Page 5 of I Want to Know What Love Is

“What’s up this weekend?” Shelby sits next to me as I tie my sneakers. “We getting a keg at BMOC House?”

“Do bears fuck in the woods? It’s the tradition for how many years? First weekend blow-out.” I stand and smile, but my heart isn’t in it. I need to call Dad to find out where the fuck he’s going and with who. And I need to check in on Mom again. Shelby shrugs and walks with me out into the hall to head out the front door of the field house.

“I don’t want to take it for granted since we’re trying to stay clean and disciplined this year to win—”

I wave a hand at him. “Don’t worry—we will. The keg will be mostly for our guests. The team will be on a strict limit of two beers. And that goes for every party this year.”

Shelby snorts. “You going to enforce that?”

“You know it.” This is one thing I know I can do. I have a tight grip on the leadership of this team. I have their respect if nothing else because no one works harder and no one puts the team first more than I do.

“I guess you can.” He nods. We head for his car to drive back to the house, BMOC—Big Men on Campus—House, so dubbed years ago by Jack Hunter, the original founder of the non-frat house. He’s now a star QB in the NFL and pride of the alumni and every fucking football player at SPU. He left the kind of legacy I intend to live up to. Except the part where he didn’t get the Heisman.

“Wait up.” I turn to see none other than Randall Bane trotting to catch us as we reach Shelby’s car. He drives a kick-ass new Jeep Wrangler 4xe which is topless today. I grab the roll bar and swing myself into the passenger seat.

“Hop in. We’ll give you a ride,” I say.

“That’s damn good of you,” he says, but his smile is wary, like we’re going to drive him to the middle of the woods and drop him.

“What’s on your mind?” It’s clear he wants to talk as he settles in the back and Shelby starts it up. Maybe he’s going to apologize.

“I hear you live in an off-campus house. BMOC House? I hear it’s reserved for serious athletes and I want in.”

Looking at him in the rear-view mirror, I maintain my game face though my instinct is to turn and smack him. Shelby snorts and holds in a full out laugh. I should think it’s funny, but I’m angry and that’s not good. He’s my team mate and he’s a stranger in this country.

“Is that right?” I give him a chance to simmer down his arrogance, but he doesn’t take it, staring back at me in the rear view.

I say to Shelby, “Do we even have an open room?” Shelby shrugs. We both know there is one opening because a defensive lineman who was slated to live with us transferred at the last minute. And it looks like someone told this asshole all about it. Not one of the guys from the house. I’m sure of that. There are only a dozen of us and even though we’re not a fraternity, we’re tight and we have each other’s back. I’m head of the house this year and it’s my responsibility to keep up the tradition. We have mostly football players in the house this year with a couple hockey players and one lacrosse player.

“Who told you about the house?” I ask since Randy doesn’t seem to be volunteering anything.

“Coach Ryan. He says you have a great cook. Majisky or something?”

“Majik.” I’m going to give coach Ryan shit about interfering in BMOC House because he should have come to me first if he had ideas. But then he doesn’t like me much for some reason that I still haven’t figured out. I don’t bother saying any more as Shelby pulls into the driveway of BMOC House in the prime parking spot.

Our house is large and old with three floors. Above the front door the bold, black letters B-M-O-C hang in wooden blocks, like a dark, perverted version of Sesame Street teaching passersby a different kind of lesson.

“Home sweet home,” Shelby says and jumps out of the Jeep, leaving me to deal with Randall Bane.

“Guess we forgot to ask you where you’re going. You might as well come inside and look around while you’re here.” I know I have to give him the spot because something in me won’t let a team mate suffer, not even an asshole. And I know this kid is in pain. Either it’s loneliness or insecurity or fear or all three causing his aggressive behavior, because he’s just made a giant leap from Australia to the middle of nowhere in New Hampshire. To a fucking competitive kickass football program at an elite university. And he should be scared shitless.

He nods, trying to suppress a half smile as he jumps from the Jeep with his SPU duffle.

“This way, roomie.” I sigh as I lead him to the front door and inside. There are no curtains or blinds on the windows of the first floor. The front hall is formal and empty, the wood floors scuffed.

“This is your vaunted house?” He looks around like we’re standing in the city dump. Unsure about whether doing the right thing is the smart thing with this guy, I raise my middle finger over my shoulder in his direction and keep walking. I have no choice but to include him because I have a fucking conscience the size of Chicago that wouldn’t let me sleep tonight if I turned fucking Bane away. He’s new and he’s one of us now.

Chapter Three

Dylan

After closing the door to my room behind me, I grab my phone and press on Dad’s icon before I have a chance to find something better to do. I don’t want to hear about his new life, but I need to know what’s going on. I need to make sure he’s taking care of Mom and I don’t give a fuck if he’s got a new girlfriend to pay for. That’s his worry.

The phone rings as I pace the length of my room. My grip gets tighter as it rings for the second and then third time. By the fourth ring my jaw is clenched, but I hang in because I’m a stubborn fuck—a chip off the old block. Before it goes to voicemail, dad picks up.

“Hey, look who’s calling. My long-lost son. What do you need, Jonesy?”

“Hi, Dad.” I keep my voice even, unclenching my jaw in spite of the false cheer in his voice. I recognize that tone. He’s a top salesman and it’s not the first time he’s treated me like a potential customer, someone he needs to schmooze. “I heard from Mom today. She said you left.”