Post by Deleted on Jan 12, 2018 9:15:02 GMT -5
Not more than an hour after CJ Cross and Celeste were watching stars in the rafters, just down the road from the Earl Armstrong Arena, Matthew Gamble was celebrating. He had asked Trixie to join him at Crust and Crate, Ottawa’s favorite pizza pub, for pizza and beer. She didn't stand him up and, though she had to fight for it, she was celebrating too.
They had the attention of everyone in attendance. They signed autographs for children, grown men and flannel clad, um, women, they hoped. There was a lot more beer than pizza consumed in their victory dances. He clasped his fingers behind his head, kicked back and listened as she told stories of the road, her travels, her favorite matches and the ones that really stuck it too her. He let her go on about who to trust and who to avoid like the plague.
She drank as much as she talked and when she could no longer hold her balance, perched on his lap, he settled up and helped her into the passenger side of his truck. He stopped at a Speedway on the way back to her motel. He helped her find her key in her purse, helped her into her room and tucked her into bed.
He took a bottle of Sprite and a package of Excedrin out of the plastic bag from the gas station and sat them on her nightstand. He scribbled, “Congrats on yer win. I had a v’ry nice night wit’u.” He added his phone number and folded the note around her key. He left it lying with the Excedrin beside the Sprite. He left her safe and sound, passed out, in her room.
Gamble had earned his chance that night and the signing bonus that he received paid for the trip up, back home and a little more.
His Pappy has always told him, “Jus’bout anyone can poke’a bear, but ain't a soul gonna gets away wit’gettin’ in or stealin’ the bear’s honey. Not wit’out gettin'em sum scars.”
He picked a fight, quite intentionally, with CJ Cross. He did so because CJ reacted to his advances at Celeste the way he did, “but damn, that gal doesn't turn heads, she snaps necks,” he thought.
After listening to her tonight, it was very clear that Trixie was far beyond his league. Her experience is just as intimidating as her beauty. There's one thing that she can count on for certain, this big ol’ boy from Tennessee has her back.
They had the attention of everyone in attendance. They signed autographs for children, grown men and flannel clad, um, women, they hoped. There was a lot more beer than pizza consumed in their victory dances. He clasped his fingers behind his head, kicked back and listened as she told stories of the road, her travels, her favorite matches and the ones that really stuck it too her. He let her go on about who to trust and who to avoid like the plague.
She drank as much as she talked and when she could no longer hold her balance, perched on his lap, he settled up and helped her into the passenger side of his truck. He stopped at a Speedway on the way back to her motel. He helped her find her key in her purse, helped her into her room and tucked her into bed.
He took a bottle of Sprite and a package of Excedrin out of the plastic bag from the gas station and sat them on her nightstand. He scribbled, “Congrats on yer win. I had a v’ry nice night wit’u.” He added his phone number and folded the note around her key. He left it lying with the Excedrin beside the Sprite. He left her safe and sound, passed out, in her room.
Gamble had earned his chance that night and the signing bonus that he received paid for the trip up, back home and a little more.
His Pappy has always told him, “Jus’bout anyone can poke’a bear, but ain't a soul gonna gets away wit’gettin’ in or stealin’ the bear’s honey. Not wit’out gettin'em sum scars.”
He picked a fight, quite intentionally, with CJ Cross. He did so because CJ reacted to his advances at Celeste the way he did, “but damn, that gal doesn't turn heads, she snaps necks,” he thought.
After listening to her tonight, it was very clear that Trixie was far beyond his league. Her experience is just as intimidating as her beauty. There's one thing that she can count on for certain, this big ol’ boy from Tennessee has her back.