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Gia shakes her head, not looking over at me. “My parents were divorced when my dad died. They split not long after my brothers were born. They’re twins.”
“Wow, that’s pretty cool. How old are they now?”
“They’ll both turn twenty in December. And they want to come here for Thanksgiving. I’m not so sure about that, though.”
“Do they play poker too?”
“No,” she says emphatically. “And I never want them to. They’re both in college. Our mom’s not the greatest, so keeping them in line kind of fell to me. I don’t mind, though.”
Intuitively, I know Gia is at least helping put her brothers through school, if not paying the full cost of their tuition. I can hear the pride and concern in her tone. My urge to blow past the Aria and take her home with me is strong. Fuck working out. I just want to be with her.
“Right here is good,” she says, pointing to an open spot.
“Can’t I get you any closer?”
“Nah, this is great. I’ll walk the rest of the way.”
I pull into the open spot and put my car in park, wishing again that she was coming home with me. “Hey, thanks for tonight,” I say. “I didn’t think anything could get my mind off of that shit show of a game, but you did.”
“Anytime. And thanks for the ice cream.”
“Can we still have breakfast Sunday?” I ask, feeling like a dipshit at the hopeful note in my voice.
“Sure.” She hesitates, and then says, “I like you, Maverick. If I wanted to date a guy, or even just fuck, I’d want you.”
I get hard, even though I know there’s a “but” coming.
“But I’m in Las Vegas playing poker for a reason,” she says. “I have to stay on track. So we need to keep it just friends between us.”
“I get it,” I say, not getting it at all. “My coach told us no women and no partying, and he’s going to be on our asses about everything after tonight, so breakfast buffets are about all I can offer you anyway.”
Gia smiles. “I do love a good breakfast buffet.” She opens the car door and steps out. “Thanks for the ice cream.”
“Text me later?”
“We’ll see,” she says, giving me a playful smile before closing the car door.
We’ll see—my thoughts exactly. I’ve never known a woman like Gia, and I want to be much more than just her friend. For now though, I’ll take what she’s willing to give me and do everything in my power to make her want more, too.
Chapter Ten
Gia
“Did I wake you up?” Ro asks as I walk out of my bedroom.
She’s following a workout on TV, squatting low and kicking in time to the music.
“No, I woke up on my own. I can’t believe I slept until one in the afternoon. I usually don’t get seven hours of sleep in a row.”
“Good for you,” she says, breathless as the workout transitions from kicks to punches. “There’s oatmeal on the stove if you want some.”
Ro is busting her already tight ass to advance to the front line of dancers for the singer whose concert she dances in four nights a week. The famous female pop star is currently commanding record ticket prices. She’s an amazing singer and puts on an incredible show but she also changes it up every month. All new set decorations, lighting and choreography. That means Ro is always learning new choreography, in addition to performing and keeping up with her college classes.
“Come on, enough with the planking,” she whines at the TV before dropping her body to the floor in a plank position.
“Does it hurt?” I ask as I take a Diet Dr Pepper from the refrigerator, open it and sit down on the couch.
“If you do them right, it doesn’t feel awesome,” Ro says. “Try it with me.”
“Uh…I’m super busy here.”
“Gia! Put your phone down and plank. This is one of the best all-around exercises there is.”
I look up from my phone screen at her. “I get why you’re doing it, and I support that. But I’m a poker player, and we—”
“Get down here and plank!” she commands. “You’re going to turn into a Cheeto if you don’t start doing something besides walking. And toast isn’t a balanced diet, FYI.”
Sighing heavily, I set my phone down and join her on the floor, mimicking her position.
“Butt down!” she says.
“Don’t be hating on toast. It’s delicious.”
“I just want you to eat something other than just toast. Maybe some fruits and vegetables?”
The voice on the screen says we can stop planking, and I let myself fall flat on the floor.
“That was ridiculous,” Ro says. “You planked for like three seconds.”
“I had ice cream last night,” I offer. “Does that count as something other than toast?”
“Sadly, no. But what kind was it?”
“My usual, mint chocolate chip.”
