I'd told him the night of the bonfire what I was majoring in, and my plans hadn't changed. I loved sports, and knew I had what it took to talk sports right along with all the men.
"Yes."
"You'll definitely help a network's ratings by getting them a lot more viewers for pre- and post-game reviews."
"What makes you say that?" I asked, not sure what he was referring to.
"You're gorgeous, Scarlet," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Even if I wasn't into sports, I would turn the TV on to watch you."
Again, my cheeks warmed, this time due to his compliment.
"Sorry," he said, chagrined. "I'm not doing a very good job of pretending like I don’t know you."
"It's fine." I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "Let's just keep going. What is your greatest love?"
"My family and football," he said confidently.
How nice would it be to be so sure of an answer for that question? I had no idea what my greatest love was. It definitely wasn't my family. Maybe it would have been years ago, but not now. I loved my mom, and Ian was great, but were they my greatest loves? No.
I did love sports and loved analyzing the games and players, but I wasn’t sure if that was my passion in life.
"How is your family?" I asked. It wasn't one of my questions, but he’d told me all about them that night we'd spent together. I could tell how much he loved them and had been envious of how close his family seemed to be. "Do you still call them after every game?"
"They're doing great. I miss them like crazy," he said, a touch of longing in his voice. "And yes, I call them. They are still my number one fans."
"I'm glad to hear that." And I meant it. I was genuinely happy for him. "You're really lucky."
"I know," he said softly. "I'm very grateful for them."
I gave him a small smile, and for the first time since our night at the bonfire, there was no animosity between us, no tension. It felt like how it had been between us so many months ago. Just two people talking and wanting to get to know each other. But I couldn't let myself go there. Again.
"Okay, last question before we get into your regular daily schedule." I glanced at my computer screen, trying to clear my head. "What is your dream date?"
One of his hands ran through his hair and he blew out a breath of air. "Um, gosh I have no idea."
"When was the last time you went on a date?" I asked, seeing if that might help him, but also really wanting to know how long ago he'd been out with someone. He'd never had a girlfriend since coming to school here, but that didn't mean he didn't date.
"Hmm," he said, thinking. "Prom my senior year of high school, I think."
My eyebrows flew up. "You haven't gone on a date since high school?" My voice echoed through the quad. I was known for being loud at times.
An amused look crossed his face. "Is that so hard to believe?"
"Yes, well, no," I said, tripping over my words. "I guess you don't really need to date when you have girls at your beck and call."
"Yeah, dating hasn't really crossed my mind," he said, albeit sheepishly.
"Did you have a girlfriend in high school?" I blurted out before thinking about what I was saying.
I couldn't help wanting to know this information about Rush. Had he been a commitment guy at one point, or had he always been a player? Football was his life, but at some time, had someone been worth it enough to share in it with him?
"Kind of," he answered. "We were one of those on-again-off-again couples. We got along well enough, and she was pretty, but football was my life.Ismy life."
"And she didn't like that?"
"Uh, not exactly. It was more that I didn't give her the time and attention she deserved. She was more of a girlfriend of convenience."
I nodded. "So you were a crappy boyfriend."
