pictures at the bottom of the box wrapped in tissue paper.
“Coño,” she said, unfolding the paper, sifting through one picture after another, all of her and Ryder together: on the field, alone in the back of his truck, his arm around her, his mouth on her temple. They’d had a life together once, a life no one should have ever discovered. They had gone a decade living apart from each other, keeping years and distance and anger between them.
Gia had done the same, but it hadn’t been her choice. If Cat was to be believed, her manager had loved Luka Hale. She’d loved him so much that she’d gone on without him, willingly keeping the void he left behind open and expansive.
Reese had done the same. The difference was, her unrequited was alive. He was real, and as Reese looked over the pictures—the couple in them in love and happy and ready to take on the world—she realized she didn’t want her void to remain empty, but the only one who could fill it was off limits. He couldn’t be hers.
17.
RYDER
Game seventeen, wildcard
15:2
HE HADN’T SEEN her close up. Not since New England. Not since the date she had with Murry got splashed all over the damn place. Cat informed Ryder that Reese had been busy, working out with a few girls from her fan club when they weren’t slammed with practices. He’d seen her at the Lil Steamers camp, working hard with her team, but not at Ryder’s side anymore now that the teams were gearing up for the tournament coming in a couple months.
Though he knew it was stupid, he hadn’t wanted to talk to her, despite his promise that he’d try to be her friend. Despite Coach’s lecture about being her captain. Despite how she seemed to worry and obsess about the field goal she missed in New England. Hell, he hadn’t even apologized for South Carolina, but then that had more to do with the fucking image of her and Murry tongue battling than any guilt he might feel for going at her like an asshole.
Besides, maybe there was something serious happening between them. Ryder hoped not, given Murry’s reputation, but Ryder wouldn’t give his opinion. It wasn’t his place. Instead, he backed off, deciding he’d watch her from a distance. He didn’t want to wreck anything for her.
But, God, had it been hard to keep away from her. Travel was especially bad, when Reese would fall asleep, her seat facing his one row back on the plane. Most trips he was the last to board and got landed with whatever seat was left. Seemed his teammates always congregated in groups, and Reese and Ryder were odd men out. Wilson like to stretch out on the plane, while Pukui and Pérez took nearly an entire row to themselves.
That left Reese across from him and Ryder stuck watching her sleep, face perfect, relaxed as she snored soft sounds that reminded him of his senior year at Duke.
He squashed the thoughts during most trips and tried to focus on the play book in his hand, and whatever ideas Ricks had about their game plan as they moved through the season.
They demolished Texas in week five, and then embarrassed Atlanta in week ten. The season went by in a blur with Ryder throwing more touchdown passes than he had in at least two seasons while Wilson had upped his game right alongside Hanson, who had finally stopped messing with Reese during the season. Both men were neck and neck for nearly seven hundred rushing yards.
Pukui was still blocking everything that game for Ryder as he threw, and Reese had a stellar season so that by the time they got into week sixteen she had missed only two field goal attempts. She performed like the pro Ryder knew she was, and the chances looked great that the Steamers would have a running shot at the playoffs.
He’d been professional to Reese at the camp and in practices when they managed to see each other, and when they got close to game sixteen on Christmas Eve, Ryder decided enough time had passed. Murry had moved on to some reality star with a huge ass while Reese maintained a low profile only hanging out with Cat and Gia, sometimes Wilson, Baker, and Pukui at Lucy’s, and still Ryder hadn’t bothered to have a real conversation with her.
Because, deep down, he was a coward.
He should have never touched her. Not once. Not ever. But Reese