Page 21 of I Want to Know What Love Is

“Same thing, honey, and don’t forget it. Going to a wedding with a guy is a serious thing. Especially Gary’s wedding.” She pauses a sec and I steel myself. “Are you sure?” Her voice is quiet with concern, the real, tender, sisterly kind that makes everything in me tense and writhe with the sappiest emotions, the kind I avoid at all cost because I’m so not good at them. Look what happened the one time I let my guard down.

“I don’t want a serious thing,” I say, ignoring the concern. I’ll tell her the sorry story when I see her. “Seriously. Can’t we just find someone who will be okay with a one-night stand?”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear you say that.”

“Who are you, my maiden aunt?” She laughs and I smile because I miss her. “How about if you come up and visit me. We’ll talk about it. I can get tickets to a football game. You can bring the ball and chain. He likes football. It’ll be fun.”

“I’d love to come for a visit with my husband. It’ll be nice see where you live now. Maybe we’ll bring a guy up for you to check out.” I’ll never understand why she got married so young. Right out of college at twenty-one. Who does that?

“It’s done then. I’ll get tickets for the home opener and you can stay with me. If you’re bringing a guy, make sure he’s a stud. If he’s a billionaire or royalty, you get bonus points.”

My dear sister laughs as we end the call and the sound tugs at me because I miss her. But she’s not far and she’s coming up next weekend and that puts me in an instant good mood.

“Ready for pizza, Paul?” I ruffle his fur. He’s so easy to please. Kind of like young overeager jocks. I need to get a grip and learn how to graciously remove myself from the company of young jocks. “Let’s eat, baby. From now on you’ll be the only one I flirt with on this campus.” Paul cocks his head and listens attentively. “I don’t care how many sparks fly between me and one young QB. And don’t get me started about the tiny green ember of jealousy I felt over his attention to Emily. That is nothing short of embarrassing. As if. Emily is welcome to Dylan Jones.” Except I know he’s not interested in her and no way do I want him messing with her head whether he means to or not. We need her focused on her game if we’re going to make a run for the March Madness playoffs and make the Sweet Sixteen this season.

“We better do well come March Madness because my career may depend on it. And Paul, you know how much my career means, right? Like everything.” I put a paper plate covered with a giant slice of pizza on the floor for him. My career means everything because what else is there? Or what else is there that interests me?

Exactly nothing.

Aside from my puppy and some occasional fun in the hay with a suitable man, if I can find one.

Not Dylan Jones.

Following my routine, I fire up my laptop and sit at the table with my takeout meal and wonder if I’ll ever bother to use the shiny new stove in the kitchen. My calendar pops up, reminding me of an athletic department meeting in the morning. I’ll need to prep for that. In the evening the team has an informal practice and I’ll be working with Emily.

And shit, tomorrow night I also have my tutoring session with Jonesy. The kid with too much charm—not to mention those muscles and that face—too much for my desperate hormones to ignore. The rest of me is up to the challenge, however. Because I’m not a nitwit.

And I’m not vulnerable.

Chapter Nine

Dylan

Monday Morning

“Shel, let me ride to campus with you.” I jog to catch up with him as he blasts out the front door on Monday morning. “Drop me off at the field house, yah?”

“What do you have going on there?” We get to the driveway and find Bane leaning against Shelby’s tricked-out Jeep, waiting for us.

“Let’s go,” Bane says as if Shelby is his chauffeur. “I have an eight-a.m. class and the professor is dying to make an example of me as a lazy-ass athlete. Coach will give me bonus shit for that.”

I get in the front seat because I always ride shotgun.

“One of these days, Jones, I’m going to steal your seat.”

“You can try,” I say. Shelby laughs and guns the engine to wake up everyone on the street. Bane laughs. That’s an improvement in his attitude. Our windows are wide open , letting in a cool New Hampshire morning breeze and we make the short drive to campus.

“You forgot to tell me what you’re doing at the field house. It’s too late for lifting.” Shelby slides his eyes in my direction. I should have known he wouldn’t let me off the hook. He’s been hypervigilant ever since Coach Lake showed up at our party, like he’s afraid I’m going to do something stupid.

But this stupidity I’m contemplating has nothing to do with the sexy coach.

“I’m talking to Coach about an alumni sponsor—”

“What the fuck, Dylan. That’s a terrible idea. These sponsorships are full of traps and new ways for the system to take advantage of us.”

“Don’t worry. I’m capable of negotiating terms,” I say. Not because I have much experience, but because I hope it’s true. It should be true. It’s in my blood.

Shelby pulls the car along the curb in front of the main entrance.