Page 46 of Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend (Catching Feelings #1)

CHAPTER THIRTY

KAYLA

A fter three consecutive away series (to Raleigh, Asheville, and Richmond), I’m almost home when I get a call from Scottie.

“Hey, I know it’s late, but you have an email from Gordon Voss.”

I groan and rub my eyes. I probably should have stayed in Richmond one more night and flown home tomorrow, but after two weeks, I’m eager to be in my own bed.

“What could he possibly need now? Wasn’t crashing the Raleigh and Asheville games enough?” The man was more interested in grilling me on Mudflaps operations than he was the teams he was visiting.

“Along those lines, he said he’s flying out next Friday to discuss your leadership of the Mudflaps.”

My stomach clenches and my fingers tighten around the leather steering wheel. “Great. That’ll be fun.”

I can hear Scottie clicking her pen in and out—that mindless, rapid-fire rhythm she only does when she’s trying to stay calm. “Whatever you did to become a target to people like Aldridge and Serena, good for you.”

I chuckle. “I’m not sure that’s a compliment, but I’ll take it.”

“It is. I’ll ask around, do some digging. Clementine is plugged into all the gossip.”

“Clementine is? Our sweet, wholesome church organist friend who plays ‘Hot in Here’ on the organ—” I snort. “On second thought, that tracks.”

“Yup. She’s whiskey in a teacup. Fire whiskey, though.”

“Is it bad that I like her even better for it? Although, to be clear, women being utterly sweet and wholesome is also completely likable.”

“Duly noted for women everywhere. Night, Kayla.”

I park in front of our place and stare up at the dark windows. Then I grab my bag and climb the stairs. The door creaks when I open it, but it sounds echoier than normal. Like without him home, there’s nothing but space and silence.

I thought I would be so happy to be home.

I’m not.

Sean has been gone for over two weeks at his training camp, but it feels like two years. At least when I was away, too, work could serve as a distraction. Although, normally, he’d come with me on these trips—sleep on the second bed, stare at the same ceiling with me, talk through the night.

If he were here, I don’t know if I’d want to be in a different bed anymore.

The weight of missing him is like a living thing, a boa constrictor draped around my shoulders, slowly squeezing me. And worse, it’s wrapped around my heart too. Texting him isn’t enough. Phone calls aren’t enough. Even FaceTime feels like watching the life I want play out on someone else’s screen.

I drop into an armchair and snap him my daily selfie with a kissing face, because, well, obviously I wish I were kissing him. Or cuddling him. Or falling asleep in his arms with my cheek on his chest and his heart beating that familiar, steady rhythm.

KAYLA

Just got home from Virginia. It feels too big and lonely without you.

SEAN

Nothing about that place is too big. Too cramped, is more like it.

KAYLA

You’re missing the point, babe.

SEAN

What point? I think I’m too slow and old to pick up what you’re putting down.

KAYLA

Then I’ll be very clear: I miss you.

SEAN

Hmm. I’m not sure I get it.

KAYLA

I’m lonely without you.

SEAN

Pardon?

KAYLA

I am shriveling up without you.

SEAN

Getting closer…

KAYLA

I can’t sleep without you next to me anymore.

SEAN

I cannot leave this camp fast enough.

KAYLA

I thought that would do the job.

SEAN

Is it bad that part of me wishes I weren’t here at all?

KAYLA

Not if that part just misses kissing me. I’m a great kisser.

If that part is feeling discouraged or defeated, though, I’m sorry.

SEAN

It’s definitely that you’re too good a kisser. I can’t focus. Griggs snuck one blocker-side today ‘cause I was too busy dreaming about your lips.

I take a selfie of the biggest duck lips I can make.

KAYLA

What, these lips?

SEAN

Those are the ones.

I pause.

KAYLA

You know, if it’s the other—you feeling discouraged or defeated—you can tell me, right?

SEAN

I know. Thanks, K.

KAYLA

SEAN

I gotta hit the hay. That 5:30 wakeup call waits for no man.

I miss you.

KAYLA

Okay. Good night. I love you.

I audibly gasp and stare at the screen.

Did I just text “I love you??”

My phone rings. With a FaceTime.

FROM SEAN.

I throw the phone like it’s on fire, but at the same time it’s soaring through the air onto the couch, I hear the distinct sound of the call being answered.

DID I JUST ANSWER THE CALL AND THROW THE PHONE AT THE SAME TIME OH MY GOSH I DID.

“Kayla?”

“No one’s home! Please leave a message!” I squeak, curling into the chair.

“Kayla Carville. Pick up the phone.”

It’s not a request.

It’s a command.

I tiptoe over, my face burning hotter than the phone—which was clearly on fire when I threw it.

I peek at Sean’s gorgeous face on the screen like I’m a toddler who’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

Except, the cookie I’ve stolen is a man who makes my soul feel both seen and stripped bare all at once.

“Your text,” he says, his voice deeper than I’ve ever heard it. “Did you mean it?”

I pull my knees up to my face and hide behind them, my heart beating hard enough to bruise my ribs. “I’m not going to tell you unless you promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“You have to promise to stop holding back. With camp. With me. All of it.”

Sean’s brow draws down. “Why do you think I’m holding back?”

“Because I know you! I can feel how dejected you are every time we talk. I know you’re disappointed that you’re fighting for a spot you turned down years ago. I don’t think you blame your family, but of course you’re filled with what-ifs and maybe even some regrets.”

“I don’t blame them.”

“I know.”

“I blame myself.” His mouth twists. “Want to know what I realized since I’ve been gone?

I turned Boston down immediately after Dad’s accident.

Before Mom even left. They told me to call them back, and I never did.

I’m the one who told Serena over and over again that I’d always be there, waiting.

I’ve done this to myself. I’ve made myself everybody’s fallback plan.

And once again, I’m reaping what I sowed. ”

His words pierce my heart like a knife. “Sean?—”

“I’m so tired of it, Kayla. I’m tired of treating myself like the guy who has to hold the door for everyone else but never goes through it.

But I don’t want to stop being the guy who holds the door open, either.

It’s who I am.” He rubs his beard over his jaw, looking pained.

”I’m not trying to seem bitter or ungrateful.

Helping Hall is … rewarding. He’s a sponge.

And the kid is gracious, too. Always thanking me.

But I don’t want to just be thanked; I want to be chosen .

I don’t know how much longer I can handle being overlooked like this. ”

“If they don’t see you, they’re idiots. I’ve watched all the videos Hall posts. You’re flawless out there.”

“You’ve watched them?”

“Of course I have! I watch everything you do.”

His head tips back, a shaky breath escaping like he’s caught between wanting to believe me and not trusting himself to. “Why?”

I pause, my throat tightening. “Do you know that I thought about you every day after we met at that wedding?”

“Because I saved you from a bad marriage.”

“No. Because of you . Without knowing me, you listened and actually heard me. You laughed with me. You saw me as someone capable and strong enough to advocate for myself. It made me want to become that woman. For me, but also … for you.”

“You didn’t even know me.”

“I knew enough. Tripp vouched for you, so I knew you were a good guy. But the way you listened to me with your whole body—” I place my hand over my heart like I’m cradling something warm and precious.

“You cared enough about me when I was a stranger to give me the push I needed to become a better version of myself. Because that’s what you do. ”

“What, cast judgments cloaked in bartender therapy?”

“No, funny guy. You elevate people. I wanted to live up to your expectations and reach the potential you already saw in me. You don’t exist to make people better; you make people better because you exist.”

Sean’s eyebrows almost tie together. I see his throat dip as he swallows, see his eyes well with emotion. He nods, but he can’t respond. He’s too choked up.

“You know you’re holding back at camp, right?”

He nods again.

“Why?”

He pauses, like he’s searching for the words. “Because if I give it everything, and they still don’t want me, then I’ll know for sure I was never enough. And I’m not sure I can handle that.”

I can’t breathe for a second. The pain and fear of wondering if you’ll ever truly fit, if anyone will ever choose you for who you are … it cuts deep. And it hurts even worse that he knows this pain so intimately. Emotion squeezes the words from my lungs.

“You are enough, and you are wanted. Not just needed.”

A tear spills down his cheek, and he sniffs.

“You said you want to ‘be chosen.’ I choose you. But do you choose you?” I smile as he dashes a tear from his cheek.

“You’ve opened the door for Hall. Keep it propped open!

But you can do a lot more for him and for everyone else on the team if you’re in the room, too.

Walk through the door, Cap. You’ve already been invited in.

Stop holding back and walk through the door. ”

He presses his hand over his eyes. “I want to. But I’m not sure I know how.”

His confession makes me feel like parts of my heart are crumbling. “Then what if you focused on enjoying yourself, for a change?”

He scoffs. “I play a game for a living. You don’t think I’m enjoying myself?”

“No. You look like you’re trying to make it about anyone but you, every play.

Like you don’t want to steal a single spotlight in case someone else wants to get under it.

I’m not saying you should hog all the attention, but I think the only way for you to go out there and show them what you’ve got is to show them who you really are: a guy who cares deeply, yes, but one who laughs loudly, too.

Do a windmill save. Get flashy. You enjoy life too much to white-knuckle your job, Cap. ”

He laughs, a short burst of realization. “Okay. You’re right. I promise I won’t hold back. I’ll try to have fun.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you sure you’re not just agreeing with whatever I say to get me to tell you I love you?”

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

I snicker. “Maybe I shouldn’t say it. It’s already been immortalized in text.”

“Not the same.”

“Why does it matter? We both know how much we care?—”

“It matters. You know it matters. I know it matters.”

I sigh, like the thing he’s asking is just so hard instead of something that feels like floating. Then I smile at his face on my screen, wishing he were here with me.

“I love you.” I pause, and then I let the next words come out, words that are essential for him to fully understand my message. “I love you, and forever isn’t long enough.”

“I quit. I’ll be right home.”

I laugh. “No you won’t. You’re going to finish that camp. You’re going to blow their minds with your love of the game and your skill.”

“And then I’m coming home to my wife?—”

“And we’re updating those résumés.”

“Yes ma’am.”

I grin at him. He grins at me.

“I love you, Boss. Kayla. You’re my forever.”