Page 17 of The Linebacker
Even Amil.
Especially Amil.
Which, damn it, was annoying as hell. Diana already knew she liked the guy; she did not need that realization slapped in her face every time he spoke. Every time he did something sweet, like take her plate to the sink when she was done eating. Or ensure her glass was topped off with rosé, which was in the fridge instead of sitting on the table with the cab.
They did not talk about football over dinner, a choice she suspected was deliberate after the whole Jalen-needs-a-talking-to conversation. Or maybe it was because of whatever the hell Dante and Amil had talked about while she and Allison went to the bedroom so Allison could grill her on Amil (“Nothing, Allison, I swear. You know I’m a one-and-done girl, and we’ve already been there once.”). Because they had obviously talked about something important, based on the hard set of Amil’s jaw when she and Allison returned.
Instead, they talked about the winery where Allison worked, which happened to be owned by one of the Mountain Lions’ owners.
“That fact definitely came in handy when I had my little breakdown over the idea of us not ever talking again,” Allison said, her warm gaze on Dante.
“They kept you on staff based on your own merit,” Dante replied.
It was true. Allison had been forced to drop out of college when the funds ran out. She’d ended up bartending at a trendy place down in Malibu, a career she’d then been forced out of courtesy of Mitch Madden, a.k.a. the douchiest actor in Hollywood. Diana had helped her land the job at the winery, but the subsequent promotions had been entirely Allison’s own doing.
After giving Amil the CliffsNotes version of Allison and Dante’s near breakup, they moved on to the gorgeous countryside in northern Oregon. All three of them rattled off recommendations on what to see and do in the area, as if he were planning a weekend trip. He took in all the information graciously, acted like he really was appreciative of their suggestions, even as Diana wondered if he would ever take the suggested mini vacation. Hell, with the season about to start, that theory was highly unlikely.
They talked about the house a little. Amil said if they did decide to sell, he’d be interested in taking it off their hands, but no pressure. Even though he was currently living in a hotel.
And then it was time to leave. She had to take Amil back to the practice facility before she could head home and change into pajamas and curl up in bed with Lazlo and give in to all the fantasies that just kept building and building until she was ready to combust.
“Want me to drive?” he asked casually as they walked out to the car.
“Why?” she asked suspiciously, which was silly. She had nothing to be suspicious of with this guy. Nothing except that stupid desire to break her own one-night rule.
He shrugged. “It would be good for me to drive. Helps me better remember where to go next time.”
She supposed that was true. “Sure,” she said, walking around to the passenger side. He beat her there, opening the door and holding it while she slid into her seat. “Was this your grand plan all along?”
“Yes,” he said solemnly. “Although I would have held the door even if you decided to drive.”
Of course he would have.
She rattled off directions to the practice facility. She expected they’d continue to keep the conversation light. They were in a good place at the moment. Why ruin it?
“What are you afraid of, Diana?”
Well, that certainly wasn’t light, was it?
“Like monsters under my bed? Walking under a ladder? That kind of stuff?” she asked flippantly.
“Not even close. Although if you want to tell me about those fears, I’m happy to listen.”
She sighed. “What are you really asking me?”
“Why won’t you give us a chance?”
“Okay, first of all, there is no us.”
His jaw hardened as he gritted his teeth and clenched the steering wheel. “Fine. Why won’t you sleep with me again?”
“I told you?—”
“Why do you have that rule?”
Well, damn it. She slumped in her seat, crossed her arms.
“Are you really not going to tell me?”
