Risking the Crown (The Crown 2)

“Yeah. I’m good.” I tried to retrieve my leg, but part of me didn’t want to. I liked the long delicate fingers exploring my skin. When had we added her to our team?

“No, he’s not.” She pressed her lips together. “I think he has a tear, but I’m not completely sure.”

“You shouldn’t examine him.” Eric glared at her.

I looked at both of them. What was going on? There was an icy stare between them. And then I saw her logo. She was with Team Italy. What the fuck?

This time I was sure I saw another streak of lighting over the arena seats. Everyone jumped with the clap of thunder.

The official blew his whistle and jumped from his seated perch by the net.

“Match! Out! Out!”

Eric ran over to talk to him. Apparently there was some kind of dispute about what to do during lightning situations.

The girl began to rise to her feet.

“Wait.” I grabbed her wrist. “What do you think it is?”

She knelt next to me. “Your coach doesn’t want me to talk to you.”

“I don’t really give a shit. I want to know what you think.”

She bit her lower lip and inhaled. “Well, on the spot without a full exam, I would say you may have done something to your meniscus. But I don’t know your injury history, and I don’t know your body.”

My eyes flared. There was a way to remedy that. I could make this easy for her.

There was panic all around us. Fans were scrambling to get off the aluminum bleachers and the rain was like something out of a hurricane.

“Bella?” The two Italians stood next to the bench waiting for her.

If I was going to get my full physical exam, I needed to act quickly.

“I’m Pierce.” I smiled. “I didn’t get your name.”

“It’s Sierra.” She stood, then helped me to my feet, watching my knee the entire time.

“If a guy wanted an Italian point of view on his meniscus where would he go to get that done?”

“You can’t be serious. You heard Eric. I work for Team Italy.”

“You seem pretty American to me.”

By now I had stood to my full height. I towered over her.

“I am American, but I don’t work for your team. I don’t think I can help you. I know you have a trainer.” She was busy packing her supplies into an Italian bag.

“I do, but he’s not as gorgeous as you are. Actually, Larry needs a full makeover.” I laughed.

“I can’t.” She shook her head. “You better get inside and have someone take a look at that. You’re going to need ice and compression. Oh, and elevation. Definitely elevate it.”

“See? You do want to help,” I pressed.

She threw her bag over her shoulder, trying to get out of the rain. “I can’t help. It wouldn’t be right.”

Eric and Scott were busy talking to the officials. I heard some kind of a squabble over when we would finish the match. The to

urnament was tightly scheduled. We couldn’t push the other countries’ matches back today if the storm let up. We might have to play back-to-back tomorrow.