No Strings Attached (18+)

Chapter 2

"So, professional cheerleader?" We crossed the parking lot toward the road, taking advantage of a momentary break in the rain.

I nodded, kicking a loose piece of gravel with the toe of my sneaker.

"How's that happen?"

Shrugging, I answered, "If you do it my way, you cheer at a competitive high school, go through college on a cheerleading scholarship, and then you try out for a pro position on a whim because, why not-"

"Why not?" Amusement was written across his features.

Meeting his eyes, I explained, "Cheerleading's the kind of profession that has an expiration date. If you're going to do it, sooner is better than later."

"So, what's your plan for after?"

"Accounting," I answered.

Nick stopped, staring at me like I'd sprouted an extra head, "Accounting?"

I grinned, "Yeah. You need a Master's degree to be a CPA, so I'm chipping away at that a couple credits at a time."

"I- I'm trying to think of something that would have surprised me more, but I'm stumped."

"Mortuary science?" I suggested, beginning to walk again.

"What?"

"Mortuary science," I repeated. "The captain of my high school football team became a mortician," I explained, continuing forward, "Nobody saw that coming."

We reached the road, pausing to check for nonexistent traffic before hurrying across.

Thunder cracked overhead as we reached the door, bell ringing while we rushed inside.

At the counter, a bored looking woman asked, "Just the two of you?"

I nodded.

"Table or booth?"

"Booth," we answered in unison.

Plucking two menus off of the stack, she led us to the back corner of the deserted dining room.

"Can I get y'all anything to drink?"

Sighing, I flipped the menu over, "I want to say 'coffee', but I also need sleep."

"We got decaf?" She offered.

Looking up at her, I nodded, "I'll take that, please."

"Cream? Sugar?"

I shook my head, "I like it black."

Nick spoke, "I'll have the same."

"Do you need some time with the menus?"

Picking up the menu, I handed it to her, "I'll have a cheeseburger, all of the trimmings, with fries."

The team dietitian wouldn't approve, but right now I couldn't give a fuck.

"Same, please." Smiling, Nick passed over his menu.

As she walked away, I was left alone with my mystery savior.

"So," I began, "what's your story?"

He shrugged, "Don't have much of one."

"Okay, well, what do you do?"

Looking away, he answered, "I'm... semi retired."

"Semi retired?"

"I don't have a nine-to-five job anymore, but I'm not completely done with work."