I tried to open your door? Well I think it's fucking weird you've cataloged my cologne.”
     
    “I think it's weird you unconsciously cataloged your own cologne!”
     
    “You do the same shit!”
     
    “I do not!”
     
    “You do, but it's not with perfume because you only own one bottle and it's reserved for anything that requires you to wear the one designer dress in your wardrobe.”
     
    What the hell would I need more than one for?!
     
    “You have four types of bras. The one you wear to work. The one you wear to self-defense