Page 34 of Bad Boy Neighbor

With my purse in hand, I grab my car keys and head off to the mall. If I have to wear a bikini, assuming the date involves water, I will do so in style.

Then it dawns on me I have used the word ‘date’ in my mind several times. Each time I think about it, guilt rears its ugly head. It becomes a vicious cycle, and one I have no idea how to break. But then I think about my conversation with Nicholas, how cold and distant he felt.

And our pact to have a break.

We both agreed one month apart.

I’m not breaking the rules.

I will have a little fun.

Fun never hurt anyone. Unless, of course, you’re starting to fall for the one man you can’t stop thinking about.

Your neighbor.

Eleven

Oliver

The text message illuminates my screen, bringing a smile to my lips.

Gabriella

Did I look perfect when I was puking like an exorcist the night we met?

Me

Your legs did in those sexy heels you were wearing.

Gabriella

This conversation is officially over. See you tonight, neighbor.

I had all day to kill, desperately watching the time until I could pick Gabriella up.

Each minute passed slowly and painfully, a gentle reminder of how, for the first time in my life, something else has stolen my focus besides soccer.

After a long shower trying to cure the ache down below which only got worse after our run, I see her text on my phone screen, again. She begged me to tell her why the bikini, but I left her hanging.

It’s typical of Gabriella to be so curious and impatient, something I have learned about her over the past few days. The more time I spend with her, the more she begins to unravel.

Seb knows I’m anxious, and despite our earlier run, he suggests we go train and hit the gym afterward.

We grab a ball and hit a nearby field where we practice shots. Neither one of us is fit to play professionally anymore, but it doesn’t mean it leaves your blood. Soccer is instilled in me. You live it, you breathe it, and without it, the struggle can easily become life-threatening.

“I keep telling you, mate, we could use a trainer like you. You’re as disciplined as you can get, which would be very beneficial to some of those kids.”

Seb has been working with some kids on scholarships at UCLA. Between coaching, toying around with recycled art, plus also being a father, he seems content, a far cry from where I am in my life.

I’ve been offered other opportunities, similar to Seb, but he’s a born teacher and has patience for kids. For him, there was no changing the fact that his torn ACL hindered his professional capabilities. It took him a lot of soul searching, plus reuniting with Lana and starting a family, to realize all hope was not lost. He still follows his passion, just in a different lane.

The yearn to play is still fresh inside me. It consumes me when I wake, follows me throughout the day, and when I lay in bed each night, I imagine being back on the field, the roaring crowd surrounding me, the ball at my feet.

Ma and Pa always ingrained the importance of fighting until the very end, Pa especially. When he was a teen, he was this close to playing professional football. But a small injury and a father who pushed him into the farming business saw him give up his dream.

From a very early age, he encouraged me to follow what my heart yearned for. He told me he would support and me all the tools I needed, and not once has he ever not stayed true to his word.

My parents often called me stubborn and arrogant, but I knew I was born to play soccer. I just needed to find a way to repair the damage to my body, so I could get the all-clear to play again.

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