Page 3 of Breaking the Ice

“Alright, now calm down, okay?” I raise my hands in a soothing gesture as I approach the two. “We're on the brink of entering the playoffs. We've got a crucial game coming up next Sunday. We really should be focusing on the championship.”

“Feel free, Beanpole,” Durand bypasses my attempt at mediation, takes a step toward Parker, and looks up at him with a venomous glare. Oh damn, does it have to be like this?

“Come on, let's drop it, you two,” I attempt one last time.

“Yeah,” Toby chimes in, moving towards them and placing his gigantic hands on each of their shoulders. “No need for fisticuffs. How about you make a bet instead?” I squint. This is the lousiest idea he could have come up with, and at the same time, so typical of him. I don't know if all Swiss people are like this, resolving every issue with some kind of bet. Toby definitely gets a kick out of it.

“And what do you have in mind?” Durand sounds skeptical but not uninterested.

“Well, you could bet on who can bed the girl first. Let's say you have until the finals.”

“Finals? We’re not even sure to get that far yet.”

“I'm firmly convinced that we can make it. What do you guys think, are you with me?” A unanimous roar of agreement ripples through the locker room. Each of us is laser-focused on winning the championship. And honestly, from where I stand, we've got a real shot at it.

“Even if we don't make it that far, I'd say we agree on the finals as the cutoff. Alright with you?” Toby's gaze shifts from Parker to Durand.

“Fine by me,” he says. “But if I win, Parker shaves his eyebrows and his flow.”

Durand raises his hand to his head, running his fingers through his brown hair. The crease that forms between his brows reveals his uncertainty.

“What? Losing your nerve?” Parker provokes him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Afraid of losing?”

“Against a wimp like you? Definitely not. I'm in.”

“And if neither of you manages to get the girl?” I ask. I know Toby and his crazy bets; I'm sure there's more to come.

“Unlikely. You'll see; by the end of the month, my fingers will smell like that girl's lady juice.” Durand's grin is smug.

“In case Emma throws both of them off the bed, they either fulfill their respective bet conditions or wash our jockstraps for a week,” the Swiss guy explains with a diabolical glint in his eye. Suppressing a gag at the thought of sweaty cup protectors, I see some of us aren't exactly hygiene conscious. I don't even want to imagine what else might be clinging to them aside from sweat and ball hair. Parker seems to share the sentiment, as I can see him visibly shudder in disgust.

“I am in favor of redeeming the personal bet stakes.” He declares.

“Works for me,” Durand shrugs unimpressed. “I'm going to win, anyway.”

“Dream on, Canadian. Emma will pick me. No woman wants a towering meter stick like you.”

“Oh yeah, you...”

“Hold on, hold on, hold on!” Toby steps between the two, giving them a ‘shut up already’ look. “So, just to spell it out for the slow ones: You've got until the finals to bed, Emma. If Parker gets there first and scores with her, Durand gets his head shaved along with his eyebrows. If Durand wins the bet, he gets three free shots on a naked Parker.”

“With a cup and a helmet,” my rather pale friend adds.

“With a cup and a helmet, of course,” Toby rolls his eyes. “And in case neither of you big mouths manages to bed Emma, you both have to fulfill your respective bets.”

While the Swiss guy lays down the rules again, Parker and Durand lock eyes with hatred.

“So, gentlemen, do we have a deal?” Toby looks between the two with eyebrows raised in expectation.

“Deal,” Parker grumbles.

“Deal,” Durand confirms.

“Excellent!” Toby cheers as the two shake hands to seal their pact. “In that case, as the designated bet commissioner, there's only one thing left for me to say: Let the games begin!” Another round of cheering echoes through the locker room, and some of the players cheer on their favorites. Great, now the whole team is focused on this stupid bet instead of our goal. Heaven help us if this crap affects our performance. Then I'll rip Toby a new one and give that damn Emma a piece of my mind too. Whatever kind of girl she is, one thing's for sure: She's already getting on my nerves.

3

Emma

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