So with a string of muttered expletives, I found my crutches, managed to stand up, and limped to my bedroom to do as I’d been instructed. I’d play nice. I’d be obedient, and I wouldn’t give Juliet any trouble.
For now.
* * *
“Now, was that so bad?”Juliet beamed at me as we stood on my front porch. She was allowing me to unlock the door, even though I knew damn well she still had the key Zeke had given her. Fucking Zeke. Talk about betrayal. What the hell had he been thinking?
“It was brutal,” I answered her flatly. “I’m in agony. That therapist is a sadist. She gets a kick out of making me hurt.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it. How long have you been playing football, Noah?” She posed the question just as I opened the door, and though I wanted to slam it in her pretty, heart-shaped face, I had enough of the manners my mother had drilled into me to refrain.
“A long time.” I tossed my keys into a bowl on the front table. “Since I was a kid. Six years old.”
“Uh-huh. I thought so. And has it been all sunshine and roses, buddy? Or was there a lot of pain along the way? Practice, conditioning. Running sprints. Building muscles and endurance. Not to mention hits on the field.”
“Yeah, but that pain had a purpose. It went toward making me the best damn football player possible. I didn’t love it, but I knew it was necessary. It had to be done. Now—this?” I pointed to my knee. “What’s the point? All of the doctors and Coach have been crystal clear. I’m not ever going to suit up again. I’m not going to play the game. It’s over. So why bother? Why not just give myself a break?”
“Does that break include lying around and becoming a fat, slovenly drunk?” she inquired sweetly. “Because it seems to me that’s the way you’re heading now.” She pointed toward the kitchen. “Go sit down. I prepped your lunch before we left for the clinic, and I’ll get you set up before I head back to work.”
“I don’t need you babying me, Juliet.” Still, I did as I was told and thumped over to the table, which I noticed had been wiped off since I’d been here last. A gingham placemat that I recognized as a wedding gift was laid out along with a napkin and a fork. A small vase filled with wildflowers was in the center of the table.
“When did you do this?” I demanded.
“While you were showering. I intended it to brighten up your breakfast, but because you were so pokey and I had to bring your eggs and toast into your bedroom so you could eat while you were getting dressed, you didn’t get to enjoy my creativity until now.”
She was a fucking witch. That was the only explanation. Otherwise, how the hell did she manage to get shit done in a quarter of the time it would take a normal mere mortal?
I dropped heavily in the chair, grunting, and let my crutches fall to the floor next to me. “Okay. So bring on this lunch you’re so hot for me to eat.”
Julie rolled her eyes. “Your graciousness overwhelms me. Hold on a moment, I might swoon from the joy it brings me.” She paused. “Nope, not today.”
With a smirk in my direction, she hustled to the fridge and pulled out a large plate covered in foil. I had to admit, my mouth was watering and my stomach growling. I hadn’t had as much exertion today since well before I’d had the fateful surgery, and my body was reminding me that I really liked food.
When Juliet set down the plate and pulled off the foil with a flourish, though, I groaned. I’d been hoping for something I could sink my teeth into—a burger, maybe, or even a nice, juicy steak. Baked potato on the side, with sour cream and melty butter. Hell, I’d even settle for crispy fries.
But what I got was a plate full of lettuce greens, sliced tomatoes, and pinwheels of lunch meat.
“What the actual hell is this?” I pounded my fist against the table. “This is rabbit food. I need meat.”
“You need protein,” Juliet corrected. “And roughage. That salad was the best I could do. You’re lucky I thought ahead and brought some of my own ingredients, because you had jack squat in your fridge when it comes to real food.” She pointed to the plate. “There’s longevity spinach in there—and Okinawa spinach, too. Both are super high in protein and other things like iron . . . the lunch meat was what you had here. It wasn’t expired, but it probably tasted better a couple of days ago. Anyway, next time I come, I’ll bring some better ingredients and make you something different.”
“Who says you’re coming back?” I asked, hating my own rudeness even as I spoke. “I don’t need your pity, Juliet.”
“That’s good, because you don’t have it,” she shot back. “In case you forgot, Noah, I’m the team nutritionist. This is my job.”
“But I’m not part of the team anymore,” I countered. “So take me off your worry list. I’ll take care of myself.”
“I doubt it. Anyway, you are still technically part of the team. They haven’t made the announcement yet about your retirement, and I get the feeling from Coach Briars and Carl that they don’t plan to do it until after the season ends. So meanwhile, I’m still your nutritional consultant, same as I am for all the guys.” She pulled out the chair next to me and sat down. “Plus, I’m your friend. When I moved here, you were sweet to me, and you helped me find my house, and you pointed me in the right direction for a lot of important decisions . . . so think of this as me returning the favor.”
My lip curled. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“Maybe not, but I’m doing it. And you can’t stop me.” She smiled and winked. “Unless you’d like your mother to join us and help me feed you. She’d be more than happy to come down and give me a hand.”
I glared at her. “At some point, the mom card isn’t going to be so effective. What if I call your bluff and say, fine, go ahead and call my mother?”
“Then I’ll do it. I told you, I had a grand time with your mom. I’d love to have her down here again. I bet we’d have a blast, cooking together in your kitchen, working out in your yard, reorganizing and tidying your house . . .” Juliet tapped one finger against her chin. “We’d make perfect partners in crime.”
“Fine.” I spit out the word. Picking up the fork, I stabbed it into the salad and took a bite, chewing as if it was an act of revenge.
