The minute she left, my foot started throbbing again.
Apparently, I have what’s called a Jones fracture, but the doctor said it was minimal. The doctor told me it would take about five weeks to heal if I follow his advice.
If I stop running for a few weeks, ice it, and go to physical therapy, there’s a good chance I’ll be able to play this coming season. I’m not happy about using a walking boot to help with the healing, but if it helps me be able to play, I’ll do it.
I'm supposed to go out tonight with some of my teammates for Miranda’s birthday. She’s one of our athletic trainers and has been an excellent friend to a lot of us. Even though I should stay home with my foot up, I don’t want to miss celebrating with my friends.
We’re going to the newest club in Clearwater, and since I don’t dance, my foot is my new excuse to stay off the dance floor.
Miranda always tries to get me to dance. I don’t have two left feet…I have about seven. If you think I’d dance halfway decently since I’m an athlete…you’d be wrong.
Thankfully, my bathroom comes with a bench seat in the shower, because showering on one foot would’ve been a struggle.
I glance at my watch. Chris will be home in an hour.
After grabbing a pre-party beer, I relax on our deck. It’s a perfect evening, around seventy-five degrees. The sun is starting to go down behind the building in front of my place, and just beyond that is the beach.
These next five weeks are going to suck ass. I miss my morning runs already, but somehow, I’m going to have to keep myself busy.
At least Coach Sellers wasn’t as pissed off as I thought he’d be. I asked Chris if I should be nervous about a trade based on Coach’s reaction, but he reassured me Coach wouldn’t trade me.
I’m the best midfielder the Rebels have. I’m not arrogant about it. My stats speak for themselves.
Most of the other midfielders are fresh out of college so while they’re fast, sometimes they don’t read the plays right.
At the age of thirty, Chris and I are the oldest players on the team. At this age, it can lead to me being traded. It’s a delicate balance for sure.
Just then, the back door opens and Chris walks in. How the hell can it be eight o’clock already? I must have really been lost in thought.
“Hey man.”
“I’m ready. Let me just grab my keys.”
Ten minutes later, we arrive at Club Electric. Chris slows his steps while I hobble to the front door.
“Jesus, you’re like an old man, Cam.”
Everyone on the team calls me Cam, short for my last name.
“I feel like it.” I laugh as we enter the already crowded club.
“Shit,” Chris says. “I thought eight o’clock was early.”
“Me too,” I say as I spot our group. “They’re over there.” I point to a few tables pushed together.
Chris takes the lead, pushing through the crowd of writhing bodies. I follow, trying to shield my foot from being trampled on.
“You alright?” he asks as we approach Miranda and the others.
“Yeah, thanks for parting the crowd for me.”
The women in the crowd turn and look at us while we move in and out of traffic. The two of us couldn’t look more different. While I’m taller and blond, Chris has dark hair and eyes. He’s also a bit more muscular, but we both do equally well with the women.
Chris and I greet Miranda, Josh, David, and Simon.
“How are you feeling, Cam?” Josh asks.
“Hurts like a bitch, but I wouldn’t miss this one’s birthday.” I nod to Miranda.
Miranda gives me her best resting bitch face…her words, not mine.
“Come on, old man, let’s get you a drink for my birthday.”
Sophia
Oh my! Club Electric is just what I thought it would be and more. The dance floor is filled with scantily dressed people, most of whom are coupling up and grinding on each other.
I love to dance, but I’ve never really had the opportunity to dirty dance with anyone. I’m not sure I have it in me even if some guy asked.
Brenda pulls me through the crowd over to a high-top table.
“What are you drinking tonight?”
Brenda scrunches her nose. “I don’t know. What sounds good to you?”
Now the thing about this is, the only alcohol I've had to drink most of my life is communion wine. Needless to say, I hate wine.
“How about a frozen mango margarita?” I ask as I look at the drink menu.
“Sounds good to me. I’ll go order.”
Brenda, dressed in her tight-fitting white dress, and red stilettos turns all the men’s heads as she walks to the bar.
I look down at what I’m wearing and sigh. My denim capris, short-sleeve black top, and matching wedge sandals don’t exactly scream sex appeal.
I made a promise to myself when I left the convent I would allow myself enough time to get reacclimated to civilian life. Brenda keeps telling me time’s up. She wants me to meet a guy, fall in love, and do all the things I would’ve been doing if not for the fact that I was a nun.
Sometimes, I still look around to see if someone is talking to me when I hear the name Mary or Anthony in a conversation. Sister Mary Anthony was my religious name, which I chose after my aunt.
Glancing around at the others in the club, it reinforces my thoughts about how much I missed. Suddenly, I feel out of place, wanting to run out the door.
“Here you go,” Brenda says as she sets my drink down.
“Thanks.”
I grab hold of the frosty glass and take a long drink of my margarita.
“Wow, slow down there. You know you’re a lightweight.” Brenda laughs.
Oh my God, brain freeze.
“Shit, that hurts,” I say with a giggle.
We took an Uber here so we can both drink what we want. The only problem is, two drinks is pretty much my limit, but Brenda can drink all night. Usually, by the time we go home, I no longer have a buzz.
Ten minutes later, our glasses are empty, and I’m feeling the need to dance. I grab Brenda by the hand and lead her out to the dance floor.
There’s a mix of bass-thumping music. My hips take on a life of their own as we find an open spot.
I wouldn’t say I’m a great dancer. I have rhythm, and I’m not accident prone, so that’s a plus. Song after song, Brenda and I move about the changing color floor. Finally, when we can hardly catch our breaths, we take a quick break for another mango margarita.
“The music is great tonight.”
“I overheard some guy at the bar say the club flew in some DJ from Las Vegas,” Brenda says as she finishes the last of her drink.
Just then, I notice a guy heading for us, but he’s looking at me, not Brenda. He’s an attractive guy with red hair and the makings of a baby beard.
I try to avert my eyes, but he’s moving quickly.
“Excuse me. My name is Todd. I was hoping you’d dance with me, babe.”
OK, first off, babe? Really? I’m so not a babe. Even Brenda snickers.
“Um, nice to meet you, Todd,” I say, extending my hand.
“So, what’s your name, sweet thing?”
More snickering from Brenda. She knows guys like this aren’t even on my radar. I’m not too sure who’s on my radar at this point.
“My name is Sophia. Thank you for asking, but I think I’m too tired to dance right now.”
I know it’s a lame excuse, but I need this guy to get away from me. I’ve never been assertive in my life, so when it comes to social situations like this, I’m wading into new territory.
“You sure about that, Sophia? Because I can hold you up all night if you need,” Todd asks as he leans in near my ear.
Gross!
Just as my wingman—or I should say, wing woman—starts to get off her chair, I hear a familiar voice.
“The lady said she’s tired, so why don’t you back off?”
Leo
>
I could sense her the second she walked into the club. Fresh-faced and unassuming Sophia. She’s the only woman in here tonight who has my attention.
Sure, there are women in revealing clothes, and yeah, they’re probably the type I’d go for. But not now. If I have a chance with my favorite nurse, I’m going to take it.
I watch her throughout the night. Between drinks and conversation with my friends, my eyes follow her hips and ass on the dance floor.
Sophia loves to dance, I can tell. She moves with a grace and rhythm I could only dream of having.
“What’s got your attention?” Chris asks as he follows my line of sight. “Holy shit, it’s the nurse from yesterday.”
“Sophia,” I tell him.
“You lucky son of a bitch. This could only happen to you.” Chris chuckles.
“Hey, you two. What are you talking about?” Miranda asks as she makes her way over.
“Cam here has the hots for a nurse he met yesterday. Her shift ended before he could ask her for her number, but she’s here tonight,” Chris explains, and Miranda immediately starts scanning the room.
“Alright, you two knock it off,” I tell them both.
My attention turns back to Sophia and her friend. She looks like she’s having a good time.
I battle with myself whether or not I should approach her. She seemed pretty easygoing at the hospital.
My decision’s made for me the minute I see some douchebag walk up to her. It looks like he’s asking her to dance and she’s turning him down.
I relax for a minute…until he looks like he isn’t taking no for an answer—persistent little fucker.
“Chris?”
“Yeah, Cam?”
“You have my back?”
“Ah, fuck. What are we gonna do?”
“Looks like some asshole is bothering Sophia.” I nod across the club.
Chris follows my line of sight and settles on the scene. He lets out a sigh, knowing I’m injured and he may have to do some of the “heavy lifting,” so to speak.
“All right, Cam, let’s go.”
I try not to hobble too much. An already injured man won’t do much to create apprehension in another.
As we get closer to Sophia, I hear her tell the guy she’s tired and doesn’t want to dance.
Sophia has her back to me as I move in.
“The lady said she’s tired, so why don’t you back off?”
“Who the hell are you?” the sleaze ball asks.
Before I can answer, Sophia turns to see me. The instant our eyes meet, she gives me a look of recognition, but our connection is broken when I hear him ask again.
“I said, who the hell are you?”
“He’s my boyfriend,” Sophia blurts out.
The girl she’s with chokes on her drink, Chris coughs, but I decide to play along.
“As my beautiful woman said, I’m her boyfriend. Now, I think it’s time you leave her alone,” I say, as I move next to Sophia and throw my arm around her.
She rests her head on my shoulder, playing up our little sham. Problem is, the minute we touch, my body responds. It feels as if it’s on fire. Sophia has lit up my senses.
“Sorry, man. I didn’t know she was with someone,” he says, putting his hands up in surrender.
“It shouldn’t matter if a woman is with someone or not. She told you she wasn’t interested. You should’ve moved on. Now…” I say as I move closer to him while being mindful of my foot, “you need to get away from her.”
“All right, man. No worries. I got a woman at home anyway.” He turns and walks toward the door.
Asshole.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry!” Sophia says, covering her face with her hands.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. Glad I was here to get rid of that asshole for you.” I wink at her.
“And who might you be?” her friend asks as she holds her hand out.
“My name’s Leo Cameron. And this is my friend, Chris.” I nod behind her, to where he’s standing.
“I’m Brenda,” she replies with a quick handshake.
Brenda turns around and acknowledges Chris. I notice he can’t take his eyes off her ass. Just great.
“How do you know Sophia?”
Sophia looks to me and smiles.
“I hurt my foot yesterday. I wanted her to be my nurse and take care of me. But she refused so I had Nurse Ratchet instead.”
Sophia giggles. “OK, that’s not completely true. I was at the end of my shift. You were in good hands anyway. How’s your foot?”
The fact that she’s asking about my foot gives me some hope she’ll go out to dinner with me.
“Doctor said it’s a Jones fracture. I need to take it easy for a few weeks,” I say, like it’s nothing.
“Well, I’m glad it’s nothing more serious,” Sophia says.
“Me too, or we’d be up shit creek,” Chris jumps into the conversation.
“What do you mean by that?” Brenda asks.
“Leo and I play soccer for the Clearwater Rebels,” Chris tells them before I can stop him.
Sophia and Brenda look at each other and shrug.
“I think I heard we had a soccer team around here, but I guess I never paid much attention,” Sophia says with a wince.
I bump her shoulder with mine. “It’s OK. Soccer doesn’t appeal to everyone.”
But I hope I appeal to you, I silently say to myself.
“Do you two want to join us?” Brenda asks.
Shit. We shouldn’t leave the group we’re with but damn if I don’t want to stay here with Sophia.
“We’d love too,” Chris says to his new-found friend.
“Actually, we’re here with some other people.” I nod over to Miranda’s table.
“It’s fine, Leo,” Sophia says. “Thank you for your help with that guy and playing along with my lie.”
I laugh because she looks as if she just stole the Mona Lisa. “Hey, anytime you need a fake boyfriend, just give me a call.” I wink.
“Sophia needs a real man, not a fake one,” Brenda says, returning the wink.
That’s a little nugget of information I needed. Thanks, Brenda.
“God, Brenda, you make me sound desperate,” Sophia chides.
Words come tumbling from my mouth before I can stop them. “I don’t believe for one minute you couldn’t get any man in this club.”
Even though it’s dark in the club, I can see Sophia grow embarrassed. I’m sure her beautiful face is as red as a strawberry.
Hmmm, chocolate-covered strawberries…feeding them to her while we’re in bed. Damn. I need to get away from her, like, now.
“Well why don’t you give Sophia your number in case she needs a fake or real man in her life,” Chris says.
Brenda giggles as Sophia closes her eyes.
If she wasn’t embarrassed before, she certainly is now.
I’m going to kill him when we get out of here. Chris whispers something in Brenda’s ear, and she barks out a laugh.
Fucker.
“Hey, Cam, when are you coming back over? Miranda wants to do birthday shots,” Josh says as he walks over.
Sophia clears her throat. “You better get back over to your friend, Leo. Thanks again for your help.”
She holds out her hand. I stare at it, because what I really want to do is kiss the hell out of her.
But I don’t.
“It was nice seeing you again, Nurse Sophia,” I say with a platonic handshake.
Brenda and Chris make goo-goo eyes at each other but eventually say goodbye.
I need to get out of here, and quick.
Sophia
It’s been a month since I saw Leo in Club Electric. I’ve been back a few times, hoping to see him again, but he never came in, and I admit I’m disappointed.
Brenda says he was clearly flirting with me. I told her he was just being nice. She and I are at a stalemate.
She’s coming to have lunch with me today,
so I’m sure the topic of Leo will come up. I’m off from the hospital for a few days, so I’m spending them working at my parents’ deli.
“Hey, Papa,” I say as I walk in. It’s early, and the sun has just come up.
“Good morning, Bambina,” Papa says. He always calls me little girl, even at the age of twenty- seven.
“Where’s Mom?”
“She’s out back cutting the pasta.”
I watch my dad as he makes some espresso before I head back to the kitchen.
“Hi, Mom,” I say as I kiss her on her cheek.
“Good morning, Sophia,” my mom says in a sing-song way.
“What do you need help with this morning?”
“Can you cut up the pizza? It should be cooled enough by now.”
“Sure.”
My parents arrive at the deli every morning by five. Mom makes the pizza and pasta while Papa cooks the sausage, meatballs, sauce, and whatever the special is of the day. By the aroma, today is Pasta e Fagioli day.
I get busy cutting the pizza, then help my mom with the pasta.
Before too long, the line starts out front. My dad’s coffee and homemade biscotti are very popular with people on their way to work.
Around ten thirty, the morning rush begins to die down. I’ll have about a half hour before the lunch crowd begins to filter in. Brenda will be here sometime around two, but I can’t eat until the crowd dissipates.
Right on cue, at eleven o’clock on the dot, customers begin to filter in. My parents and I work quickly to serve the many people who come in for their takeout orders. We only have six tables set up inside, so most people eat at the picnic tables we have outside.
It’s almost one thirty when the last of the lunch rush leaves, which is perfect timing since Brenda will be here anytime.
My parents are cleaning up out back before they head home. Since they arrive so early, I stay late on the days I’m here. There will be a few stragglers coming in before I close up at three.
The bell on the door dings about thirty minutes later. Knowing Brenda will be starving, just as I am, I gather our lunch of antipasto salad meatballs and homemade bread pudding, our favorites, and head to the front.
A Love Like Nun Other: Book One in the Game Winner Duet Page 2
