Page 61 of I Want to Know What Love Is

“I want to know what love is because I don’t know. But I do know you can’t tell me because you’re nothing but an inexperienced kid. Go back to your date, Dylan.” I can hardly breathe and I stare at him, watch the pain and hurt on his face gloss over to a fierce look and I don’t know what that means. My lips quiver and my gut churns. I’m hurting as much as he is, maybe more.

It kills me, squeezes my chest into uselessness because I can’t do anything about it. Dooley’s cameras will come looking for him any second. If they catch me with him, it’s all over.

He stares and doesn’t move, so I push as hard as I can.

“Go back to your date, Dylan and stay away from me. You can’t… we can’t do this. Not ever again.”

I whirl around and leave, blindly rushing back to my safe haven. What pathetic thing does that say about me?

I go back to Coach Ryan—Kevin, I should think of him as Kevin, but it’s hard because I don’t want to lead him on, I only want to be his friend. Avoiding his eyes, I don’t want him to see whatever is on my face because I feel so out of control, like a cornered animal, threatened to my core.

Love? How dare Dylan talk of love, or even the possibility of it? But my heart thuds too fast still and I can’t settle down because he’s struck a nerve and I can’t afford that. I can’t afford any feelings for the young man because it would be career suicide. I reach the table and avoid Kevin’s eyes.

“Let’s get out of here,” I say. “You’ve put in your appearance. Let’s get dinner.”

“Sure, I can leave now.” He stands and immediately smothers me with an arm around my back and leans into me with his mouth near my ear. I struggle to reclaim space without making it obvious. He says, “But I was hoping we’d go back to my place—”

“Not tonight.” Without looking at his face because I don’t want to see his disappointment, I walk from his half-embrace and he follows. I should have known better than to come with him tonight. It encouraged him to think there might be something more between us. I should know better than to think he would be okay with palling around. I almost laugh derisively at myself as I take my coat from the rack and he catches up to me.

“Hold up, what’s the hurry all of a sudden?”

“I don’t feel good.”

His face softens because if I look half as miserable as I feel, I look like a truck hit me.

“You do look pale. What is it?” I want to scream at him that I’m heart-sick, but I manage a sad smile and a small shake of my head.

“You don’t want to know.” I let him jump to his conclusion that it’s a women’s thing because it’s mysterious enough and yet real enough for him to stop his questioning dead. I’m right. He goes a shade paler and nods.

“Right.” He helps me on with my coat suddenly treating more like his maiden aunt than a hot date and relief, albeit guilty relief, soothes me because the only thing worse would be if I were forced to try and be good company for the rest of the evening. Even dinner would be impossible to eat right now with him and I love food. Because the whole time I’d be thinking of one forbidden student athlete and the feel of his lips against mine—both sets. “You want to go home? I’ll understand if…”

I nod and lead him out the door and when we get to my house and he stops the car, I turn to him and say, “We have to talk.” His face falls and I feel like the worst cliché.

“Don’t tell me—you’re serious about being just friends.” He gives a derisive snort and looks away from me.

“Yes, but the best of friends, Kevin. We have so much in common. And… I need someone to pal around with.” He looks at me.

“You do? For real?” I nod.

“It’s been kind of lonely being the new one on staff here, from out of town. I don’t know anyone except students. And I can hardly pal around with them, can I?” I hold my breath, hoping he doesn’t ditch me. He studies me and I make one last plea. “I could really use a friend.” He blows out a breath.

“Who couldn’t?” He smiles. “I’m not the kind of guy who’s going to shut down a friendship. I learned my lesson the hard way that good friends are worth more than gold.”

“You’ll have to tell me that story some time,” I say because I hear his heart ache. He laughs.

“After the season because it’ll involve a lot of whiskey and a long night.” He nods at me. “You’re good people Amanda Lake.”

“You too, Kevin Ryan.” I reach for the handle and then turn back to him. “By the way, did you know you have a super fan?”

“What are you talking about?” He scoffs.

“A lovely young lady—adorable actually—in the Finance office. She goes to all the games and asked me about you.”

“Is that right?” His eyes light up because flattery works like a miracle drug on him.

“Yeah---how’d you like to meet her some time?”

“I... think I would.”