Page 80 of I Want to Know What Love Is

I lay in his arms like this all the way through the night until dawn and my eyes drift almost close. He kisses my temple.

“I’m falling for you, Mandy. All the way into love.” My eyes flutter open, wide.

“We talked about this, Dylan. You can’t—”

“Don’t,” he says, turning to the ceiling. “What the fuck will it take to prove it’s real?” I caress his cheek and turn his face back to look at me, needing to assuage his frustration, needing to bite my insensitive tongue off. But I have to be honest, it is still too soon for me to trust him. Because he’s so young. A deep sigh of longing forces me to tell him what I believe.

“Tell me same time next year and I’ll be convinced.” He turns to me.

“It’s a date, Coach.” He kisses my hand and my heart pounds, partly from being in my bed with him, partly still from fear.

“In the meantime, we need to keep it cool,” I say, trying not to panic. “You’re still a student here. And Emily still—”

“She won’t say anything.” He wraps me in his arms and I let his warmth surround me, but I can’t stop the growing return to reality, the little trills of fear from burning the edges of my optimism, my bliss.

“What makes you so sure?” He shakes his head and I know he’s not sure.

“Heather Harley promised to talk to Emily about it, about us. Heather understands the enormity of the situation. She’s a genuine romantic and it’s hard to resist her view when she embraces a subject. Emily’s a good kid and I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“You may as well be crossing your fingers behind your back with that statement, but I hope to hell you’re right.” I gulp down my fear and say, “I think it’ll take a lot more than a talk with Heather.” Guilt rises up and I let it have a say. “I owe Emily an apology. And a whole lot more.” He pulls me tighter, forcing me to focus on him.

“Tomorrow.” He nuzzles my neck, the stubble of his chin sending shivers through me. He brushes his lips across my temple and the guilt vanishes in a rush of desire and emotions I can’t define.

“Tomorrow? Did you just pull a Scarlet O’Hara?” I laugh as he bats his eyelashes and I feel like the luckiest woman alive. Even if I do still have some work to do because Emily’s the key to everything now. She’s the key to Dylan not getting thrown off the team, expelled or worse, to me not getting fired in an apocalyptic scandal that could knock my career back to parks and rec basketball if I’m lucky. And beyond that, Emily is the key to the success of our basketball team and me getting the head-coach job next year. We have a long way to go before I can truly appreciate, without hesitation what I have with Dylan, and him holding me in his arms like there’s no tomorrow.

Chapter Thirty-One

Dylan

I returned to BMOC House before mid-night last night because the last thing I want to do is give anyone a reason for gossip. I’m still a student here for a few more weeks and I need to behave, to protect Amanda’s reputation as much as possible. But I barely doze off and on all night, worried about Emily and what she might say to Dean Lassiter. He’s already suspicious and not nearly as understanding as Coach Radz or Reverend Church.

Before I head down for breakfast, my gut flinching at facing the guys, telling them about my decision to leave, I pick up my phone to call Heather. I need to find out how her conversation with Emily went. But as soon as I see my phone filled with social media alerts, texts and missed calls, I close my eyes. “No. Fucking. Way.”

Someone leaked the news of my transfer. Fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck. There’s a pounding on my door quickly followed by Shelby bursting into my room with Jasper and Bane on his heels.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Shelby shouts in my face, fists clamped at his side, face a combination of disbelief and outrage. And hurt.

“I’m sorry—”

“Sorry? That’s what you have to say?”

“Are you saying this shit is true? You’re leaving the team?” He shakes his head when I meet his eyes, confirming with a nod. “What gives, man?” Jasper is in the dark and more confused than anything.

Bane laughs. Of course he does. “I don’t fucking believe this,” he says. “Just when I was getting to like you.” I think he means it though he’s trying to twist his face into a smirk. I know it’s bad when even Bane feels betrayed by my leaving. Because by rights, he should be happy. It means the starting spot is al his next season. Hell, maybe even for the bowl game.

When I put my hands up, Jasper’s eyes widen and Bane opens his mouth. They’re staring at my bruised, swollen hand.

“What the fuck?” Jasper bellows. Shelby gives a derisive snort.

“Oh yeah. Our hero nearly destroyed his hand over—”

“That’s enough, Shel.” He shuts up and I know he’s talking out of hurt, a sense of betrayal.

“My hand will be fine.”

“What the fuck did you do?” Bane says. “Correction—who the fuck did you punch and I hope it was worth it.” I nod. He’s smiling, but he’s the only one. The benefit of my leaving sinking in, dawning on him.

“Don’t worry, Bane,” Shelby says. “He’ll be good to play on Saturday. Hell, coach’s gotta give him his last shot at playing for the Wildbeasts.” He meets my eyes. “Does coach know.”