Chasing Summers

1. JOSH

JOSH

Chips were piled in front of the five of us like it was a Vegas tournament instead of my condo, not that any of us had glanced at them in the past hour.

When the real bets started. The fucking bets.

The kind that had nothing to do with money and everything to do with ego.

Each of them designed to be more embarrassing than the last, like an elaborate game of truth or dare.

No one had lost yet, no matter what we went through.

The stakes were high and the gamble was not knowing what you were doing until you won or lost. It kept us in check, and from quitting the game too early. No one had ever backed down. Needing the game to end, Carlos offered a double-or-nothing hand.

Milos and Jake had already folded. Kev was debating his hand. Carlos had already declared he was in on the flop. I did my best to keep stoic, despite my eyes drifting to the five cards in my hand, a full house, aces high. It was my best hand tonight.

Carlos shifted in his seat impatiently. A tell he had something, but was mine good enough to take him down?

Kev sighed. “Fold.”

And then there were two. For a split second, I hesitated. Carlos was the worst of us to lose to, but if I bested him, the payback I could inflict was too fucking tempting.

Carlos’s thick, bushy brow arched as if he were daring me to continue. “Scared?”

His taunting was enough to push me over the edge. Fuck it. My hands released the cards as I flipped them over face down up in front of me.

“Full house!” I smacked the table hard, declaring my preemptive victory.

Jake clapped. “Nice.”

“Very nice,” Carlos agreed with a smirk. He squeezed my shoulder and leaned over the side of me, his beard brushing past me as he laid his cards out. “But not nice enough.”

He took his time revealing each card, one by one my stomach dropped. No fucking way. Milos and Kev edged closer to take a peek. My eyes nearly bugged out of the sockets when I saw four fives next to the Ace of Hearts. Someone let out a low whistle.

Mother fucker.

My hands flew to my hair and tugged at the strands. The sweet taste of victory that had been lingering in my mouth disappeared and was replaced by the sour taste of my stomach contents churning. How did he pull four of a kind?

My head hung and my fists clenched. He gripped my shoulder tighter; I could feel them rising to my ears. “Since you lost your bet to me, I think I have the ultimate challenge, just for you.”

I grabbed the glass with my whiskey neat, took a large swig, and waited for him to finish the awful dialogue he pulled every time he won a significant bet. The gleam on Milos’s face made me wish I’d folded, too.

I’d like to say I wasn’t waiting with bated breath to see what ridiculous stunt he was going to make me do, like hand over a car, try to get me to do his sweaty laundry for a month using a toothbrush, or some shit like that.

But when he inched closer, his scruffy cheek brushing against mine, a tingle passed through me.

Something was not right. For the love of Christ, I wished he would back the fuck up.

“Josh, how’s that supermodel, Veronika?” he asked, referring to my latest date for the end-of-season awards ceremony we had celebrated not long ago. Why was he choosing this particular line of questioning? Inquisitive faces staring back said they were curious also. Not good.

I shrugged my shoulder and shoved him away from me before I answered. “Fine. I guess.”

He raised his unusually thick eyebrows. “You guess?”

“You know how I roll.” Implying I hadn’t seen her since.

A smirk spread across his face. “Ah, yes. The playboy life.”

A flash of my latest fans ran through my brain like a Rolodex of beautiful women, all eager to be the one to change my ways. Ha. As if. No rules, and no responsibilities, except for my team and the coaches. Why the hell would I want to complicate that?

“You know, Josh, maybe a little…structure might do you good.” He smirked.

What did that mean?

He stopped behind me, placing his large catcher hands on my shoulders. The hair on my neck stood up. “What are you getting at, Carlos?”

“Love,” he whispered, barely audible.

As it came out of his mouth, it turned my veins to ice and caused me to sputter out my whiskey. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Not clear enough.” I squirmed out from under him.

He took a stance, widening his legs and crossing his arms over his chest. “Love.”

“That’s not something you can bet on.” I shook my head. “I don’t do love.”

“So, you forfeit?” Carlos grinned as if he had bested me.

I shoved away from the table. “The fuck I do. Make a reasonable bet.”

“I did. That’s the only thing that will bring your cocky ass down. Whatever stunt I’d make you do; you’d do it.”

He was right, which only made me want to punch him square in his over-sized nose before he continued. “You need an actual challenge, one you won't let that big ego get in the way of.”

Fucking Carlos knew exactly how to get to me. There was nothing he could dare me do that would make me lose the bet to him, except this.

“Exactly what does he have to do?” Jake interjected in his calming dad voice.

“This is what I’m thinking. Mr. Lover over here already has everything, and he embarrasses himself enough that I wouldn’t add much to his reputation.”

“Funny.” I flipped him off.

Milos chuckled, as if in agreement. Earning him a glare from me.

Carlos continued, “Here’s the deal. You must try for love. Not lust or one-night stands. Hell, not even a weekend fling. True love.”

“How in the hell am I supposed to do that?”

“Whatever you do, do the opposite.” Jake laughed.

I shot him a, not-so-subtle, screw you glance. “It’s not that easy, man. You got lucky with Millie.”

They all nodded at Jake’s good fortune for finding his dream girl by sheer happenstance.

“He may have a point.” Kev shrugged.

I could see the wheels of Carlos’s brain turning and I didn’t like the face he was making. “We could take a trip. It worked for Jake.”

My head shook violently. “No. Just because it worked for him, doesn’t mean it will for me.”

Grunts and agreements were heard from them collectively.

“I have an idea,” Milos chimed.

“No.” I shot him down before they could all get in on this.

He scoffed. “You didn’t even hear it.”

“Don’t care. No.”

“Not to be the one to bring up the logic in this plan, but how are we going to know if it’s real or fake?” Kev asked, still sitting backwards in his chair.

“Good point,” Jake chimed in.

What the actual? I would expect skepticism from Carlos, but not Kev.

“First of all, I’m insulted. And secondly, even if I go along with this charade, how will I know if she is faking it because of who I am?” Been there, done that. Never doing it again.

Carlos tapped his grubby finger against his chin. Silence fell across the room, as if they were all thinking about how to help Carlos force me into this bet.

Milos’s booming voice cut into the silence. “She can’t know who you are.”

There was a gasp of “ooh.”

“Seriously?” Jake asked. “How is that even possible?”

Milos waved his hand like it was no big deal. “Everything is online, you know, like a mail-order bride, except she’s not the bride and only he knows about the bet.”

Carlos’s eyes lit up like he was staring at a winning slot machine. He bolted over to Milos and kissed the top of his head. “That’s it! Online. We give him a fake name, a pic of anything other than him and, bam, there’s the catch.”

“Pretty sure that’s catfishing.” Kev shook his head. Thank fuck, a useful argument.

Carlos waved his hand. “Not if it’s not done maliciously. I’m not looking for him to lead her on. This is the real deal and once they have a connection, then he can reveal the truth.”

Jake lets out a low whistle, leaning back in his leather chair. His amusement was evident.

“Despite that shitty playboy attitude, I know you want more. I heard you whining to Jake about how you never got to meet women like Millie,” Kev added.

Damn tequila. “I only said that after a few too many drinks and seeing Millie console Jake after a tough loss, but don't most guys?”

“Not me.” Milos raised his glass and took a swig, winking at us. “I’m happy to take home anyone for the night and de-stress, if you know what I mean.”

“See? I agree.” I raised my glass, clinking it with his. We both took a swig, letting the amber liquid slowly burn down my throat.

“Hey, we all like that. But sometimes a guy needs more. Take Jake for example. He was in the slump of all slumps, then bam, Millie came along and now he’s number one in the league again.” Kev smirked.

Pushing back from the table I asked, “You saying my game is shit?”

Carlos and Jake both teetered their hands back and forth. I rolled my eyes and let out a sigh.

“We are getting off topic here. The topic is this absurd wager Carlos made, which shouldn’t even be allowed. I don’t do relationships. And no one should be forced into one,” I added angrily.

“Not every girl is—” Kev started.

Cutting him off, I raised my finger at him. “Don’t even think about finishing that sentence.”

Kev was the only guy in this room who knew about Mya, and although I could see everyone’s faces eager to learn what was about to come out of Kev’s mouth, that was a can of worms I had zero interest in opening. Ever.

Kev shot me an apologetic look.

“Don’t think of it as forcing, think of it as encouragement,” Jake added, a little too chipper for my liking.

There was a collective snickering among them before Carlos clapped me on the back. “Are you in? Or can’t you hack a little wager?”

Little wager my ass. Groaning, I grabbed my glass and tipped out the last sip of my whiskey.

The thought of being the only person who had ever backed down from Carlos made my skin crawl nearly as bad as the thought of being in love.

There was a lot of pride on the line here.

Dating wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t like he could make me fall in love.

I just had to make it seem as if I was trying.

As the last drop of whiskey hit my tongue, I slammed the glass down. Shook out my shoulders and stared right into Carlos’s deep, dark eyes, feeling like I was about to sell my soul. “I’m in.”

“This should be interesting,” Kev and Jake both said in unison.

No fucking kidding. Carlos had no idea how determined I was to not fucking lose to him.