Page 23 of I Want to Know What Love Is

“You know much about her—Coach Lake?”

He considers me, giving me that excruciating unreadable stare where you have no choice but to assume he’s thinking the worst. He takes his time before answering and I can feel the sweat popping out on my upper lip, but I hope I don’t show my trepidation.

Hell, it was a stupid question and I’ll be the first to admit I deserve a lecture about minding my business and focusing on football and schoolwork. But that’s not what he says.

“She’s smart, a tough, competitive ballbuster and ambitious. She’s got an impeccable resume in basketball and I believe she’ll get the head coach position for the women’s basketball team next year.” He pauses and takes a breath, but I know he’s not finished.

“As long as she keeps her nose to the grindstone and stays out of trouble. Same as you.” He nods and then aims his attention back to his computer screen and starts tapping at the keyboard, dismissing me.

But I got his message loud and clear without him coming right out and accusing me of having naughty thoughts.

It’s easy to see and hear that the whole fucking team has naughty thoughts about Coach Lake, but maybe he’s respecting me too, giving me credit for having a shot at attracting her attention.

Or maybe Coach Ryan told him about our flirting.

Fuck. I need to get her out of my head.

Chapter Ten

Amanda

After finishing the last lap around the indoor track, I grab my whistle and a small towel and wipe the sweat from my face on my way to the women’s basketball team practice court. It’s also the student’s recreation court and as I push the door open I blow the whistle to chase everyone out. There’s a half-dozen or so guys playing. As I draw near, one of those guys turns around to face me and I suck in a breath. It’s my heartthrob-nemesis, the one person I could do without seeing until we’re both too old to notice each other.

The look on Jonesy’s face tells me he shares my feelings, because he goes from surprise to scowl.

“Hey, Coach, what’s up?” one of the other guys says. Shelby. Jonesy’s sidekick. “We were just fooling around for a few minutes before films. The court is all yours.” He bounces the ball until Dylan swipes it from him in a quick move that tweaks my appreciation for basketball skills.

“There was no sign on the door, nothing on the schedule,” Jonesy says. “Sorry for intruding.” He tucks the ball under his sculpted arm and walks past me. He’s not close, but he’s shiny with sweat and his scent reaches me, triggers all kinds of pleasure neurons that I squash immediately. I hold in a shiver.

“No problem.” I nod at him. The door swings open before he gets to it and Emily bounces inside with a few teammates behind her.

“Hi, Dylan. You here to watch?” she asks, part wiseass and part hopeful. Before he can answer, I blow my whistle.

“Line up, ladies. Two on twos for twenty minutes and then foul shots. For an hour.” The groans are comical though real. Dylan gives me a smirk over his shoulder on his way out of the gym. Shelby waves. I don’t know the rest of the guys in the group, but they stare on their way out like most of the guys on campus have been staring at me since I arrived a week ago. You’d think they’ve never seen a tall chick before.

Trotting over to the basket, where the handful of ladies are lined up and running through the drill, I watch Emily take a tough pass under the net and lay it up without effort.

“The passing’s going to have to be stronger and crisper than that in a game.” I stand under the basket and take a defensive stance. “I’ll run interference. Let’s make this interesting.” I wink at them. I’m disappointed that the whole team didn’t make it tonight, but I keep that to myself. These are the players who showed and they don’t deserve any grief. I make note of who they are.

After the drill and fifty minutes of foul shooting where they spread out at all four baskets in the small gym, I blow the whistle. I’ve been on rebounding duty all around the gym and I’m sweaty as hell. The clock says I have five minutes to get to my office for the tutoring session with Dylan. Shit. No matter what I think of him or whether or not I relish being put in this situation by Coach Radz, no way am I going to be late.

I’m a professional and I’ve always known how to behave like one.

“We’re done, ladies. Same time and place on Wednesday.” I nod to Emily as she catches up with me at the door. “See if you can convince the rest of your teammates to show up.” She smiles.

“Sure will, Coach. Once I tell them we ran into Dylan Jones, that’ll motivate them.”

“Really?” I want to be skeptical. She gives me a look of surprise.

“Of course. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but he’s hotter than hot with those smoldering dark eyes of his and all those muscles.” I snort.

“Lots of guys have muscles.”

“True, but they don’t have that… that something.” She shrugs as we head toward the locker room.

“That swagger?”

“Sure, but more than that. He’s so… so nice. On top of being adorable and smart. He’s just…” I put my hands up because I will truly become nauseous if I hear any more.