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Chapter 1
Sergio
Hurry,hurry,hurry.That’sall I can think of right now. Dammit, why didn’t I get here sooner? I fling my shirt over my head and pull over my red and green long sleeve jersey. I’ve got to get in the goal and stretch out before everyone else makes it to the field for warmups. Tonight’s game is going to be challenging, and this is not the way I wanted to start out the night. As a professional goalkeeper, playing for the team in Milan, Italy, I have to be focused, and right now, my brain is scattered all over the place. Procrastination has truly screwed me this time. My mother would be beating me over the head with her flip flop at my laziness. Thank God she lives far away in my home town in Brazil. I should have woken up from my nap when the first alarm went off, or even the second, but noooo, I waited until the third and finaloh shitalarm blasted to get my ass out of bed and up here.
As I push the door open, it's met with resistance on the other side, blocking it from opening fully.
“Hey, watch it!” a tall and slender brunette with her hair pulled back in a ponytail yells as she steps out from behind the door, which I apparently just hit her with. She’s wearing a red t-shirt with a white logo of some sort printed on the top right corner of her chest.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I reply, but it’s to no one because she is already jogging down the hall, continuing on her trek to get somewhere fast. Her backside is now ingrained in my head with her perfect round ass swaying in black jeans and her ponytail swinging from side to side as she runs off. At the end of the hall, I see her kneel in the middle of a group of people, and curiosity draws me to be nosey and walk by to see what she is doing.
Upon further inspection, she is caring for a lady who looks to have slipped and fell and is wrapping her ankle in a bandage. The large white cross logo with the words first aid below it on the back of her tee tells me she must be a medic of some kind.
The next two hours are pure hell. My focus is still not on the game, but now for a different reason other than just running late. I let two goals pass me in the first half, and my coach was up my ass wanting to know what the hell had gotten into me. Luckily, I halfway pull my head out and block the rest of the shots in the second half. I’ve never before been so distracted in the goal, and I’ve played this sport since I was four years old. That perfect backside, swishing ponytail, and her tender care towards that lady flashed through my mind the entire ninety minutes of the game.
I have to stop my thoughts when I’m in the shower, as I clean up after the game, before I embarrass myself by sporting a hard on and either walking around with it standing tall and proud or having to relieve myself in front of everyone. Which is a hell no.
That’s it.
I need more of that woman. Her uniform shirt said first aid, so I’m going to go upstairs to the mezzanine and see where the first aid station is. With my mind made up, I hurry through the shower and dress.
“Hey, Sergio, you going to go with us tonight to eat after the game?” my teammate, Luca, hollers at me from across the dressing room.
“Fat chance. Why do you and Blaze insist on me being the fifth wheel? You guys have your women, now go and have a lovely night cuddling up next to them,” my reply is sharp and to the point because those two always ask me to join them, but my answer is the same each time. I know they are just trying to be nice, and I appreciate it, but I really don’t want to be the odd man out in their little happy family life group.
“Alright, man. Just know you are welcome anytime.” Blaze comes up behind me and claps me on the shoulder.
“I know. Thanks, guys. Have a good one. I’m out.”
I throw my backpack over my shoulder and head out on a mission to find the girl who's been racking my brain.
Chapter 2
Nastasia
“Knock,knock,”adeephusky voice calls from the doorway at the same time he raps on the door.
“Hello. Can I help you?” Holy hotness! This guy is all that and a bag of chips with those mocha color eyes that I could definitely get lost in for hours, and that thick black hair that looks like it would be just the right length to skim my fingers through. Hot damn! Okay, get a grip. I’ve got a job to do. Someone is probably hurt and in need of my attention.
“I’m the guy who accidentally rammed the door in your face earlier today, and I wanted to say I was sorry. You rushed off so fast; I wasn’t able to do so when it happened. My name is Sergio, by the way.”
“Oh, that’s nice of you, and it’s nice to meet you. I’m Nastasia. Yeah, I was in a hurry to check on the lady who slipped and twisted her ankle. Thanks for stopping by. Have a good night,” I say the final bit to hopefully close up the conversation, so he’ll leave. I still need to finish cleaning up from the busy night of spectators with their drunken falls, heat exhaustion, and twisted ankles or knees from the stairs.
“Well, Nastasia, I was wondering if I can take you out sometime.”
“Thanks for the offer, but no thank you.”
“Wow, that was a fast, hard shut down right off the bat. You sure know how to kill a man’s ego,” he responds with a chuckle.
“Sorry, but I don’t have time to date. I work pretty much non-stop around the clock.” I busy myself with folding up a blue blanket, hoping he will get the hint to turn and walk away. My willpower to vocally tell this guy to leave is very frail, and I don’t know if I can turn his offer down, again, even though I should. I seriously do not have time with my work schedule.
"Have you eaten dinner tonight?"
"No."
"You’ve got to eat, right? Come on, I'll buy you dinner.” The last few strands of my resolve are wavering.
“I don’t know. I normally either wait until I get home or grab a quick sandwich to eat on the train,” I reply with the mistake of glancing at him over my shoulder when I put the blanket in the cabinet.
