someone had doused Gia with freezing water. She tensed, the clarity sobering her, horrifying her, slamming her eyes shut long enough for his face to become abundantly clear.
Kai Pukui.
“Motherfucker,” she whispered, realizing too late he could hear her.
“No,” he said. “At least I don’t think so.”
Gia blinked up at him, trying to get a toe hold on the scatter of scenarios and thoughts that weaved in her head like a word cloud. This was bad. This was very, very bad.
“Gia…” he tried, but went quiet when she shook her head and held up a finger, just one.
“No.” She straightened, adjusting her skirt and wiping her mouth. She looked around the club, to the right of Kai, then the left, up top to the balcony, easing when she didn’t make out any cameras or fans with their phones out and pointed at the Steamers’ lineman. “No,” she said again, head shaking. “This absolutely, unequivocally did not happen.”
“Um, my dick would argue that point.”
Gia glared at him, killing the laughter that had begun to leave the man’s mouth. “This was stupid and irresponsible and…my fault.” She turned, arms curled, as she glared at him. “My God, what are you again? I forgot? Twenty-five?”
“Twenty-eight.” He tilted his head. “You?”
“Older.”
“I like older women.”
Gia flared her nostrils, not amused by him. “Not nine years older women,” she muttered to herself. She knew she wasn’t sober, but she’d learned to wear a game face and mask whatever she thought. Gia was sure she could manage playing at sobriety in front of what she assumed was the equally drunk man she’d just been making out with.
“You will forget this happened.” Gia hardened her features, keeping her tone sharp and her expression hard. It was a tactic she’d perfected that had earned her the ball buster reputation she was proud of. No one messed with Gia Jilani and walked away easy. “You will go back to Hawaii, per your request, and come back to New Orleans in time for spring training.” Kai guarded his expressions, moving his gaze over her face, standing to his full height to look down at her, but the intimidation tactic didn’t faze her. What did almost make her flinch was when the big guy licked his lips, letting his thick tongue move slowly, barely peek out along his bottom teeth. She watched the progression, but didn’t let her gaze linger. “You will not tell anyone what happened here, and you will maintain a professional demeanor around me on the field and in any capacity that requires the same. Is that clear?”
He was slow to nod. So slow, in fact, Gia thought he wouldn’t react at all, but eventually, Kai moved his head, still watching her, a barely shifting twitch on his mouth stretching his lips into a smile that irritated her.
“What?” she said when he kept watching her but didn’t speak.
“I’m just thinking about all the days I’ll be out there on the field, with those other assholes talking shit about you…because, you know they will.” His smile got bigger when he stepped closer and Gia moved back. “And they watch you walk around that field and see you handle your business and wonder…all kinds of shit about you…dirty damn shit, Gia…”
“Miss Jilani…”
“And,” he said, ignoring her correction, “I’ll be the only one with this secret.” He walked closer and she continued to retreat until Kai had her against the column again, his hand resting next to her head. “I’ll be the only asshole out there knowing how good you taste, how sweet your lips are, how you move when you’re turned on.” Kai shook his head, his eyes shutting for a second like he wanted to savor the memory. “That’s a fucking happy thought, Miss Jilani.”
She pushed on his chest, poking him until he back away. “Forget tonight, Mr. Pukui. For your own good.”
She took two steps away from him, ignoring the feeling of his stare on her body as she moved.
“Is that a threat, Gia?”
“It’s a fact,” she said, head shaking as she walked away. “I’m still your damn boss.”
1.
GIA
APRIL, 2017
“Prove those bastards wrong.”
It was good advice, if Gia Jilani said so herself. She’d given it to Reese Noble as the woman sat across from her the night before, her nerves clear, her anxiety showing itself in the death grip she kept clamped against Gia’s office chair. Reese was talented. She was an athlete, one that Gia had watched with careful attention even before she’d taken the job as the Steamers’