Long: A Secret Baby Sports Romance(46)
He laughed and walked into the kitchen. “All right. Your call, princess.” He pulled open the refrigerator and held up a green champagne bottle. “How about a toast?”
I frowned. “You know I can’t drink.”
“Oh come on,” he said, popping the cork out, “it’ll be fine.”
“Seriously, Gibson, are you kidding?”
He grinned at me. “It’s sparkling cider. I’m not an asshole.”
I sighed and looked at the label. Sure enough, it was non-alcoholic sparkling cider.
“Sorry,” I said.
“Never doubt me, kid.”
“I won’t. Not ever again.”
“Good.” He grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and poured two drinks. “Here’s to your health and our baby.”
“Cheers.”
We clinked and sipped. I smiled at the bubbles.
“So, how about the tour?” I asked him.
“Angling to get into my room already?”
“You wish,” I said.
“Sure. Whatever you say.” He grinned at me. “Here’s the kitchen.”
“Lovely,” I said.
I followed him into the living room. “This is where the real magic happens.”
“Smells like feet.”
He laughed. “That’s Hynes.”
“I’m sure.”
“Come on. This is the bathroom.” He pointed at a door. “And that’s Hynes’s room.” He pointed at another door.
“Where is he tonight anyway?”
“With a few guys at Dom’s.”
“You weren’t invited?”
“I’m always invited,” he said. “I chose this little gathering instead.”
“Choosing me over your friends? I’m flattered.”
He smirked at me. “Good.” He walked to the end of the hall. “And here’s my room.”
I stepped inside. It was surprisingly neat. A queen bed dominated the center of the room, with a small desk off to one side and two end tables. The closet was closed, but there was shockingly little clutter.
I sat down on his bed and he sat down next to me. I felt nervous all of a sudden, though I didn’t know why. We both understood why I was there and what was going to happen, and I frankly couldn’t wait for him to slowly strip the clothes from my body. But I was also nervous, like this had never happened before.
He smirked at me. “What do you think?”
“It’s a lovely home,” I said. There was a black duffel bag near my feet, sticking out from under the bed. “Hey, didn’t you have this bag with you the other night?”
He glanced down at it. “Yeah. Why?”
“I don’t know. Just making an observation.” I frowned. “You left suddenly and then you had this bag.”
“That’s what happened,” he confirmed. “Go ahead and ask.”
“Ask what?”
“You want to ask what’s inside the bag.”
“I do, but I also know I’m being super nosey and rude.”
“It’s actually for you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Presents already? I think you’re moving a little fast.”
He laughed. “It’s more for our kid, actually. Go ahead and open it if you want.”
I frowned and handed him my drink and then grabbed the bag. I slowly unzipped it.
Stacks of cash. I reached my hands in, my eyes wide. Stacks of twenties filled the bag.
“Holy shit, Gibson. What is this?”
“Five grand,” he said. “I know babies aren’t cheap, and neither are pregnancies.”
“I thought you were broke.”
“As far as anyone else is concerned, I am, but I’m trying to make some money for you.”
“Where’d you get five thousand dollars in cash from?”
He shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”
“Seriously, Gibson, where?”
His face got serious. He stood up and set the cups down on his desk and then looked at me. “Are you sure you want to know? Once I say it, you can never go back.”
“You’re freaking me out.”
“Remember the first half of the game? Remember how I played like shit?”
“You weren’t that bad,” I said, “but yeah. I remember you guys were losing at halftime.”
“I threw the half.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What? Are you kidding?”
“No. I got in contact with some guys that run some sports betting, and they paid me five grand to throw the first half.”
I shook my head, completely blown away. “How would that even work?”
“People bet on more than just who is going to win and who is going to lose. They bet on the winners at halftime, the spread, all sorts of shit. Nobody bet that Mountain was going to be winning at halftime, and these guys made a lot of money.”