“Giana,” she corrected, though her voice was soft as she did, almost so much so that I didn’t hear her at all.

My eyes flicked down to the cat whiskers spreading the length of her hip bones. “Cute skirt.”

She rolled her eyes. “Glad to see you’re in a better mood today.”

“Don’t let him fool you,” Holden piped in from his bench. “He had Robbins in a death grip two minutes before you walked in here.”

Giana gave Holden a questioning glance before shaking her head and focusing on me again. “We need to talk.”

“I’m all ears, Kitten.”

Her cheeks flushed as pink as her sweater before she glared at me. It was as if that nickname snapped a new persona into place. I watched as she went from sort of cowering and shy to standing taller, shoulders back and chin up.

“After the stunt you pulled yesterday, my ass is in hot water, and we need to discuss media protocol and on-camera etiquette.”

It was my turn to roll my eyes as I got back into position for another rep of squats.

“I did my time over the summer,” I said, and then I pushed the weight up, beasting out my next ten reps with her still standing beside me. When I racked up the weight again, sitting up, she hit me with a patronizing smile.

“Well, clearly, you didn’t comprehend any of it.”

“I comprehended just fine.”

“After yesterday, I beg to differ.”

I shrugged. “So, I suck at being on camera. Just don’t put me on. Simple as that.”

“No, not simple. You’re a star defensive player with a lot of media requests. And you don’t suck on camera. You were like a fish in water any time I had you interviewed last season.”

“Times change, Kitten.”

She gritted her teeth. “Stop calling me that.”

A teammate somewhere behind me let out a soft meow that made another bubble of laughter burst through the weight room, and I fought to hold back my own.

Giana sucked in a hot breath through her nose before pointing a finger at my chest. “You have a mandatory PR meeting with me tonight after team meetings. The coffee bar by the student union. Eight PM sharp. If you’re late, you’ll have Coach Sanders to answer to — understood?”

Appreciation simmered in my chest at the sight of her standing her ground, at how she raised her voice just a notch and tipped her chin at me while she waited for my response.

“Yes, ma’am,” I purred, and I couldn’t help it.

I glanced at her skirt again.