She pressed her thumb along the inner ridge of my leg and I bit the inside of my lip to keep from howling out loud. I didn’t want this beautiful girl to know I was about to start crying.
“Yeah.” I nodded.
The game had stopped and by now the rest of the teams had moved to the side court to see what had happened. The thunder boomed overhead and I swore I saw a crackle of lightning, but I wasn’t sure any of this was real. Who in the hell was this girl?
“Shit, Pierce.” Eric stooped to the sand. “You ok?”
“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.