Page 14 of Scoring Chance

“Amelia! There you are. We have a cake for you.” We both turned to see Madi walking toward us. “Hey, Derrek. What are you guys doing out here?” She raised her eyebrow suggestively, and I wanted to run.

Amelia was blushing and jumped to her feet. “We were just talking.” She glanced back at me and waved before hurrying inside.

Madi gave me a knowing smile and followed behind her. Once the door was shut, I let out a groan. Of course, the first woman I met that actually got to know me for me and I felt a connection with had to be a part of the Pride. It was only a matter of time before they turned her against me.

I stood up as a wave of panic washed over me. I just shared my deepest thoughts and fears with a stranger. Someone close to the Pride and Nikolay and soon the rest of the team. Would she tell them what I said? I couldn’t imagine the torment they would put me through if they knew. I rubbed my face and picked up my plate. I needed to leave before things blew up in my face.

6

Amelia

I was really beginning to like my job. It had only been three days, but it was so much better than the clinic at school and the internships I’d done. Once Madi walked me through how to set up a machine or wrap an injury, she let me do it on my own. No one watched over my shoulder. There wasn’t anyone taking notes or breathing down my neck. I got to use what I’d learned and put it to practice.

It didn’t hurt that the basketball team was my first group of clients. I was in charge of getting six of them through a basic exam. They’d been injured within the last six months and their coaches wanted them to get checked out as they geared up for the second half of the season and playoffs. Some of them wanted massages or electric stimulation to loosen up the injured area, but all of them wanted a clean bill of health.

“I don’t recognize you.” My second client watched me closely as I placed monitors on his chest before I started the treadmill. He was an attractive man with dark skin, hair trimmed short, and an easy smile. I knew he was one of the stars of the team, but I pushed that out of my mind. Every single one of these guys was famous, rich, and handsome, but right now they were my patients. Nothing more. Back in school, I treated most of the football, volleyball, and baseball players. I learned quickly if I wanted to get my job done I had to ignore who they were and focus on what they needed me to do.

“I’m new here. This is my first week.” I glanced up at him as I hovered over the start button making sure he was ready. He gave a single nod, and I started the test.

“Where did you come from?” He was just starting to jog, but his voice remained level.

“Houston.” I watched his form, focusing on his left knee. He tore his ACL back in October but he didn’t seem to be favoring at all.

“But you’re not still a fan, right?”

I chuckled and increased the speed. “No, I’m a Utah fan through and through.”

He laughed, gaining the attention of those around us. Despite the fact he was in a full-out run, his breathing was under control and he didn’t seem fazed. His stride never wavered, and I made a note before slowing him down to a walk.

“How are you feeling?”

“Knee’s great.”

“No soreness or mobility issues?”

He shook his head, doing deep lunges as the treadmill moved forward at a slow pace. “I’m feeling good.”

I stopped the machine and marked his chart. “Good to hear. Do you want to see one of the massage therapists?”

“Nah, I’m fine. Does this mean I’m cleared?”

I walked him back toward the lobby so I could grab his teammate. “Yeah, you’re good to go. I’ll send this over to your coach later.”

He offered his hand. “Thanks.”

I shook it as I smiled. “No problem.”

He walked through the doors, and I glanced around for my next client. “James?”

Another giant of a man made his way toward me. “That’s me.”

He gave me a dimpled smile, and I could feel my cheeks heat. I returned his smile, then read his chart. He injured his wrist in September, and his coach was worried it affected his range of motion.

“I’m Amelia. Let’s take a look at your wrist.” I led him to two chairs with a small table between them. “Go ahead and take a seat.”

He sat across from me and laid his right wrist on the table.

“Is this your dominant hand?” I asked as I lifted it and put my palm against his so it looked like we were high-fiving and pushed gently to see how far back it could move.