Page 39 of Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend (Catching Feelings #1)

He doesn’t squeeze.

Aldridge returns from taking Phineas to the restroom. When he sits, he says, “Kay, the crowd looks good today. I’d heard attendance was down from last year, but it looks like you’ve solved that problem. Do you think it’s the roster shift or the PR push?”

I think it’s Sean.

But I can’t say that. I don’t want to put Sean on the spot, and I don’t want to minimize my efforts or the team’s.

“You forgot a third factor,” Sean says. “Kayla. She shows up at every church potluck, Little League game, and town council meeting. People see her face. They know she’s not just a name on a sign or an owner in her luxury box. She cares about people. They can feel that.”

I don’t know whether to kiss him or cry. He knows how hard this has been—he’s seen every awkward potluck, every side-eye at city hall. But he says it like he believes it and like everyone else should, too.

Before I can respond, Aldridge grabs my attention again. My neck is starting to hurt from looking back so much.

“Still,” he says, casually. “The numbers look good. I’m curious how you pulled it off.”

“Are you looking for trade secrets?” I ask as something cold starts to curl around my ribs.

“No, I swear,” Aldridge says, holding his hands up and laughing. “I only came because Phineas’s club soccer team had a tournament in Columbia this weekend. Meryl wanted to take the kids somewhere fun before we head home.”

“No, I wanted to see you ,” Meryl amends. “I miss you, Kay.”

I feel like I’m swallowing broken glass for how it cuts all the way down.

“And I tagged along because I’m the World’s Greatest Uncle. I have the mug to prove it,” Aldridge says with a cheeky grin. “But yes, I am asking for tips. You have the Midas touch.”

“That’s the truth,” Meryl says. “Kayla can turn any garbage situation into gold. Do you remember that gala you helped me with?” She laughs.

“I nearly had a nervous breakdown when a big CEO showed up unannounced with her five poodles, but Kayla just cleared one of the tables, asked the caterer to whip up five bowls of plain chicken, and convinced the photographer it was a great PR shot. We raised an extra twenty thousand dollars from that photo, alone.”

I smile, caught between pride and nausea. I remember that gala. I threw up that night on the way home from not having eaten all day. Aldridge ordered me chicken soup from a nearby deli, tucked me into bed, and slept on a chair in my room to watch over me.

“She’s amazing,” Aldridge says, his voice tight, like he’s remembering the same thing.

I glance at Sean, trying to read his expression, wishing he’d put his arm around me and claim me as his, already. Wishing he’d go alpha or get super territorial—anything except this polite distance that feels nothing like the man I’ve fallen for.

A thud sounds behind me, followed by a squeal, and then lemonade splashes across Sean’s back and shoulder. He jolts forward.

“Oh no!” Meryl says behind me.

Sean stands up, twisting to see the damage as Meryl and Louisa both apologize. I scramble for napkins, but Hunter, sitting two seats down, raises a hand like he’s got the answer to everything.

“Sis,” he says, completely calm. “What are you scrambling for?” He lifts his T-shirt cannon and points it at Sean’s face. “Catch.”

With a loud pop, the T-shirt fires at Sean’s face, and he catches it like only a goalie can. He unravels the shirt and looks at it with a laugh.

“If She’s Your Wife, Why Is She Playing With My Mullet?”

We all groan.

“What the heck, Hunter?”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it. You married the mullet.”

“He only has a mullet during hockey season,” I shoot back.

“Look at that head of hair!” Gray says. “Don’t hold the man back. If he wants a mullet, he gets a mullet.”

“Why don’t you yahoos grow a mullet if you love them so much?” I ask.

“Excuse me while I go change,” Sean says.

“It’s okay, Cap,” I say, my eyes roving over him pointedly. “Change here.”

Sean’s eyebrow starts to quirk up—the heat in my stomach starts to flicker—when Meryl laughs.

“That may not be the show my kids need.”

Sean’s face goes beet red as he nods and walks out of our row and up the stairs.

And suddenly, I wish Meryl hadn’t come at all. We needed that clean break. I’m not part of her life anymore. This isn’t the order of things. When you break up with someone, you break up with their family, too, even though it hurts.

What’s that Harry Potter term when the characters try to teleport, but they get cut in two and left in both places? Splinched?

Yes, that’s it.

I feel like I’m being splinched, not because my heart isn’t where it’s supposed to be, but because my former life is so determined to pull attention from the present.

We all turn to the game, when Rivers hits a single. We’re still cheering when Sean comes down the stairs and returns to the row.

The shirt is too tight, accentuating his torso in a way I know he’d never choose for himself. My brothers laugh. “Smediums look good on you, man,” Wes teases.

“I think I see why you married him,” Meryl says in my ear.

The whole thing should play for laughs, but it feels cheap. Even her joke—her perfectly innocuous joke—feels wrong.

For the rest of the game, I stop turning around quite so much, keep my attention more fixed on my row, my family. I don’t want to look behind me anymore.

When the game’s over, we file out of our seats, and I’m surprised to see that Aldridge isn’t with his sister and her kids. He’s up on the concourse, talking to someone.

“Who’s that?” I mutter to Sean.

“Tucker. Serena’s husband.”

Aldridge shakes his hand, and I expect him to fold his arms and wait for Meryl to come up, but instead, he talks to another fan. And then he stops a group.

“What’s he doing?” I can’t help asking Meryl as we walk upstairs.

“I don’t know,” she says. “He mentioned that he wanted to see how the town was liking the changes you made. He still cares about you, you know.”

The hairs on my arms stand up, a flash of warning that there’s more to this than Meryl realizes. “I know,” I say.

And that’s what worries me.

Aldridge isn’t here to give Meryl and me closure. He didn’t come to prove that we can all be grown-ups. He doesn’t even want a second chance.

He wants to make sure no one in town will give me one.