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I bit my lip. “I don’t know. You can play through anything I guess depending on your pain tolerance, but it doesn’t mean I would recommend it. You really need a full assessment before you make a decision like that. Your team needs to advise you. Not me. I don’t want that responsibility.”
“What would you tell your guys?” he asked.
My shoulders slumped. “My guys don’t listen, so it doesn’t matter what I tell them.” I looked away.
“Tell me what you think I should do.”
I wasn’t expecting his fingers to grip my wrist. They were firm and strong. I felt a spark tingle along my spine.
“I-I would tell you to stay off it as long as you can and keep this therapy routine going.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do.”
He leaned back on the bed, closing his eyes.
“You can’t stay here,” I warned. He looked as if he were settled in for the night.
“Why not? It’s where the treatment is.”
“I am not your trainer,” I reminded him. “I’ve given you my advice and I’ll do one round, but after that you have to go.”
He didn’t bother to open his eyes. “I’m pretty comfortable here, bella.”
My ears perked. “What did you just call me?”
“Bella. Isn’t that what your team calls you?”
They did, but it always felt as if they were teasing me with some kind of inside joke. When Pierce said it, it sounded sexy.
“Yes, but you’re not Italian.”
“Maybe for tonight I am.”
And that’s when I knew Pierce Miller was going to be trouble.
Chapter Five
Pierce
Shit. I was hard just thinking about it. I didn’t care if my knee hurt, or if my leg couldn’t move at all. I was in her bed, and I had a full night of treatment ahead of me from this sexy as hell woman. Most men would be thinking about the match tomorrow. Me—I was thinking about how I was going to make this night more monumental than it already was.
The sexual tension between us was a ten. And I fucking loved it.
“Has it been twenty minutes yet?” I asked. I couldn’t wait for her hands to land on me again.
I’d never seen a trainer like her before. I usually was treated by middle-aged men with belly paunches and receding hairlines. I wanted to know how the Italians snagged her and not the US team.
“Not yet.” She checked her watch.
“Why aren’t you working for us?”
“Excuse me?”
I put it out there. It didn’t make sense. She clearly knew her shit. And she was hot as fuck. Why hadn’t we hired her? How did we let someone like this slip off our radar?
“How did you end up working for another country? Why aren’t you helping the US win?”
Her shoulders stiffened immediately and there was a new tightness in her jaw. Obviously I had struck a nerve.
