Page 45 of I Want to Know What Love Is

Because no matter how much I’ve tried to convince myself that it’s just a grant, the requirement to escort his niece to parties and the Homecoming Ball are written into the contract for a reason. Because I’m being paid for it, so how am I better than an escort—albeit a very high priced one?

There’s also the clause about me making the public service announcement for his favorite cause, animal rescue, which is cool. But what are the chances the press will pay attention to that when they have a more salacious headline to beat their drums about?

And I’m not sure the privacy clause will stand up against the press or just make them more determined to find out the real story, more suspicious that I have something to hide.

After Lassiter calls the press conference over, I go back out to the corridor anxious to get to my car and run into Coach Ryan. He’s standing huddled with Amanda. I nod.

“Great job handling the reporters,” he says and I almost want to ask him who he is because the real coach Ryan doesn’t have a gracious bone in his body. But I keep my mouth shut and nod, hyper aware of Amanda’s eyes on me.

“You know Coach Lake of course,” he grins, then I discover the reason for his spectacular mood when he says, “We’re going out to dinner.” He says more, but I’m hardly paying attention. I meet her eyes and she gives me a challenging jut of her chin, as if she’s saying what are you going to do about it?

Not a god dam thing. And I hate it.

* * *

During a quick dinner with mom and Aunt Viola, I try to reassure them about the sponsorship deal, that it’s all good and I expect the money to be wired to my account soon, but I can’t tell them any details, except about the Animal Rescue PSA, so they’re suspicious.

“There has to be a catch, Dyllie. It’s just too good to be true,” mom says and Viola nods. I smile and pat her hand. Because there most certainly is a catch, but no way in hell would I tell my mother, not even if she made me swear on a stack of bibles.

“That’s because I’m too good to be true, Mom. Don’t you know?” They laugh and I manage to shut down that discussion for the night. I only wish I could shut down the speculation going on in my head about Amanda’s date with Coach Ryan. I’m ungracious enough to hope they’re having a terrible time and she’s gone home early.

By the time I get to BMOC House, the guys—Shelby, Jasper and Dooley—are waiting for me.

“Give me a sec to change.”

“I’ll give you a minute and chug down this beer,” Shelby says. I eye him as I pull off my button-down shirt and replace it with a black t-shirt. I pull on some black jeans and that completes my party uniform.

“Only two beers, Shel. How many have you had?”

“Two.” He says nothing else and I wonder if something’s up.

“Let’s get to Kappa Kappa Gama, Dooley says.”

“Yeah, let’s,” Shel says. “Heather’s texted me three times already wondering where you are.” He aims the comment at me. “She’s busy hiding in a corner—only because I talked her out of staying in her room.”

“That’s some timid little girl there,” Jasper says as we parade down the back stairs. There’s a big-ass cake sitting in the middle of the kitchen table, chocolate frosted and in the shape of a football, left by Majik.

“What’s it say on the cake?” I ask.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” Shel says. “It’s a congratulations to the big shot for getting to the Heisman short list.” I smack him on the back, hoping to get him out of his funk because it’s not like him.

“And I owe it all to you. My people.” He tries to smack me back, but I run and he gives chase as we all head to the party.

When we get there, Shelby spots Heather and we follow him to her.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” I’m not sure if she’s talking to me or Shelby because she glances between us both, but duh, she’s glad to see both of us of course. I introduces her Dooley as a campus legend and dramatist going for a Ph.D.

“I can introduce you to the football guys you haven’t already met and some of the hockey team too.” She nods and smiles.

“I hope you like jocks.” I’m half joking, but she shrugs and hesitates.

“I like you. And Shelby… but that’s because you’re nice… and hot. Not because of football.” Her confession surprises me because I could have sworn she was into me for my QB1 status when we first met.

“You forgot to mention how funny we are,” Shelby says. She laughs on cue and he winks at her, causing her to blush. “Being the nice guy, let me get us some refreshments.” He squeezes her shoulder and takes off.

“Tell me something, Heather. That first night we met, when you—” She covers her face.

“Don’t bring that up.” Embarrassment strangles her voice. I move her hands away from her face and with a finger under her chin, force her to look at me. “I was … tipsy that night. Not myself. I threw myself at you and I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to treat you disrespectfully.” She serious as fuck and I stop my smile because she’s too sweet to mock.