Page 25 of Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend (Catching Feelings #1)

“I love it,” Ronnie says. “And Kayla will fit better against you in sneakers.” She gives me an apologetic look, like she understands what she’s doing but it’s worth it for the shot. “You are so … statuesque, Kayla! But your height might make you look less sympathetic.”

“Of course,” I say, the fight slowly draining out of me. I’ve objected to photos before. It never makes a difference. I may as well embrace Ronnie’s vision so I can wake up from it sooner rather than later.

We continue taking pictures for the next half hour.

And with every click of the camera, I feel my body fold slowly in on itself, like I’m shrinking to fit into the frame.

During a break, Scottie grabs me and pulls me into a restroom.

“What is going on with you?” she demands. Her glasses are sliding down her nose, and she pushes them up.

“Nothing. I’m just going along with what they want.”

“Exactly. Why? What is he saying to you?”

I feel sick, but the feeling is too familiar. I so often felt this way with him. Like I was breathing through a scarf and forgot what fresh air felt like.

“Nothing bad. He’s … complimenting me. Telling me how good I look, how nice my smile is.”

“No, he’s complimenting you when you stand in a way that makes him look good. He’s manipulating you into acting the way he wants you to act! And you’re not slapping his face!” Scottie throws her hands up. “Who are you and what did you do with my boss? My friend?”

She washes a paper towel, wrings it out, and hands it to me. “Put that on the back of your neck so you can cool your brain. It’s clearly overheating.”

I do what she says.

It does feel good.

“You wore Sean’s jersey here, girl—your husband. You’re wearing a Mudflaps jersey now—your team. Aldridge may own the place, but he doesn’t own you. Don’t forget that.”

She spins me around to look at myself in the mirror. She’s several inches shorter than I am, and for some reason, seeing that reminds me of something.

I came here wearing platform mules.

Three-inch heels, to be specific.

All I have to do to be the exact same height as Aldridge is slip those back on.

“You’re right,” I say. “What am I doing?”

Scottie’s smile grows razor sharp. “He thought he had your number, but you’re changing it. Right?”

“Right.”

“Good. Now I have to pee like a racehorse, so let’s put a pin in this for two minutes.”

I laugh. While Scottie goes to the bathroom, I lean against the counter, pull out my phone, and see a text from Sean.

And I breathe easier.

SEAN

How’s the photo shoot going? I’m thinking about you.

KAYLA

It’s better just knowing you’re thinking of me, honestly.

SEAN

In that case, it should go really freaking well, because I can’t get you out of my mind.

KAYLA

Well hello, husband.

How are things with Otto? Are you still out to eat?

SEAN

He’s using the restroom. We’re all about to head out. But it went well.

KAYLA

REALLY?? Tell me everything!

SEAN

It’s more than I can say through text. Want to call me whenever you’re done?

KAYLA

More than you know.

SEAN

I wish I were there with you.

KAYLA

I do, too. Although, I guess now we don’t have to figure out how to share one bed…

SEAN

Kayla Carville, are you trying to kill me?

KAYLA

Miss you.

SEAN

Miss you, too.

“Ready?”

I look up to see Scottie drying her hands. I didn’t even hear her come out of the stall.

Sean has a way of making me forget about my troubles. Or helping me prioritize them, maybe.

This drama with Aldridge? A silly photoshoot where they debate if I’m too tall to be sympathetic?

Not a priority.

“Kayla, you ready?” she repeats.

“Not yet. Could you grab my mules?” I ask.

“Gladly.” She grins and rushes out of the bathroom while I straighten my jersey.

It doesn’t have Sean’s name on the back, but it has one just as good.

Mine.

I don’t give Aldridge an inch the rest of the photo shoot. Not in his office, not on the field. And I put my foot down, too, about him touching me.

“It’s lovers to rivals, right?” I say when Aldridge tries to grab my waist again at home plate. “If anything, shouldn’t I be trying to strangle him?”

The photographer laughs. “That’s good. Let’s do that.”

“No, that’s absurd,” Aldridge says.

“He’s right,” Ronnie says, and for a moment, disappointment pinches my lungs. “Are you right-handed?”

“Left, actually.”

“Perfect! Let’s have you hold a ball on the mound—ring flashing—and look over your shoulder at the camera with a wicked look. Then we’ll have Aldridge at home plate looking nervous.”

“I love it!” Scottie says next to me.

“I’m not interested in playing for comedy. This is business,” Aldridge says.

“You had no problems taking pictures with your arm around a married woman who broke up with you,” Scottie says. “That’s pretty funny to me.”

“Remind me to give you a raise,” I mutter.

“I’ll add it to your To-Do list,” she says.

And that’s how the rest of the shoot goes.

We finish up in Aldridge’s office minutes before the game starts, and as soon as Ronnie tells us we’re done, I start to walk out with Scottie.

“Kay, I need to talk to you about something,” Aldridge says as the others clear out.

“Okay?”

Scottie stays with me, earning that raise more than ever.

“Alone,” Aldridge says.

“What could you possibly need to say that you can’t say in front of my assistant?” I ask, and it’s a sincere question, not a snarky one. “We don’t have a relationship any longer.”

Hurt flashes across his face, and as much as I hate to admit it, it’s sincere. For all of his faults, he really did love me. Or at least the version of me he molded when we were together.

I exhale a little too loudly. “Scottie, it’s okay. I’ll meet you in the hall in five minutes. You can time me.”

Scottie’s eyes narrow with reluctance, but she steps into the hallway.

Aldridge looks at the open door pointedly. I smile like I have no idea what he’s implying. With a roll of his eyes, he walks around his desk, crosses his enormous office, and shuts the door.

“Have a seat,” he says.

“I prefer to stand,” I say, folding my arms.

“Kayla, what is this wall you have up? This isn’t like you.”

“Aldridge, let’s not do this, okay? We’ve both moved on.”

“Have we?”

I hold up my left hand, and I wish it didn’t cause such a look of hurt on his face. “Yes. Now please, what did you need to say?”

He sits back against his desk, but when he looks at me, I don’t know if he just doesn’t like the power dynamic of me towering over him or if he genuinely wants to be eye-to-eye. But when he pops back up, that’s exactly what we are:

Eye level.

On equal footing for the first time since we’ve known each other.

He shakes his head and seems to remember something, because the next thing I know, he’s taking something from his top drawer and handing it to me.

“Before I forget, Meryl asked me to give you this. She had some new photos put up in the house and thought you’d want this one.”

I open the thin, beautifully wrapped package to see a framed photo of me and Meryl at my bachelorette party in Scottsdale. We’re hugging, wearing identical mini dresses and the hugest smiles.

“She said it was too precious to mail,” Aldridge says.

I can’t pull my eyes away from how happy I look with Meryl. If I’d been even half this happy with her brother, we’d be sisters right now.

“I wanted to come clean about something that’s eaten at me for a long time,” he says, pulling my eyes up to him. He runs a hand through his perfectly sleek, short hair, and a frown takes over his smooth face. He has beautiful skin. He’s a beautiful man, manicured and picture perfect.

But unfortunately for him, I’ve lost my taste for manicures.

He takes a deep breath, like this is hard for him. And maybe it is.

“I cheated on you while we were engaged.”

If he’d told me this before he gave me the picture, I might have fist pumped and yelled, “I KNEW IT!”

But I don’t. I keep my arms folded, and I don’t blink. I just wait. And my heart aches.

Not for him. It’s for you and Meryl. Not for him.

“It only happened once, after you delayed the wedding the first time. It didn’t mean anything, but I was hurting and I’ve regretted it for years. I know I don’t mean anything to you anymore, but I needed to clear the air.”

“Okay,” I say. “Thanks for telling me.”

He blinks rapidly, his long eyelashes moving so fast, it’s like he’s trying to trap a fly with them. “That’s it? ’Thanks for telling me?’”

I smile softly. Part of me wishes I’d known this three years ago, when it must have happened. But the other part of me can’t help but put together that I’m only here right now because I didn’t know. And … I kind of like where I am right now. Or where I’m heading, at any rate.

“Aldridge, we didn’t work out for a million reasons, and it sounds like that was probably one of them, even if we didn’t know it.

We didn’t complement each other. We couldn’t be complete with each other.

I appreciate you telling me, and it makes sense, honestly.

But I’m not hurt by it, if that’s what you were worried about. ”

He scoffs, his head shaking like a sideways bobblehead. “You are unbelievable. You’ve changed, Kayla. You aren’t the woman I fell in love with.”

“No, I’m not,” I say, dropping my arms. “I know you loved me, but I didn’t. I didn’t even know myself. I really like who I am now, though, and I’ve found someone who happens to think this version of me is delightful. I hope you can find the same thing.”

I give him a tighter smile, but I don’t hug him. “Goodbye, Aldridge.”

And when I leave his office, he’s speechless.

Thank heavens. I’m really sick of hearing that man talk.

Scottie greets me in the hall with a wary look. “We all good?”

“Very good. I’ll meet you in the VIP Suite in a few minutes, all right? I want to call my husband.”

Scottie gives me a smug smile. “There she is.”