Page 30 of I Want to Know What Love Is

“Those chocolate chip?” He nods and pulls a handful of cookies from one of the three jars Majik keeps stocked for us. Not store bought. All strictly homemade. And yes, we are spoiled fuckers and I know the minute we leave BMOC House we’re going to be in serious cook-withdrawal realizing how good we had it and wishing we could take Majik with us wherever we go. Wishing we could bottle the whole BMOC House experience in a snow globe and keep it always.

I catch the two cookies with one hand as Shelby tosses them across the room.

“Hey, anyone tell you that you have quite an arm there? Maybe you should play quarterback.”

He flips his middle finger at me because we both know he played QB in high school and it was a mild disappointment to him that he wasn’t big enough to get recruited for a quarterback position at the college level. But he’s over it since he made the college football All American team at running back last year and has a shot at breaking the SPU record for all-time rushing yards.

“How was it?” he asks. I toss him his keys and he catches them with a flick of his wrist.

“I’m fucked.” I don’t know what else to say, but I needed to say something so I don’t explode. His eyebrows shoot up under his long bangs. He blows out a low whistle and heads for the back stairs.

“What did you do?” He waves at me to follow. We can’t have this conversation in a public room and he knows it. While we head upstairs, I contemplate exactly what to confess. I can’t tell him about me walking in on her naked tits. That would be fucking disrespectful.

He walks into my room ahead of me because it’s unlocked and I pull the door closed behind us and take a seat on the edge of my bed.

“I kissed her.”

He lets out a longer whistle this time.

“Fucking A.” He flops into my chair, an oversized marshmallow chair that’s about twenty years old but still as comfortable as heaven. “How the fuck did you manage that? Jesus, that’s crazy ballsy shit. Even for you.”

“What do you mean, even for me?” I turn to look at him. I know what he means, but it still bothers me that I have a rep because I’ve hardly done a thing to deserve it. Hell, my whole second year I dated one girl, Allie, and then all last year I spread myself around in an attempt to find someone who didn’t end up boring me or disappointing me. To no avail.

“Don’t get distracted. Answer my question. How’d you get away with kissing her? Or did she make the first move?” He leans forward, his voice edged with excitement.

“No. Nothing like that. And I’m not giving you a play-by-play. The point is, she—we agreed to pretend it never happened. And to make sure it never happens again.”

“So you need to find a new tutor?”

“No.”

“What?” He laughs. “That is so messed up. You’re out of control, dude. You need to watch yourself. Don’t set yourself up for a whole hell of trouble coming down on you if you start a thing with a coach. A fucking coach.” He shakes his head. I can’t tell if he’s horrified or excited and I know exactly how he feels.

“I’m aware.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to get a grip.”

“You’ll need a two-fister tonight.” I flip my middle finger at him. He’s grinning and I feel better because I know what I need to do—and I don’t mean I need to jack off.

I’m not some out-of-control asshole who lets his dick rule him, unlike my father. Everything will be fine. My life and future will remain intact if I can hold it together and exercise ironclad self-control. I’ve been good at it all my life. How hard could it be now?

“I’ll find someone else,” I say to him and myself.

“Good idea. There’s a party after the game Saturday at Kappa Kappa Gamma. They have a flood of hot new recruits according to Dooley.”

“And Dooley’s our expert on hot girls?” I snort even though I can’t fault the guy’s taste in women, gay or not. He always seems to hang out with the best of them.

“Don’t diss the Dools. He has more experience than all of us. Did you know this is his fifth year at SPU and he was a transfer student.”

“Shit, that’s crazy. Makes him almost old.”

“And wise. He’s working on his second Master’s degree. Maybe you should talk to him about—”

“No. Not one word of this to anyone else. Ever. We’re all forgetting it ever happened. I shared it with you because I needed to get it out of my head.”

“I got you. No worries. But if you have trouble forgetting, let me know.” I snort because I don’t even want to contemplate trouble. “I’m serious, man.” He leans forward. “This is a big deal. I mean think about it. You could get kicked off the team and you got your whole NFL career on the line here.”