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milling teammates, and hunkered down beside her and Teryl.
    She stared up at him with dazed blue eyes. “Hey,” she said.
    “Hey yourself. You okay?” He studied her face as the trainer ran his hands over her ribs and stomach, glad she didn't give any indication of pain.
    “Yeah. She rang my bell pretty good, though,” she admitted shakily.
    “She lost consciousness for a few seconds,” the trainer told him, “but since she refused to have an ambulance called, she should go to the hospital for an exam.”
    “I'm fine,” she protested, her speech slurred from her swollen, bleeding lip. She smiled sheepishly up at Rayne. “At least she was out. It always hurts less if they're out.”
    “Oh, shut up,” Teryl snapped, helping to undo Christa's shin pads and cleats. “Only you would talk like that when you're lying there all smashed to hell.”
    Christa winced. “She just knocked the wind out of me.”
    “Whatever,” Teryl huffed, then regarded him. “I think we should take her to the hospital, just in case.”
    “Sure.” He looked Christa in the eye, fighting that tug of awareness in his belly. “You okay for me to carry you?”
    “I can walk— ”
    “You can't,” Teryl interrupted and shot him a glower. “Hutch, this is vintage Christa you're witnessing. ‘No no, just because I got knocked unconscious, don't worry about me. I'll just crawl off somewhere by myself to pass out so I don't bother anyone.'” She angled a fulminating glare at her best friend and stuffed the last of her gear into her bag. “C'mon, tough girl, let's go.”
    “I'm fine, really,” Christa insisted.
    Rayne reached to scoop her up in his arms and felt her stiffen. He tightened his hold, a primitive part of him thrilling at the curl of her warm body against him.
    She wrapped her arms around his neck and hung there, rigid. “I'm not exactly a light weight,” she mumbled.
    He smiled down at her dirt-streaked face, started for the parking lot. “To me you are,” he said simply.
    He moved quickly, Teryl dogging his steps and peppering questions at Christa: “Are you sure you didn't break anything? Are you seeing double? Are you nauseated?”
    “No, but you aren't helping my headache.”
    Teryl narrowed her eyes at her but fell silent until they rounded the outer fence. “Oh, and the hits just keep on coming,” she remarked as they came face to face with Christa's obsessed fan. He catalogued the facial features. Medium height and build, dark blond hair, clean cut. A regular enough kind of guy on the surface, but those were often the ones you had to be wary of.
    He caught sight of them, his eyes all for Christa, but when he saw Rayne carrying her he went still. His face crumpled and he seemed to take a moment to collect himself. “Are you all right, Christa?” he asked, trailing after them.
    She tensed and pressed tighter to Rayne, and he gathered her closer against his chest. “I'm fine, thank you,” she called out, keeping her eyes downcast. Why couldn't the guy take a hint? Rayne wondered. She wasn't interested. End of story.
    But the stalker stood there as they loaded Christa into her truck. “Is she going to the hospital? Because I can come up there and— ” He took a step back when Rayne closed her door and leveled his gaze right at him. He made sure it was a possessive look, one that warned him to back off and leave her the hell alone.
    Rayne stared the guy down, hoping he wouldn't have to get physical to get his point across. “She's fine,” was all he said, and rounded the cab to slide into the driver's seat. He started the engine and pulled out of the parking space without looking back.

    * * * *

    A few minutes before midnight they pulled into her driveway with Christa slumped in the passenger seat. She would have driven herself home if the dizziness hadn't made it impossible.
    Rayne surveyed her. “I'll come in while you get settled, okay? I could even stay and wake you every hour like they said at the