places with a huge courtyard in back and a nice pool, space for a small garden; perfect for parties and entertaining and likely higher priced than what she probably paid for her apartment. But, from where he sat, there wasn’t as much security, a fact that had Kai watching the sidewalk and the surrounding pavement as he sat right outside of Gia’s door, his big frame filling up most of the steps.
He’d wait all night if he had to and, God help him, he thought he had to.
Two half-drunk girls, both carrying nearly empty Hurricane cups, made their way down the sidewalk, arm in arm, slowing as they neared Kai. “Hey, sugar, you look lonely sitting up there by yourself.” The younger-looking of the two laughed at her drunken flirting while her companion tried and failed to drag her away.
“I’m good, thanks,” he told her motioning for them to move along.
“You sure because a hot man like you shouldn’t be…”
“Come on, Lily. My God.” Her friend pushed her in the arm, before she held up her hand to Kai. “I’m sorry, Mr. Pukui. She’s not from around here and her city doesn’t have a pro team. They…just don’t know any better…”
“It’s okay,” he told them, head shaking as the two girls hurried down the sidewalk. “Be safe.”
If Kai hadn’t been watching them, waiting, he guessed for the women to navigate the intersection and wait at the bus stop for their ride, he might not have seen Gia coming toward him. She didn’t notice him. Gia seemed more concerned with tugging the bag higher up on her shoulder and the two cars blowing their horns at each other than to pay attention to where she walked—something else that pissed him off.
But when she turned back toward the sidewalk, digging her keys from her bag and glanced up, Gia slowed her steps, hesitating as she looked around the street, likely trying to spot anyone that might recognize her or Kai.
He didn’t stand when she approached, not immediately and kept his elbows on his knees and his hand over his mouth as he watched her. Kai wanted to grab her, kick open her door and remind her what she’d been missing in her ridiculous exit from their building. For fuck’s sake, would the woman ever stop running?
She was ten feet away when Kai finally stood, taking one step at a time, his hands in his pockets as he met her in front of the landing.
Gia kept her expression impassive, her mouth in a line and her eyes guarded like she didn’t want him to get a read on what she thought. But Kai knew when she wanted him. He knew what would happen if he pushed her. It had been that way from the beginning—Gia wanted him to challenge her, to tempt her so she could rise to the traps he laid.
But Kai wouldn’t do that now.
“How did you find me?” she asked, sounding unsurprised that he’d been able to track her down. He shook his head, hoping she could see the disappointment he felt in the tension hardening his features. She looked over her shoulder when another car drove by, their horn wailing. “This isn’t smart. Being so exposed. Anyone could see us.”
“I don’t care anymore,” he told her, finally stepping in front of her. If he wanted, Kai could reach out to her, pull her against his chest, hold her in place long enough to take her breath from her, steal every protest she made with his lips and mouth and tongue.
But Kai wouldn’t do that now.
Not yet.
“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you…this isn’t going to work. Not as long as I’m your GM and you’re my player. I…care about you and Keola. You both…mean something to me and I can be your friend but…”
“Gia,” he said, grabbing her face. “Shut up.” Then Kai kissed her, putting everything he felt about her into the brush of his lips over hers and the hold he made against her body. It wasn’t some sensual, sexual tease he made over her mouth. He hoped it lasted. He hoped it made her remember how it felt when he loved her.
She pulled away first, fingers curled into his collar, her eyes still closed before she looked up at him. “I…don’t want…”
He silenced her again with his fingers moving over her cheeks and his gaze sharp. “I love you.”She’d never been that still or that quiet. He’d never seen the fear and