Page 37 of I Want to Know What Love Is

“You said you only wanted him for a one-off date.”

“I said one-night-stand, and I’d rather sleep with my vibrator, but I can’t take that to a wedding as my date. Or I could, but I’m not old enough or rich enough or successful enough to get away with it.”

“Not yet anyway,” Brook says and then breaks into a fit of laughter. “You know who I’d take if I wanted to impress the socks off Gary and his stuffy people?”

“Who?” I heat up with little fires lighting up my nerves in warning because deep inside me, below my consciousness, under the layers of baggage and overthinking, I know whose name she’s going to say. It’s the name that lurks deep in my head and won’t go away, the guy I really want to have a hot night of sex with more than anyone I can remember in a very long time.

“That young hunk Dylan Jones—Jonesy. Whew.” She fans herself and then wiggles her brows. “Besides, it was obvious you two have a connection. The air sizzled so hot I wanted to strip to my—”

“I get the picture. Don’t say it.” I ignore her insinuation, her airing of my fantasy as if it’s a big joke, because how could a sane person take it seriously?

“Well?” she prods and I roll my eyes.

“You’re kidding, right? He’s the fantasy date, I’ll give you that. But I need a real date for the wedding.”

“Or you could not show up and give Gary a taste of his own medicine.” I laugh because the idea has appeal. But I can’t do it because I’m not Gary. I hope I’m better than him, at least in this one case. Plus, what if I’m wrong about him not going through with his threat to my job? “Besides, why is Dylan Jones a fantasy date? He looks real enough to me and perfect for one night of—”

“Do I have to point out the obvious flaw with taking the young hunk to a wedding? He’s a student. Hello?”

She shrugs, surprising the hell out of me. “So. He’s not your student, is he?”

“Technically, yes. I’m tutoring him in finance.”

“Is that right? Very interesting? Does he know about Gary and your… unfortunate engagement and very fortunate disengagement?” I laugh because she has a way of putting things in perspective.

And she’s right. I’m very lucky I didn’t end up with Gary because he’s not the man I imagined him to be, not what his façade promised once I got past the veneer of decency. Sure, he’s not a monster, but he’s weak of character—muscles too, now that I think of it—and weak character is a no-go for me.

“Somehow I haven’t been able to work getting left at the altar into the discussion of internal rate of return.” She shoves my elbow and pouts.

“Be serious.”

“You be serious. He’s a kid and I need a man.”

“I thought you needed a hunk? A kid who looks like a man should work. I think he’d impress the hell out of half the attendees of the wedding—the female half.” I snort.

“With my luck he’ll take numbers and end up spending the night with half the bridesmaids while I spend the night with my vibrator.”

“Not if you play your cards right.” My sister’s back to wiggling her brows again.

“No. We’re not going there. I don’t need advice on how to get a student to sleep with me. I’m pretty sure I could handle that.” I don’t tell her the real problem is how do I keep myself from letting him sleep with me. Sleep being a euphemism for fuck me into oblivion until I’m paralyzed and can do nothing but sleep afterward. “It’s against policy and generally accepted social decency at any university that the faculty and coaching staff are not supposed to fraternize with the students. Period. End of story. And I’m not up for getting fired—”

“I know all about the old non-frat policy. Hello? I married my professor. And he still has his job.”

“You were a senior and you’re way sneakier than I am. You were also very lucky you didn’t get caught while you were still a student.” She rolls her eyes.

“They wouldn’t have done a thing. I was twenty-one, not a helpless teen. How old is Jonesy?”

“Let me repeat—it’s not allowed. And Jonesy isn’t an obscure student—nothing personal—he’s the face of SPU’s elite athletic program right now. So…”

“Wow. He sounds like quite a catch.”

“Every girl on campus agrees with you.”

Brook sighs. “Fine. You have valid points, but I still think you could pull it off. First, I’d bet anything he’d be willing, because massive parades of girls throwing themselves at him or not, he’s into you. I can tell. And second, the wedding is on Long Island, far away from New Hampshire. No one would ever know.”

“Unless one of the wedding guests or servers or who-knows-who follows college football, then they’ll know Dylan Jones. He’s a high-profile athlete and the sports reporters are starting to talk about him for the Heisman.” She blows out a whistle, then pauses, her face softening as she stares at me like she’s expecting me to break down and cry or something, which I never do.

“You’re right. But it’s just that… I saw with my own eyes the sparks fly between you two. And I was so excited for you, because I never in my life saw you like that with a guy. Not with Gary even when you were first dating and not with any of the hunky guys you dated in high school and college.” She sighs. “You two made me so hot I practically jumped my husband as soon as our bedroom door closed last night.”