gaze still fierce, controlled, as he watched her. There was so much in that look. So many things that made her wet and willing and ready to finish what he started.
The elevator doors drew back and a tall, leggy blonde who smelled of vodka stumbled into the elevator, laughing at herself then squealing with delight as she spotted Ryder on the opposite side of the elevator.
“Baby!” Greer Larson said, opening her arms as she moved inside. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Ryder swallowed, and some of that cool composure slipped as he took Greer’s hug, sloppily holding his hand to the back of her head. “I’m here,” he told her. His attention was on Reese, and it seemed in an instant, Ryder lost that glorious buzz. His expression fell, and his eyes softened, as though this was something he’d never meant to happen.
Reese wanted to be sick. She wanted to claw out the eyes of a woman who’d done nothing to her. A quick glance at Greer as she turned around, smiling at Reese as though she’d only just realized she was there and the blonde’s expression changed. That smile became a sneer, something smug and ridiculous as she pulled Ryder’s face toward her, taking his mouth in an open mouth kiss that had Reese’s stomach turning.
“Stop…” Ryder tried, gaze flashing back to Reese as she looked at the numbers changing as the elevator moved.
“Come on, baby,” Greer said, a thick drunken laugh in her tone. From the corner of her eye, Reese noticed the couple watching her. “She’s your teammate. She won’t care if we fuck in the elevator, will she?”
This was the woman Ryder slept with. This was the pretty, obnoxious woman who’d been on his arm the past two years?
“Stop being disgusting,” Ryder said to her, pushing her back when she tried resting her head on his shoulder, curling an arm across his chest. She had a grip on Ryder that he didn’t seem able to keep away from, and Reese shook her head, feeling dizzy, definitely nauseous as she waited for the elevator to climb faster.
“Reese,” Ryder said, his voice low, her name barely a whisper, but she wouldn’t look at him. Instead, she willed the numbers to climb quicker. It took three minutes to reach the twenty-fifth floor, and when the bell finally chimed, Reese hurried through the doors, hearing a sleepy call from Greer behind her.
“What’s the matter?” she asked Ryder, her laugh obvious, cruel.
“Nothing,” he said. “It’s nothing at all.”
14.
REESE
THE HEADLINE WAS BITING. Reese had been expecting more snark. The sarcastic commentary from the media hadn’t surprised her. She’d been facing it since her junior year. Every week since she signed with the Steamers there had been some discussion in the media, local and nationwide, about her as a woman, her as some sort of mythical ceiling crasher that was to be either reviled or celebrated. It wasn’t often that they went too deeply into her skill. There were a few sportscasters, mainly the female ones, who weighed in on Reese’s abilities and talent. But for the most part, the focus had been all about her gender. She was a woman playing in a men’s sport. There were bound to be some egos fractured and old, traditional sports journalists that just didn’t want women on the field. They didn’t know what to say to her, or what questions to ask that would be relevant and not make them look like assholes still stuck in the seventies chasing women around their desks to grab ass.
In all that time, though, Reese had never expected crack shots that were just downright mean.
“You look…” Gia started, holding the newspaper out in front of her, arm outstretched. “Um…”
“Powerful,” Cat offered, taking the front page of the Times Picayune from her boss. When Reese and Gia both stared at the woman, Cat shrugged, hiding her grimace behind a large glass of red wine. “I’m just saying…”
“Well, please don’t,” Reese said, grabbing the front page to crumble it between her fingers. “This is ridiculous. Ryder and Wilson and freaking Pukui get to do a calendar with a celebrity photographer, and I get Billy Bob from the local paper and a shot of me snarling at some asshole blocker who knocked me ass over ears.”
“That wasn’t my idea,” Gia said, slipping off the sofa to grab the half-empty bottle from Reese’s island. “This calendar thing was on the books before I took the job.” She poured a healthy