Page 57 of I Want to Know What Love Is

“Dean Lassiter will be so disappointed. He was especially thrilled when he called to confirm his approval of you representing the university in this cause. He didn’t know you had a rescue dog and he went on and on about his own puppies. He’s a real animal enthusiast.”

“Probably because people don’t like him,” Jonesy mutters under his breath and my mouth quivers in an involuntary lift at the corners that I barely suppress, diffusing the feeling of being threatened. I nod.

“Well in that case, I’ll make the time.” I try forcing a smile, but I fail and I forge on in my search for normalcy. “We can’t disappoint Dean Lassiter or his puppies.”

“Excellent!” Dooley claps his hands, then pats us both on the back as he escorts us out the back door to the parking lot. “I’ll be in touch to schedule it. Now you run along so we can finish up here.” He turns and leaves us at almost a run, like he’s worried we’re going to change our mind and maybe he’s right.

I walk with Dylan through the gravel lot in silence weighed down by sin and guilt though need still swirls in my gut. We stop between two cars, mine is parked next to one I don’t recognize.

“Is this your car? I thought…”

“The Jeep I drove that night belonged to my friend Shelby.”

I nod, standing stock still knowing it’s time to rip the band-aid. Pushing a stray strand of hair from my face, I meet his intense dark eyes and I’d swear he’s brooding like one of those to-die-for heroes and my gut trembles.

“I’ll see you Monday. It’ll be short. For appearances only.”

He nods.

“I understand. I…” He swipes a hand through his hair without finishing his thought and I wait a few beats.

“What?” He shakes his head.

“Nothing.”

I’m pathetic because I want it to be something, want him to put up a fight, to tell me he needs more than a one-off encounter, to let me know I mean more to him than that. Everything in me screams at him to say something, but the moment fades away and he turns. Then he walks away, gets in his car and drives off. I watch feeling a little foolish, I glance back at the Animal Rescue Building. No one’s there watching. It’s all in my head—or more accurately in my heart because my chest tightens so hard it hurts.

Confusion threatens me all the way to my front door and I get a call as I go inside and smother Paul in misplaced affection. He doesn’t care because he’s needier than I am. I laugh at myself until the sound of my phone rising from my bag jars me back to reality. My eyes dart to the clock on the opposite wall.

“Fuck. I am such a fucking idiot.” I dig my phone from my bag. It’s Emily. Double fuck. I’m supposed to be at the gym for our first practice and I bet coach is livid. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Emily, I’m on my way there. I was at a commercial shoot and it went late. Let Coach know for me, okay?” She agrees and hangs up, relieved that I’m not dead or kidnapped because, truly, in the past—before I met Dylan—that would have been the only reason for me to be late, or more accurately, to forget all about an impending practice. The first one of the fucking season. Shit.

I scramble off the floor and rush back to my car. I don’t care if I’m not dressed for basketball in my skirt. I throw on some new panties and sneakers and I’ll throw on gym shorts when I get there.

* * *

When I get there I give my explanation about the shoot for the Animal Rescue PSA, emphasizing that Dean Lassiter insisted I do it and then lie my ass of that it went late.

My Head coach’s coolness as she listens freezes my heart and I resist rubbing my arms. I stand tall and prepared to take the hit because I’ve been a fool.

“Just so you know, I can’t emphasize enough that this basketball team comes first, way the hell ahead of any miscellaneous service for the university.” She purses her lips and glances at the ladies on the court where Emily is running a lay-up drill.

Then she says, “But I understand how difficult Dean Lassiter can be and it’s always good to get brownie points from him. Not to mention that Oscar Harley is a very important alumni and I understand he sponsored the whole thing.” She pauses and nods and I had no idea Harley was behind it. That explains Dylan’s mysterious sponsorship, but not why he’s been so mysterious about it. I thought he was hiding something, but an Animal Rescue PSA is nothing to hide .

“I hope you acquitted yourself well,” she says. I nod.

“It’s expected to air this week, so we’ll see.”

“Let’s get on with practice. From what I can tell you’ve established a good rapport with the team and especially Emily. Good job with that.”

I allow myself one breath of relief and then she blows her whistle and we get down to the business of basketball.

After practice, Emily lingers and walks with me toward the door and pauses.

“So how was it working with Dylan? At the shoot, I mean. I bet he was great. I bet the camera loved him.”

I laugh, surprised though I shouldn’t be, that her crush is still so firmly implanted. Shame slams me because who am I to talk—if only to myself? I’m still crushing on him, aren’t I? And I’m a grown woman.