Page 70 of Last Line of Defense

I feel a shiver of heat run through my body from head to toe. Clara plants a quick peck on my lips and takes a step back, locking eyes with me.

“Don’t be late.”

She winks at me with total complicity and turns around, heading for the gym exit and leaving a powerful energy hanging in the air.

As soon as she walks through the door, I hear a suggestive whistle behind me, followed by another and a chorus of laughter and stifled applause. I sit up slowly on the treatment table, trying to salvage what’s left of my dignity.

A couple of teammates approach me along with Alba, who’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Damn, you’ve got some serious guts,” Alba says, giving me an affectionate pat on the shoulder. “I’m so happy for both of you—it’s about time.”

The left winger adds in her typical playful tone:

“Well, after this high, you’ve got to score at least a hat trick on Sunday. You certainly aren’t lacking in motivation.”

Iván shakes his head, jotting down a few notes on his tablet without losing his smile.

“Come on, ladies, move along and let me work—this feels like an episode of a soap opera. Although I’ll admit it’s been the best part of my workday in years.”

I lie back down on the treatment table with a goofy grin plastered on my face, but my mind is already wandering far away from the sports complex. It’s at Clara’s apartment, imagining the conversation that awaits us, the kisses we’re going to share, and the wild way we’re going to make love after such a long wait.

27

The Last Refuge

Clara

I’ve left the living room lamp on with the light dimmed—just enough to create an intimate, cozy atmosphere without making this feel like a police interrogation. Outside, the rain continues to lash against the windows, providing a background murmur that’s perfect for slowing the pace of my thoughts while I wait for her.

It hasn’t even been two hours since I left the sports complex, and my legs are still shaking just thinking about it. I’ve crossed the line—there’s no turning back now—and for the first time in my whole damn life, I’m not afraid in the slightest. I just feel a happiness that makes my chest swell.

The rumble of the elevator tells me that Alicia is already here. Seconds later, I hear a few timid knocks on the wood. When I open the door, there she is; her hair is dripping wet, her cheeks are flushed, and she’s wearing that mischievous little smile that sends shivers down my spine in an instant. She’s wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, as if she’d run straight out of the locker room without a care in the world about her appearance.

“Hi…”

“Come on in,” I say, stepping aside as I close the umbrella she’s holding. “My goodness, you’re soaked.”

I close the door behind her, and we stand there in the entryway, staring at each other as if we’re processing the tsunami of events from the last few hours. The tension that’s built up over the past few days hangs thick and electric in the air. I take a step forward, closing the distance between us, and gently brush aside a damp strand of hair stuck to her forehead.

“Clara…” she begins in a hoarse voice, but I don’t let her continue.

I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her toward me in the kind of embrace that puts your thoughts back in order. Her arms wrap around my neck in a split second, holding me tight with wild intensity, as if she’s afraid I’ll vanish into thin air. I rest my chin on the top of her head and take a deep breath, intoxicated by her scent.

“I swear I’ve never felt so alive in my entire life,” I confess, burying my lips in her hair. “You can’t imagine how much I enjoyed seeing the look on their faces when I kissed you.”

“Well, the best part came after you left. You missed the third act of the drama,” she remarks, pulling back just enough to meet my gaze with a twinkle of mischief.

“Oh, really? Have the critics already started bashing it?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Not at all.” Alicia slides her hands down my arms, sending shivers down my spine as they pass. “But I think it’s become clear to the club and the higher-ups that there are some things you can’t buy, not even with all the money in the world.”

I take her hand, intertwining our fingers, and guide her toward the living room. We sink onto the couch—that blessed piece of furniture that has witnessed us giving ourselves to each other and where I’ve spent the last few nights thinking about her.

“Reading what you said in the press was like getting slapped in the face with reality,” I admit, stroking the back of her hand with my thumb. “You forced me to imagine my life without you. I was scared out of my mind, but the truth is, I was denying myself my own happiness. And look, I’m not going down that road anymore.”

Alicia lowers her head for a moment, taking in my words as she traces concentric circles on my skin.

“I didn’t want you to give up your career because of me, Clara,” she says, looking up to give me a tender smile. “But I understand that, in this damn world—designed by and for men—the moment a woman stands out or steps out of line, they come down on her with a vengeance. You’d already suffered enough for putting your faith in the wrong person, and I know what it’s like to wait for someone to stand up for you. I wasn’t going to let you go through the same thing you went through in the past.”