Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Yeah, Amil should not have approached Diana like that. And he sure as hell should not have propositioned her.
He was supposed to be making friends with his new teammate, not firing Jalen up even more than he already was.
For fuck’s sake, Amil hadn’t been able to resist.
When he said she looked good, he meant, holy shit, she was fucking amazingly beautiful. So much so that his brain had immediately misfired. All it could focus on was checking her pulse.
Was she still as into him as he was her?
The way her gaze lapped him up like warm cream behind those not dark enough sunglasses had triggered some of the best memories of his damn life, hands down.
And now he had a hard-on, which was impossible to conceal in his gym shorts. Luckily, everybody on the field was focused on the photographer, who, if Amil had to guess, had a broken kneecap.
Ouch.
“That’s not good,” Amil said, trying to change the subject so his dick would calm the hell down.
“What isn’t? The photographer’s obviously broken leg or Jalen’s obviously injured pride?” Diana asked.
A small laugh burst from his mouth. “Both?”
“You’re right,” she said, her arms crossed, her gaze on the photographer, who was being tended to by a couple of team trainers while they waited for an ambulance to cart him off to the hospital.
Abruptly, she turned to him. Watching her face was akin to staring at the sun. Painful, and yet he could not look away.
“But Jalen is the worst problem,” she said.
“Jalen’s going to get back on this field tomorrow. That photographer is going to be laid up for six weeks at least,” Amil pointed out.
“You know damn well that’s not what I’m talking about.
” She sounded snippy. Was that because she was sexually repressed?
He’d like to believe she’d been pining for him for all this time, even though he was pretty sure he knew better.
The night they’d hooked up, she’d laid out the ground rules up front.
One night. No strings attached. Walk away in the morning and never speak of it again.
He’d been so attracted to her, he’d agreed. Because at that point, it had been only physical. It wasn’t until later in the night—well, early in the morning—when they’d lain in bed and just talked that he realized he liked a lot more about her than just her incredibly hot body.
“Do you have an idea for how to handle the Jalen situation?” he asked carefully. Maybe she did. Maybe she’d already worked up a way for them to hook up again.
Whatever it was, he was all in.
“Yes,” she said and then paused. “You and Jalen learn to be friends. And you and I stay as far away from each other as possible.”
She spun on her heel and stalked toward the workout facility.
He started to call out to her—he needed a hell of a lot more explanation than that—but the lady moved fast. If he shouted at her now, it would be loud enough to draw the attention of the rest of the team, who were all standing around waiting to see whether practice would continue or be called off for the day.
An injury cart came charging across the turf from the practice facility, two EMTs holding on for dear life while one of the custodians drove it like he was practicing for the Indy 500. Hopefully, he’d go a little slower once he had the photographer on the back.
And then the photographer was carted away and Coach sent them all to the weight room.
The weight room at this facility was more like a weight arena. Two levels, more machines than most gyms, and plenty of space for guys to spread out and work alone—or buddy up to spot each other on the benches.
Amil hated this part the most when it came to joining a new team. It was the same every time, whether it was high school, college, or the pros.
He never fit in.
Part of it, he knew, was because he had a chip on his shoulder, molded from too damn many past instances where he’d been snubbed in this exact situation. It wore a guy down.
Callahan Stuart, a towel draped around his neck, stepped up next to him. “Hey, man, you want to spot me?”
“Sure,” Amil blurted, too surprised by the invite to say any more.
“Just please tell me it’s leg day for you,” Callahan quipped as they headed toward the benches.
Callahan was their kicker. While he was solid, he was a hell of a lot leaner than Amil, whose job was to stop the guy with the ball, which tended to involve getting through a few giant offensive players first. Amil was bulked up out of necessity. Those fuckers on the field hit hard.
“As a matter of fact, it is leg day,” Amil said with a chuckle.
An hour later, he was showered and ready to go…with no place to actually go. The trade had been a last-minute deal, so he’d basically packed up his truck, driven here from Santa Clara, and moved into a hotel.
He didn’t know shit about Portland. The only time he’d ever been to the city was to play the Mountain Lions.
He needed to befriend a local who would help him figure out where to look for a house.
He had a real estate agent in Santa Clara prepping his current home for the market, and she assured him it would go quick, so he really needed to get a move on.
He left the locker room and headed down the hall toward the exit. A door opened and Diana stepped into the hall, took one look at him, and rolled her eyes.
“I knew I’d run into you more than I’d like to, but this is ridiculous,” she said.
“It’s been twice in one day. Doesn’t seem that ridiculous.”
She flapped her hand. “I wasn’t quite prepared to actually communicate with you.”
“You mean, from a PR perspective?” Like she hadn’t read his bio or something?
“No, not at all.” She waved her hand again, although it was smoother this time. “That’s all taken care of. That’s the easy part. The hard part is…”
Did her gaze seriously drop to his junk?
She took a deep breath. “The hard part is keeping the past where it belongs.”
Yep. She’d definitely eyed his junk. And it was responding exactly as he’d expect. Damn it.
“Look, I get it. You’re a one-and-done girl. You told me this up front, remember? And honestly, between that and assuming you were Jalen’s girlfriend—”
“What?”
“What do you mean, what? Don’t tell me you’re missing the part where he acts like a caveman whenever you’re around.”
“No, I’m fully aware of that. It’s the whole girlfriend thing I’m trying to figure out.”
“When we played you guys—I mean, when the 49ers played us—he and I were constantly chirping at each other. And he led me to believe the two of you were dating. In fact, I thought you had cheated on him with me. Which isn’t cool, by the way.”
“Well, I’m glad you think cheating isn’t cool, but Jalen and I have never dated. We would never date. He’s a great guy, he’s just…not for me.”
“What’s your criteria? What kind of guy is for you?”
Why was he even asking this question? He was supposed to be keeping her at arm’s length for the sake of the team.
Diana laughed. “The kind of guy who’s satisfied with one night and doesn’t bring it up again afterward.”
“Ouch.”
“Sorry.” She shook her head. “It’s been a long day. Look, can we start again?”
She thrust out her arm. “Hi, I’m Diana, the team’s PR manager.”
He cupped her much smaller hand and shook it. “Amil. I’m the new linebacker.”
“Nice to meet you, Amil. I think we will work just fine together. So long as we keep things strictly business.”
He sighed. “Fine. Does business include giving me the name of a local person who can give me advice on where to start looking for a house? I need to find a more permanent living situation than the Hilton.”
“The Hilton is lovely, but I understand what you are saying. And as it happens, I can help you with your living situation.”
He waited for her to explain.
She tapped her own chest. “I can show you around town. I’ve been here for six years and have helped half the team find their dream home. I’m starting to think I should be moonlighting as a real estate agent.”
“Are you sure about this? That’s potentially a lot of time we could be spending together.”
“It is. And I think it’s perfect. We can get to know each other in a more vertical sort of way.”
“Vertical?”
There went the hand flap again. “You know, like, sex is horizontal, everything else is vertical.”
He managed to resist pointing out that two years ago they’d had the best vertical sex he’d ever had in his life.
Instead, he nodded. “Vertical. Friends. Or at least associates.”
“Friends,” she said. “I think we can be friends.”
He’d take what he could get at this point. And, honestly, spending time with Diana, even if it was non-sexual vertical time, sounded pretty damn divine.
Bonus if she helped him find a house.
“Is today too soon to start?” he asked. “Or do you have plans?”
“No plans,” she said, pulling out her phone, no doubt to double-check that statement. “But I do need to run home first. My cat gets very unhappy if his dinner is late.”
“Do you want me to follow you there, or do you want to meet me somewhere?”
“Just come with me,” she said. “I’ll bring you back here when we’re done. I’m assuming you want to be within a reasonable distance to the practice facility, since you’ll be here five days a week during the season.”
“Yeah, makes sense. Thanks.”
He followed her out to her vehicle, a cherry red electric Equinox. “I’m forever carting team merch from one promotional event to another,” she explained. Made sense. Cherry red and navy blue were the Mountain Lions’ colors.
As she drove, he asked her about her job.
She explained that she handled social media and community events for the team, and then she told him about this Make-A-Wish kid who had wanted to sit front row at a game and meet Dante.
Diana had turned that wish into a halftime show that still collected views online two years later.
“And the best part,” she said with enthusiasm, “is that little Austin is in remission!”
“That’s great,” Amil said. He was happy for the kid, but really, he just enjoyed listening to Diana talk. Sharing bits and pieces about her life. Even if all she’d shared so far was work-related information.
She lived in a condo downtown, near Portland State University. Her living quarters couldn’t be more than five hundred square feet in total. As Diana pointed out, she traveled with the team during the season, so it wasn’t like she was here often enough to get sick of the tiny space.
“Besides, it’s mine,” she said as she greeted a slim black cat who wound his way around her ankles and eyed Amil, withholding judgment. “Well, it will be in about fifteen years,” she added with a chuckle.
She scooped the cat into her arms, turning him onto his back so he lay there like an infant. He purred so loudly, it practically vibrated the entire condo.
“This is Lazlo,” she said proudly.
Amil scratched the cat’s ear, and it immediately leaned into his touch, stretching its neck for more after Amil pulled away.
“He likes you,” she said, letting the cat jump out of her arms. Then she opened the pantry door and pulled out a can of cat food.
Maybe he did, but the minute Diana popped the lid on that can, Lazlo abandoned Amil like, well, like a one-night stand.
While the cat ate, Diana gave Amil a tour of her condo.
The kitchen opened into a dining nook large enough for a small table and two chairs and pretty much nothing else.
That area spilled into a living room with huge windows overlooking downtown.
Around the corner, at the other end of the living room, was her bedroom.
She did not show him that room.
“Okay,” she said, cuddling the cat again, who was done eating.
“The stadium and practice facility are southwest of here, on this same side of the Willamette River. Most of the players on the team live either downtown or in a neighborhood called Hillside, which is west of here. It’s very hilly, hence the name, and there are lots of parks and greenspaces.
Also plenty of cool restaurants, many of which cater to you famous footballers. ”
“What does that mean, exactly?”
“It means you can go out for a quiet dinner without being mobbed by fans or the staff fawning over you in an uncomfortable manner.”
“Ah. Good to know. Who all lives there?”
“Pedro and Jillian. Broderick and Kate. Morgan and Royce. Sounds like she’s also keeping her house in LA so she has a home base when she’s filming movies,” Diana added.
“Filming movies?”
Diana laughed. “You didn’t know Royce is engaged to Morgan Gentry? Famous actress Morgan Gentry?”
“The only guy’s personal life I remotely paid attention to until now was Jalen’s.” Which hadn’t even been real. Just a bunch of smack talk.
Diana smoothly ignored his comment. “Dante and his fiancée, Allison, also live there, although they are currently looking for a place south of the city so she can be closer to work. She works at a winery down in the valley.”
She paused. “Actually, this could be a perfect scenario, now that I think about it. I should take you over to Dante’s house. If you like it, maybe you can buy it from him. Could save you the hassle of house hunting. Unless you like that sort of thing.”
He shook his head. “I do not. I actually bought my home in Santa Clara sight unseen.”
She chuckled. “I did the same. I wanted to be in downtown, but obviously my pay scale is much smaller than yours, so I went online, entered how much I could spend, and like five places came up. I liked this one best, so I bought it.”
He liked that they had this small thing in common.
“I’m going to change into something more comfortable, and then I’ll take you for a little driving tour. We’ll call Allison from the car. If they’re home, we can swing by.”
“Can we eat at some point in there?”
She rolled her eyes, but it was clear she was teasing. “I suppose.”
She disappeared around the corner, and Lazlo immediately began twining between Amil’s ankles. He lifted the cat—couldn’t weigh more than ten pounds—and it climbed onto his shoulder, purring against his ear.
When Diana came back, he was standing in front of the living room windows, the cat still on his shoulder. He turned around and was pretty sure his jaw dropped to the ground for a minute.
She’d changed into a pair of painted-on jeans and an orange crop top that left a swath of brown abdomen exposed.
He immediately visualized himself dropping to his knees and pressing kisses to that bit of skin before peeling those jeans off her to worship the slice of heaven he knew was hidden underneath.
He forced out a dry cough and closed his mouth. “You look, uh, great.”
“Thanks.” She grinned like she damn well knew what she did to his senses. “Ready?”
“Hell yeah.” Probably not for what she meant, though.
She strode up to him, and for a split second he thought she was about to kiss him, but instead she lifted the cat off his shoulder and placed it on the back of the couch.
“I’ll be back soon,” she promised the feline, and then she led Amil from her condo.
How the hell am I supposed to survive being around this stunning woman all the time?