she laughed at him. She liked the guy, had hung out with him a few nights ago with Wilson and Baker at Lucy’s. “I can’t look?”
“Did I say that?” Reese asked, elbowing his ribs as they both turned back to Gia, back on her phone again. “She is beautiful.”
Pukui nodded, but didn’t comment. He didn’t need to. Reese spotted the long, slow look the man made gawking at their manager. He was obvious, then embarrassed when Reese cleared her throat, bringing his attention back to her. “Beautiful, yeah. But, hey, let me show you someone even more beautiful.” Pukui dug his phone from his pocket, scrolling through a few images. “I told you about Keeana, my ex?” Reese nodded, twisting her head to the side when Pukui stood next to her. “She took these this morning of our daughter.”
“Keola?” Reese asked, remembering how big Pukui’s smile got when he’d spoken about his daughter that night at Lucy’s.
“Yep. Look. She did her first hula.”
He wasn’t wrong. The little girl, eight or nine from what she remembered of her earlier conversation with Pukui, was dressed in a traditional green grass skirt and wore a pink and white flowered head piece with matching leis around her ankles and wrists. She was beautiful, with dark skin like her father and a wide mouth and nose that narrowed at the bridge. Her eyes, though, shined like glass, were hazel and the smile she wore lit up her entire face, and was nearly as broad as the one her father held over his mouth as he scrolled through picture after picture happily bragging on his kid to Reese.
“She’s coming here for Christmas. I can’t wait.” Pukui pulled away his phone, still smiling. “Wilson said you’re gonna have your own team with the kids’ league?”
“Yeah. Hopefully.”
“Well, maybe you can let Keola practice when she’s here. She won’t shut up about you when I FaceTime her.”
“Oh?” Reese said, not able to hold back her proud smile.
“Yep. You’re her hero. Not, you know, her hardworking defensive lineman dad,” he sighed, laughing a little. “Anyway, I promised her I’d introduce you.”
“Can’t wait,” she said, looking over at Gia when she called her name. The manager gave Reese another “hold up a sec” finger point then continued with her phone call. When Reese looked back to Pukui he was staring at Gia again. That earned him another elbow to the rib. “Stop being so obvious,” she told him, smiling when the guy pretended to be more interested at the sidelines, shooting a belated nod at Wilson.
“I gotta jet. You coming to Lucy’s this weekend?” he asked, shifting his gaze from Gia back to Reese as he walked backward.
“Maybe,” she told him, head shaking as he shrugged, and jogged toward Wilson on the sideline next to Ryder.
Wilson greeted Pukui as Ryder hung back, near the bleachers, shoulders against the stands, arms crossed as he watched the field. Wilson stood next to him and when the running back spotted Reese watching them, he moved his chin, grinning so that Ryder followed his gaze, catching Reese’s attention once more.
She looked away again when Pukui blocked her sight of Ryder, and she decided she could at least thank him. For the kiss? For the reprieve? For getting Hanson to leave her alone? Despite the lingering anger over how Ryder had treated her, Reese needed to let the past go. She needed to move forward. She’d think of an excuse that didn’t sound stupid and desperate. He’d been so quiet since that Sunday in the gym, not rude, not ignoring her, but silent any time she got near him. Like he wasn’t sure he could go on hating her. He’d probably gotten used to it. Maybe it felt comfortable to hate her. Hating Reese didn’t force Ryder to do anything but marinate in his anger. He’d never be forced to confront Rhiannon’s loss if he still hated Reese.
But they had shared a kiss that might have meant more than clinging to each other. Regardless of what the intention had been, Reese knew she had to make things right. They’d only survive the season if they were professionals. But she knew Ryder. If he felt bad about kissing her, he’d never make the first move. It would have to be on Reese.
Twenty minutes later Reese left the elevator on the fifth floor, heading toward the front of the parking garage. Ryder always parked his Audi near the front row, and Reese hoped she hadn’t missed him. But