The Exception by Lauren H. Mae
Thirteen
The gym was packed and Trav considered just running on the trail behind the hospital as usual. However, three days of torrential rain had probably turned it into a swamp, and mud runs were something he was glad to have left behind in the army.
He really needed this workout.His statistics class was giving him hell so he’d been up late studying, and between the unusually high number of sick calls and Nurse Pope’s shitty mood, it had been a day in more ways than one.
An image of Nurse Pope’s face when she’d admitted to her friend that her engagement had ended popped in his head and he decided to give her some grace about her mood. He couldn’t say he was heartbroken to hear she was single, but it had been awkward as hell being a bystander for that conversation so he couldn’t imagine what it had felt like for her. She’d allowed just a glimpse of how hurt she was before she’d slipped on that mask of professionalism she was so good at wearing, but he’d seen enough.
He scanned across the rows of treadmills, glad to see there was still one available and he moved to claim it, but stopped when he noticed who was warming up on the one right next door.
Huh. Turned out, he’d been right about Sonya being a runner. He refused to believe those legs that had the ability to hypnotize him were the result of anything else.
He felt like a creep, but he couldn't stop his eyes from raking across the sculpted curves that her skintight leggings and sports bra put on prime display.
Fuck.
He should just go. Running next to her was probably going to end up with him flying off the treadmill and breaking his neck because he couldn't stop looking at her. Retreating was definitely the better option.
He was about to go over to one of the ellipticals when he noticed a guy standing near the water bottle filling station. There was nothing particularly memorable about him except for the matching branded workout gear he wore and the expensive headphones hanging from his neck. But it was the way his eyes were trained on Sonya that grabbed Trav’s attention.
He couldn’t blame the guy, Sonya was definitely a sight to see and he could barely look away himself. But then the guy pulled his lower lip between his teeth and seemed to take a deep breath before heading straight for the empty treadmill next to her. Trav recognized a guy about to shoot his shot.
His body tensed as the guy moved closer to her, and even though Trav knew he should just mind his business and walk away, he just couldn’t. And when he traced the guy’s line of sight directly to Sonya’s sports bra, his face heated, the angry part of him that the army had pretty much beaten down came roaring back.
Trav’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. He was being ridiculous. Sonya was gorgeous and she probably got hit on all the time with or without the engagement ring she no longer wore. He didn’t know why the idea of this dude hitting on her had his stomach twisted into knots.
Who was he kidding? He knew why. He just wasn’t quite ready to admit it even to himself. He had no control over what happened when he wasn’t around, but some guy hitting on Sonya right in front of him? That shit wasn’t happening. Just the thought of that had him edgy like he was about to go out on a mission with his unit.
Trav pulled his hand through his hair, blew out a breath, and scrambled to climb onto the empty treadmill just as Sonya’s wannabe suitor reached the row. The guy stopped walking and frowned like his world had just been shattered. Trav responded with the biggest smile he could muster while giving him a short salute.
That's right, dude. I cockblocked you. Deal with it.
Sonya’s eyes widened when she noticed him, but at least he didn't get the scowl he would've gotten a few weeks ago.
She removed one earbud. “Stalking me now, intern?”
The tension drained out of him and he chuckled as he pressed a few buttons to get the machine going. “I usually run the trail but it’s probably all mud with all this rain.”
Her lips curved into a smirk. “I pegged you as the Spartan race type. I didn’t think a little thing like mud could stop you.”
He shrugged. “I guess I can take it easy every now and then.”
Her eyes narrowed, indicating that he'd said the wrong thing for at least the hundredth time.
“You think running on the treadmill is taking it easy?”
He was about to apologize but he saw a twinkle in her eye he'd never seen before and he wanted to see more of it. Was she challenging him? That idea had his heart speeding up more than his warm up had.
“You have to admit, it's not like running outdoors.”
She nodded and pulled her arm across her chest in a stretch. “Yeah. It's more structured. I know I'm getting the exact workout I want.”
That explanation was specific, reasonable, structured, and very Sonya.
He grinned and decided to needle her a little more. “But outdoors, you're fighting against the environment. It makes you more adaptable. I’ve run miles with a hundred pounds of gear strapped to me in the desert. Your treadmill workout can’t compare.”
Unfazed, she lifted one shoulder. “You don’t know my workout.”
Fuck, she was killing him. He fished around in his pocket for his earbuds, using it at a cover for adjusting himself before he embarrassed himself. That confidence alone had him ready to forget about her being his preceptor and shoot his shot, and the way she looked in those leggings was just a benefit.
He cleared his throat. “How about you program it in and we’ll see if I can keep up?”
The woman who loved to call him cocky did an awful job of hiding her it's on grin before leaning over and pressing a few buttons to get his machine programmed to match hers. He inhaled the sweet, tropical scent that lingered behind when she moved back to her own treadmill and popped her earbud back in.
“There's two more minutes of warm up," she said. "Good luck, soldier.”
* * *
When the treadmill went up to twelve percent incline at eight miles per hour for the third time, Trav started to have boot camp flashbacks, reaffirming that Nurse Pope would've made a hell of a drill instructor. His t-shirt was drenched with sweat and his quads were burning like he’d been running for hours. It had only been thirty-five minutes. He was making it, but pretending that the workout was no big deal took a lot of energy, adding to his exhaustion.
He glanced over at Sonya out of the corner of his eye. She was still running like she didn't have a care in the world and it made him respect the shit out of her even more than he already did. Her brown skin glistened with sweat but she didn't look even close to as worn out as he felt. Every now and then, he'd notice her smiling or mouthing the words to whatever song she was listening to. Once, he'd caught her moving her arms like she was dancing and he'd been so distracted by it that he'd almost face-planted off the machine.
The treadmill slowed and leveled out, allowing him to ease his stride.
Thank Christ. If Mike found out about this, he'd never let it go. Out of the army for less than six months and he was getting his ass kicked by a treadmill and by the woman running next to him.
Both of them slowed to a jog and then a walk, giving him time to get himself together and to gulp down his entire bottle of water in one go. Every muscle in his body screamed at him and maybe the water would shut them up.
“Well?” she asked. Her breathy voice went straight to his dick. He tried to focus on her face but her cocky, satisfied smile made the situation worse. He was no better than the dude from earlier. He just needed to focus on maintaining the illusion that the workout hadn’t gotten the best of him.
He took a deep breath and shrugged. “Not bad. It reminded me of boot camp.”
That smile grew bright enough to light up her whole face, and if he’d felt rundown a second ago, that smile was enough to recharge him.
“One of these days you'll figure out that I'm right about most things.”
He laughed loud enough that people working out around them stopped and looked.
“Maybe I've already figured it out and I just like messing with you,” he teased.
A flash of humor crossed her face as she dismounted the treadmill. “So you’re a glutton for punishment, is that it?”
“Nah. That’s you with that damn workout.”
She handed him a few paper towels and laughed like she couldn’t help herself. He’d never get tired of hearing that sound and he was already thinking of ways to tease another one out of her as they wiped down their machines.
She lifted her gym bag onto her shoulder and the movement sent an odd twinge of disappointment through him. Sure, they’d only worked out together but it was the most fun he’d had in a while. The thought of it ending made him a little desperate to keep it going. Maybe she'd want to grab a post-workout smoothie or something? She seemed like the type who would enjoy a disgusting green concoction while explaining to him all the reasons why it was healthy.
Would it be weird to ask his preceptor to join him for a drink?
Of course not. There was nothing wrong with trying to be “work friends” with Nurse Pope. Hell, maybe it would even help them work better together. Or maybe he’d crash and burn like he had with asshole Elliot. If he didn’t at least try, he’d keep having no one to hang out with.
Stop being a weirdo and ask her.
He sucked in a breath of courage and ran his hands through his hair a few times, that nervous tic back in full force.
“Do you—”
She glanced down at her phone and frowned. “I have to get home. See you at work tomorrow?”
Swallowing his disappointment, he gave her a short nod. “I'm gonna to sleep like a rock tonight, so thanks for pushing me.”
She nudged his shoulder with her own. “Isn’t that my job, intern?”
He grinned. “It is. Have a good night.”
“You too, Trav.”
* * *
Sonya rushed through her apartment door just as her cell phone started ringing again. She hated feeling like she was about to walk a tightrope every time her father’s face lit up her phone screen, but she never knew how their weekly conversation would go. That was one of the reasons she’d escaped the gym so fast. No one needed to overhear any of that.
She prayed he was having a good day and this wasn’t one of the calls that left her sad and exhausted.
She lifted the phone to her ear. “Hi, Dad. How are you?”
“Hey, baby. I’m doing okay.”
He sounded tired but present and Sonya released the breath she was holding.
“How’s your week been?”
“It’s hard, but it’s getting better every day.”
After years of denying reality and destroying most of his relationships, her dad had finally admitted he had a problem and called her for help a few months earlier. Sonya had immediately flown down to San Antonio to help him get enrolled in an inpatient program for PTSD, depression, and addiction at the Veterans Administration facility nearby.
She sat on the sofa and pulled out a pen and the notebook she was using to track her dad’s progress.
“You’ve been going to the group and individual sessions, right?”
“I haven’t missed one.”
“And your meds? You’re taking them like you’re supposed to?”
“I am. Can you please talk to me like I’m your father and not one of your patients?”
There was a smile in his voice and it made Sonya smile too. He had to remind her not to go all “Nurse Pope” during all of their calls. Even though they’d talked more in the last four months than they had in the last decade, she loved him and she wanted to see him get healthy.
She closed the notebook and tucked her legs under her. “I’ll try. How’s everything else? Did you sign up for that photography class you told me about?”
“I did. It starts next week. I always enjoyed taking pictures.”
That was true. Sonya remembered him following her around with a camera when she was a little girl and she was glad he was making an effort to find joy in those kinds of things again.
“Great! I can’t wait to see your photos.”
“You’ll want me to be your wedding photographer before it’s all over with. Speaking of which, you and Mario set a date yet?”
She laughed in spite of herself. This version of her dad was proof that everything he’d said about how well his treatment was going, was actually true.
“His name is Marcus, dad.”
Her dad snorted. “He’s the bozo who never thought to call and ask for your hand before proposing.”
It was an old fashioned tradition that Sonya hated but understood, and her dad hadn’t been able to hide his disappointment when she’d told him about the engagement. If she and Marcus had actually gone through with it, he’d forever be a bozo in her dad’s eyes.
The accuracy was amazing.
“Anyway… it doesn’t matter because we called off the wedding.”
“Oh, baby I’m sorry to hear that. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. It was for the best.” It was her canned response but the only one she could muster.
“You finally realized I was right about him being a bozo, huh?”
Sonya’s chuckle slipped out before she could catch it. “Dad...”
He laughed. “Okay, okay. I’m not gonna get all up in your business. As long as you’re good, I’m good. Besides, no wedding means I get more time to get right before I see your mama again.”
There was a short pause as Sonya waited for him to ask the question he asked every time they spoke. It was the only time regret crept into his tone.
“How’s your mama?”
“You know mom. She’s busy keeping everyone in line. You should call her. I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”
Truth is, her mom asked about him just as much as he asked about her. The divorce had been a result of her dad denying that he needed help, not because of any absence of love.
He sighed. “Nah, I’m not there yet. But tell her I asked about her.”
“I will.”
Her dad went quiet again and Sonya could picture him fiddling with the gold watch he always wore. It was a retirement gift from her mother and even when he’d lost nearly everything else, he’d held on to that watch.
He cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking more about moving back that way. I probably should’ve done it when you suggested it four months ago, but I couldn’t see that then.”
Sonya wanted to fist pump the air but she reminded herself to stay neutral. She didn’t want to be too excited and spook him into second-guessing this idea which would be the best thing for him.
“Yeah?”
“Dr. Ray thinks I need to stay put for now but she thinks it would be a good idea later on.”
The doctor’s opinion was right in line with Sonya’s reasoning for not wanting to make him travel for the wedding.
Even though her dad couldn’t see her, she nodded. “When you’re ready, I’ll do everything I can to help you get here. We would see each other more often.”
“I want that. I’ve got a lot of years to make up for.”
Sonya bit the inside of her cheek. She’d wanted her dad to get healthy ever since her parents divorced. It was the one thing she’d asked for in every prayer and birthday wish since he’d come home from Iraq different than when he’d left.
“I want that too, Dad. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
They spoke a little bit longer about trivial things, but Sonya’s mind was stuck on the possibility of her dad finally being her dad again. It was the first good news she’d had in days.