Page 23 of The Linebacker

Yes, she had. It had been an impulsive decision, partially an effort to help him bond with his new team. The fact that she had found someone willing to hang out in the cat room—she’d made an assumption, based on the way he took to Lazlo—without coercion had been a bonus.

The fact that she would be in here with him was an aspect she had tried not to think about.

Until she had no choice.

Although, real talk, other than these few minutes, they wouldn’t actually be alone in here. And the entire room was made of glass, so they might as well be in a fishbowl. Everyone could see everything happening in this room.

“I saw the way you grinned at Jalen,” she said, obligingly picking up a pure white long-haired ragdoll cat. It draped itself over her shoulder, and she stroked its soft fur.

Amil scratched the ears of a young calico that perched on a cat tree and batted at his arm. His hand was larger than the cat’s body, yet he was as gentle as…what? A giant?

“He’s now the third guy who has warned me away from you,” Amil commented, seemingly casually, while he cuddled the calico.

Ugh, why did observing him holding a cat make her insides all gooey? She did not need this today.

Or ever.

“Do you blame him?” she managed to choke out. “He’s the one with the crush.”

“That’s more than a crush. If you’ve put him off like you say you have, he’s more like obsessed. I mean, I get it. If you two ever banged, even if it was once, I can see where he’d get addicted.”

She scoffed. “Stop. I do not have a magic pussy.”

He arched his brows. She couldn’t retort again—no idea what she might have said anyway, because one of the staff opened the door and two Mountain Lions fans hurried into the glass enclosure. While the dad was clearly there to meet Amil, his son was there for the cats, and in the end, they walked out with plans to adopt a six-month-old black-and-white kitten.

The rest of the event went by quickly and with no opportunity for Diana and Amil to talk again. She was both relieved and frustrated, not that she had any idea what they might have talked about.

They’d talked to death the fact that they were not going to hook up again. And the Jalen situation, well, she had no clue what to do about it.

Other than talk to Jalen. Again.

Amil had told her he’d handle it, but based on the way they’d snipped at each other earlier, it did not look like that was going to be the best solution to the problem.

And honestly, the only problem was that Jalen and Amil were now teammates, so they needed to get along. That was it. Whether Jalen still held a candle for her didn’t matter.

Because she and Amil were not getting together, so Jalen had nothing to get upset about.

By the time she met with the humane society staff and collected all the adoption stats from today’s event so she could use them for team publicity, it was late and she was exhausted. She’d thought she’d text Jalen, see if he’d like to meet her so they could talk. Get this whole obsession, or whatever it was, straightened out once and for all.

But she wasn’t up to it, and considering how late it was, she really didn’t want him to get the wrong idea, so she promised herself she’d talk to him tomorrow.

When tomorrow came, her boss, Jeff, summoned her into his office. “We need a new photographer,” he said as soon as she crossed the threshold.

“Good morning to you too,” she said, placing his favorite coffee, a caramel cold brew, on his desk.

“Thanks,” he said. “You’re too good to me. And I’m sorry. It’s just that the guy’s going to be out for at least two months and the season starts in two weeks, and that is not enough time to secure a solid sports photographer.”

“Actually, I might have someone,” Diana said, thinking quick.

“Good. Go make it happen.”

Sometimes it was flattering that her boss had so much confidence in her that he did not even need to hear her ideas before letting her run with them.

Sometimes she would have preferred to bounce them off him first, at least to ensure they were on the same page before she actually enacted said ideas.

When she stepped back into the hall, Amil was striding toward her, dressed in workout gear, his backpack on his shoulders. She forced herself not to stare longingly at his body.

He slowed when he reached her. “What’s wrong?”