Page 26 of I Want to Know What Love Is

“My…” The words get stuck in my throat. The last thing I want to think about, let alone talk about with anyone, especially Amanda, is my parents’ divorce. Shelby is the only one who has a clue. “Never mind. Not a good story.”

“Let me guess. Your parents split up.”

“What the fuck?” How would she know?

She shrugs and sighs.

“It’s easy to tell. Divorce equals money problems and it’s the last thing a student wants to talk about. I’ve seen it far too often.” And there it is, plain and up front. I’m one of her students and that’s how she relates to me. But the last fucking thing I want to be to her is a problem student, so I lay on a slow smile and lather on the drawl.

“You’re experienced in the ways of the world. I appreciate that in a woman.”

“I’m not a woman. I’m Coach. And don’t you forget it. As for the money, beware of wealthy alumni because nothing in life is free.”

“And nothing is easy. But sometimes you need to take care of your responsibilities in spite of the cost.” I’m not smiling or drawling anymore because I don’t much enjoy being lectured to by her. It feels all wrong. “I’m not a naïve teenager.” My voice is quiet, urgent, as if I need her to understand I’m more man than a boy. I do understand my limitations, that I have a lot to learn in life, that I’m not a hundred-percent mature, but I’m closer to adult and more responsible than a lot of men who claim to be full grown. My dad being a case in point.

She puts her hands up as if in surrender. “Got it. No more lecturing. It’s not my place anyway. I don’t know what I was thinking treating you like a student.” She aims an arch look at me. She has dry sarcasm down and I crack a grin because I enjoy her sass.

“My mom needs some money so she can keep her house and if there’s any chance I can make that happen, I will.” The admission is painless and easy. And liberating because I haven’t talked to anyone about it. “Shit. Sorry for unloading. I may be a student, but I’m hardly your responsibility.”

“That your way of saying thank you for listening?” I laugh.

“Touché. Thanks coach. I’ll keep you in mind next time I have a family tragedy to unload.”

“I’m sorry, Dylan. It has to be hard for you to see your mom in this position. She’s lucky she has such a responsible, caring son.”

The air goes thick and silent around us and I clear my throat because a lump of emotion lodges there. The warmth of her eyes soothes me as I stare and sparks shoot between us, heating me up. I don’t necessarily understand this connection we have, but there’s no fucking doubt that we have one. I swipe a hand through my hair because I don’t know what the hell to do about it. All I know is, right now, ignoring it, ignoring her, is impossible.

Chapter Twelve

Amanda

His heartfelt, uncomfortable admission about his mom and the way he takes responsibility for her force my respect meter to shoot up. Shit. I don’t want this man-boy to even register on my meter, not for respect or hunkiness or any other more indefinable things I feel swirling. I want to crush the meter.

I shouldn’t have any meters where this kid is concerned. He’s a student. He’s never lived in the real world. He has no clue about real-world consequences. No matter how responsible he is, he’s still more boy than man.

And I’m in need of a man.

But I can tell myself that all I want when I know very well he’s twenty-one and all man physically and mentally. God only knows where he is emotionally, and therein lies the rub.

Do not think of rubbing.

Am I even a grown woman emotionally? Is that my problem here, why I find him so attractive?

No. It’s definitely his pretty face and sculpted man-muscles that draw me. And his confidence and sense of responsibility and caring for his mother. And the way he treats his teammates. Plus he has that sensual drawl that lingers like the aftermath of good sex.

God, I need to get a grip.

None of that outweighs the fact that he’s a student and I’m a coach, even if I’m not his coach. I’m an adjunct professor and I’m charged with tutoring him and it’s so wrong to take advantage of my position. I scrunch my forehead and realize, I don’t have any way to take advantage of him. I have no power or control, no ability to grade him or even influence over his position on the football team.

But still, it’s against the rules. Big time. And I’m all about playing by the rules because there’s nothing I want more than to get that head coaching job for the women’s basketball team next year. I need to do a kickass job of developing Emily into a superstar player and team leader and I’ll be a shoe-in.

“That’s a wrap on Finance 101, week 1,” I say, ten minutes and a personal conversation too late. I have to stop caring about all the lost puppies as if I can save them all because Dylan is just another lost puppy, albeit an irresistibly cute and charming one. Sure, that’s all he is.

I stare at his square chin, the dark stubble that trails down his neck, and his Adam’s apple moves up and down as he swallows, large and manly. Am I still thinking of his Adam’s apple?

“Right. Thanks for the lesson. Now I can concentrate on football the rest of the week. We have the season opener against Army coming up.”

“I’ll be there. You starting or will it be Bane?”