Page 43 of Force Play

“I’m going to go nice and slow for you, okay? You tell me if it’s too much.”

Her breath hitches against the heated curve of my neck before she nuzzles in closer, her lips brushing my neck from the position the helmet she’s still wearing is forcing her into.

“I can take it.”

“Don’t I know it.” I mumble, adjusting my hold on her.

“Stop,” she groans, but I can feel her cheeks swell with a smile from where she’s pressed against me.

The walk back to the truck is slow and my hand aches from having to hold Indie and steer the bike with one hand. Both Indie and I are covered in sweat from the blistering sun when we get back to the truck.

Opening the tailgate, I lower her to it, helping her lift her leg so it’s not dangling off the back. For the first time since I found her on the trail, I get a good look at her. My knuckles graze her jaw as I unbuckle her helmet. Turning it over in my hands I look at the damage.

“You hit your head.” There are jagged edges where her visor snapped. My teeth grind together, frustrated with myself, I should have checked that before moving her. Taking a spot on the tailgate next to her, my fingers comb through the damp hair stuck to her forehead and run my thumb over her temples. “I’m taking you to the stadium with me.”

“What? No. That is not the plan.” She tries to pull away from my touch.

“So damn stubborn. If you’re not coming with me, then I’m going with you to the hospital. Coach will probably be pissed. I’ll definitely get a fine . . .”

With a dramatic flare I would expect from me, not her, she throws her head back in exasperation. “And I’m the stubborn one?”

“You’re right, we both are, but you owe me—your knight in shining armor—because I came to your rescue.” Gently I brush some dirt from her shoulder making her bite her lip when it reveals another injury, this one a deep scrape.

“Jesus woman. What were you trying to do?”

“It was the squirrel, not me.” Her head drops into her hands.

“Yeah, you’re definitely getting checked out. A squirrel didn’t do this to you. Maybe we should go straight to the ER, have them do a full workup.”

“If I come with you, that’s it, you used your one chance to hold this over me.”

“Hmmm. Sounds reasonable, but I have some other demands.” My eyes drag over every inch of her making sure there aren’t more injuries I’m missing, but she’s a mess, so it’s hard to say.

“Not surprised at all,” she deadpans. At least her spunk is intact.

“You’ll let the trainer check you out. And you’ll stay until the game is over.”

“Then you’ll bring me home and this will all be over?”

“Not a chance. We need to see what the trainer says first. You’ll do whatever he recommends, even if that means you need help to do it.”

Coach gives me a look that I know means I’m going to have some questions to answer, but doesn’t stop me when a hobbling Indie joins me in the locker room.

“Nuts and butts away. There’s a lady coming in,” I announce as I help Indie through the door. With her pressed to my side, my arm around her waist, I can feel the groan. But it’s not pain, it’s annoyance.

Indies eyes go wide with panic. “Not ready to face the music?” I guess.

“Not really.” She scans the room, her relief palpable when she doesn’t spot any of my teammates.

Thankfully, the training room is near the entrance of the locker room, set away from where we dress, and we’re early enough that we don’t see any of the guys. “Hey, Grant, give me a hand,” I say to our trainer as I lift Indie onto the exam table.

“Great, twice in one day,” she mumbles.

“What was that?”

“Oh, just my dignity being left on an exam table for the second time today.”

“What’s going on Dom?” Grant asks, drying his hand as he walks over and stopping me from being able to ask Indie what she means. “Oh, ouch that looks painful,” he comments, placing a gentle hand on Indie’s outstretched foot.

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