For Your Love (22 page)

“I really have to study. There will be other rallies.”

“This is an important one—”

“Yeah, they’re all important, but I need to keep my grades up or else I’ll lose my chance for a residency. I worked too hard to let that happen and you know it.” Amber began to gather her books.

“You study way too much. You need to have some fun. The nuns at school back home had more of a life than you.” Shawna folded her arms across her ample bosom and tapped her foot. “You’re coming, whether you like it or not. Don’t piss me off.”

A beeping sound was heard, signaling a new text on Shawna’s phone. Amber watched as her dorm mate replied. Arguing with Shawna was futile and Friday was several days off. That girl could be as ornery as a wildcat and Amber was in no mood for another confrontation with anyone. She waited for Shawna to finish her reply before speaking. “Gotta go to class. See you later.”

“Maybe,” Shawna replied, eyes still glued to her iPhone.

* * *

On Friday night the excitement sparked in the air like electricity. The campus was abuzz and psyched up as everyone geared up for the big football game against Michigan the following day. Shawna wasn’t exaggerating when she called the rally important. It was the most important one of the year. The two rival schools met this time every year to duke it out on the football field.

Amber reluctantly agreed to accompany Shawna to the rally. There was no way to change Shawna’s mind once she decided on something. Her stubborn determination was as unbending as iron. The girls, joining the endless stream of other students, made their way to the football field.

The bleachers were filling quickly and they had to climb to reach the empty seats. Some idiot tossed a beach ball, of all things, across the bleachers. When another just-as-bright person dove to catch it, he caused a chain reaction of falling bodies. Amber was shoved hard and fell sideward off her seat. Eyes closed tightly and arms flailing, as if attempting to fly, she landed several rows below in a soft lap.

“
You
? This is effing unbelievable!” A deep voice rumbled.

Amber opened her eyes and gasped as she looked up with disbelief into the amused eyes of the man into whose lap she had fallen. How she wished she could be beamed up by Scotty in
Star Trek
. Of all the laps in the bleachers, how the hell did she end up in Casanova’s lap?

Amber struggled to raise herself up and flee. Only he was holding her down.

“Let me go!” Amber continued to struggle.

“Nope. Not a chance.” He appeared to be enjoying himself.

“I’ll scream,” Amber threatened.

“Go ahead,” he replied smugly. “I doubt anyone will hear you through all this noise.”

“Look, I’m really sorry about the other day—the accident…the door in your face… I didn’t mean to be nasty,” she pleaded.

“Yes, you did.”

“Well—maybe the door in the face…a little bit.”

“Glad you admit it. Now how about declaring a truce?”

Amber frowned. “Do we have to?”

He began to laugh. Amber couldn’t believe it. He thought it was all so very funny. The person sitting to his right behind him leaned forward and Amber could see Shawna waving at her. No not really waving, but giving her the thumbs-up sign.

“Okay, you had your laugh. Let me go.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Amber was at a loss for words. His arms were strong and the feel of his muscled thighs against her bottom was sending tingling feelings through her. That and a suspicious bulge nestling against her lower back. “Why won’t you let me go?”

“Because, for one thing, the rally is about to start and there’s no place for you to go,” he said, flashing a dimpled smile that could melt the coldest of hearts.

Amber looked around her. He was right. The bleachers were filled to capacity. “What’s the other thing?”

“We have to seal our truce,” he murmured as his lips covered hers.

Chapter Two

Instinctively, Amber raised her hand to slap his face, but the kiss did more than catch her by surprise. It sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl and instead her arm found its way around his neck.

He must have felt something, as well, for when the kiss finally ended, he gazed into her soft, brown eyes wordlessly. Finally, he broke his gaze. “Oops! That just happened. Does that nullify our newly minted truce?”

“Do you do that often?”

“No. I’m not some serial kisser.”

“Too bad. You really should bottle it,” she replied.

“Then we’re still okay?”

She nodded. “That kiss was some conversation stopper. I’m Amber Bennington, by the way.”

He smiled. “Dillon MacAllister. I’ve never worked so hard to meet a girl.”

“It wasn’t too easy for me, either.”

“But, I was the one with egg on my face, remember?”

Amber laughed. “That’s true. For which I shall be eternally sorry. I should’ve been looking where I was going.”

“Apology accepted. So, tell me, who is Amber Bennington?”

“I’m a physical therapist major, finishing next spring. I’m hoping to get a clinical residency in Orthopedics. What about you, Dillon?”

“I’m in my fourth year of the DVM program, specializing in surgery.”

“That’s a Doctor of Veterinarian Medicine, right?”

He nodded, smiling.

“That’s super.”

“You like animals?”

“Who doesn’t?” Amber replied emphatically. “Sometimes, I wished the world were inhabited by animals, rather than people who acted like animals.”

“Me, too,” he said, nodding. “Dogs, especially, give unconditional love. They don’t care who you are or how you look.”

A loud collective cheer erupted around them, drowning out all further conversation.

The rally had begun and Amber and Dillon were quickly swept up into the excitement.

* * *

After the rally, Dillon asked Amber if she’d like to meet him at the library the following afternoon. They could study together and then afterward, perhaps have some dinner. Dillon seemed nice and studying at the library sounded okay with her, so she agreed. Being just friends with him would be acceptable, she reasoned, thinking about her mother’s antipathy to white men.

Amber had never dated a white guy. Her mother had often told her that white boys tended to only want to
play
with black girls. Mainly, they wanted to have a taste of the “sweet brown sugar”— not marry them. When she was growing up, Amber hardly ever came in contact with white boys, so her mother’s philosophy was moot. It wasn’t until she entered Ohio State University that she encountered them, and though they seemed pleasant enough, she still kept her distance. Actually, she remained aloof from everyone, studying more than trying to attract dates.

Now that she met Dillon, Amber found herself concerned over her own actions and not his. She was very attracted to him. There was something about him that made him quite appealing. Was it because he was supposedly the “forbidden fruit” her mother had warned her against? She tried to convince herself it was only because she hadn’t dated in a long time, but that didn’t work. Worst of all her mental arguments made her think about him more. Her mind replayed a picture of Dillon over and over again in her head as she changed into her pajamas and got ready for bed. She kept visualizing his eyes—so vividly green, unlike any color she’d ever seen on a person before. And when he smiled at her, she tingled inside. And it was a sensation Amber liked.

Dillon had walked her all the way to her dorm. He had said goodnight and given her an innocent peck on the cheek. Amber’s heart tripped as she watched him walk away. It was apparent that he had no ulterior intentions. She wondered why she was a bit disappointed. Maybe he only wanted to be friends. That’s what she wanted too, wasn’t it? That would take the decision and worry out of her hands. She went inside and found the dorm empty — not that she was surprised. Shawna often didn’t come back after a date.

Amber slipped into bed. The feel of Dillon’s lips seemed imprinted on her cheek. She could hardly sleep that night knowing that she was going to meet Dillon the following afternoon.

* * *

Shawna was back in the dorm by the time Amber returned from breakfast at the cafeteria the next day.

“You’re first getting back from last night?” Amber asked, realizing it was a stupid question, one that she regretted the moment the words left her mouth.

“When did you become such a mother hen, Amber?”

Amber pursed her lips. “Sorry, didn’t mean to come off like that.”

Then Shawna was all smiles. “Last night, I met this guy named Steve. He comes from Cincinnati. And from what I saw at the rally, you didn’t do too badly, yourself.”

Amber began to tell her about Dillon, but Shawna yawned and leaned back on her bed. A moment later, she was sound asleep. Amber rolled her eyes and grinned at her roommate. She stuffed her books into her messenger bag, grabbed her coat and purse, and left for the library to meet Dillon. On the way, she called her mother to say hello, knowing that Aretha liked to hear from her at least once a week.

She wanted to tell her mother about Dillon, but thought better of it. Aretha would ask her a hundred questions about him. Amber feared letting on that he was white and having her jump to conclusions, before preparing her. Then again, chances were she and Dillon would remain just friends, so why distress the woman in the first place? So they had the usual conversation. Amber was studying hard and her grades were good. Aretha was fine and already at work. It was a brief conversation and they said goodbye.

When Amber arrived at the library’s front door Dillon was already there. He greeted her with a bright smile, which immediately sent warmth through her body.

“Somehow, I knew you’d be early,” he said. “Personally, I couldn’t wait to see you again—to finish our conversation.”

“Maybe I just couldn’t wait to dive into the books.”

He chortled. “Yeah, tell me another whopper.”

“I don’t know, I thought I was pretty convincing.”

They went inside to a study area and sat down facing each other at a table. It was hard to keep her mind on anything else, but him, but Aretha’s words about white boys echoed in Amber’s head forcing her to concentrate on her work.

With taking only one break they studied all afternoon. More than once, Amber caught her mind wandering and found herself focusing more on the rugged good looks of her study partner than her work. She had to constantly remind herself that she only wanted to be his friend and nothing more. Graduation, acceptance first into the orthopedic clinical residency and then a job at a good rehab center or hospital was her endgame. But that wasn’t what truly mattered most. Getting her mother into a better neighborhood and helping her retire was.

Afterward, they had burgers and fries at a small pub. As they were eating, someone fed some coins into the jukebox. Subconsciously, Amber began to move to the beat.

“You seem into the music. I’ll bet you like to dance, too,” Dillon said.

Her face heated. She hadn’t realized she was moving to the music. She tamped down her embarrassment. “I love to dance.”

He grinned. “That’s good to know, because I do, too.”

“What else do you like to do?”

“I like to ski. Have you ever gone skiing?”

“No. Which is probably a good thing. I’d hate to break a leg,” she replied glibly.

Dillon chuckled. “You don’t always break a leg, you know. It’s not a requisite.”

Amber smiled. She then changed the subject. “I meant to ask, do you come from Ohio?”

“No. I’m originally from Mooreland, Indiana, which is a small farming area.”

“I wouldn’t take you for a farmer.”

“
I’m
not. My father is.”

Amber couldn’t help but notice the subtle change in his tone. “You sound angry.”

“I haven’t spoken to my father in nearly seven years.”

“That must be awful. My mother expects a call from me once a week. If I miss a call, I get one from her and a good scolding. Would I be overstepping if I asked you what happened between you and your father to cause such a rift?”

“Before I answer, let me ask you a question,” Dillon said.

“Sure.” Amber took a sip of her beer.

“How does your mother feel about your becoming a physical therapist?”

“She thinks it’s a great idea. Why do you ask?”

“Did you choose to be a physical therapist or was it her suggestion?”

“It was mine.” Amber began to sense where this conversation was heading.

“At least your mother didn’t decide how you were going to live your life. She gave you the chance to decide what you wanted to become.” Dillon’s handsome face clouded.

“Didn’t your father want you to become a veterinary doctor?”

“Not by a long shot. His grand scheme was for me to take over the farm when he retired. You see, I come from a long line of farmers. I had an older brother in the reserves who was killed in Afghanistan, though his body was never recovered.”

“I’m so sorry.” Amber didn’t know what else to say.

“Yeah. My big brother, Sean, was a good guy,” Dillon said, his eyes misting. He took a moment and sipped his beer before continuing. “After his death, it fell to me to keep the farm in the family and when I told my dad I wanted to become a veterinarian, he laughed. He didn’t understand that I didn’t share his love of the land. Because my dreams were different from his, our relationship grew strained, and finally, irrevocably cut when I was accepted to Ohio State.”

“How awful. Your dad sounds like a very stubborn man. You’d think he’d come around by now.”

“Stubborn isn’t the word. Not only didn’t my father come around, he disowned me.”

Amber was horrified. It would be awful if her mother ever disowned her. She reached over and laid her hand over his. “That’s harsh.”

“I don’t care that he even cut me out of his will. That part I could live with. But the fact that he refuses to recognize me as his son truly hurts. You see, my old man won’t even talk to me.”

“I can’t believe he hasn’t seen or spoken to you in so many years.”

“Believe me. I must have tried to contact him at least a hundred times.”

“I do. But, how does your mother feel about this?” Amber asked.

“My mother died from cancer when I was thirteen. All I have left is my dad.” Dillon’s voice was rough with emotion. Amber felt his pain as her heart immediately went out to him.

“I’m so sorry, Dillon.” She gently squeezed his hand.

He grimaced. “Me, too, but it doesn’t change a thing.”

“So, how do you pay for school?”

“My grandfather left me a trust fund, which my father can’t touch. I knew he’d never allow me to go to school, let alone pay for it, so I’ve been living off of that and do some tutoring on the side to raise extra money.”

“If it weren’t for my scholarship I wouldn’t be here, either.”

“You know…I’ve wanted to become a veterinarian ever since my pet turtle died. He knew that. Why couldn’t he understand?”

Amber shook her head. She could see how committed Dillon was just by looking into his eyes. She felt the same commitment, but was lucky her mother had encouraged her. “They say that time heals all wounds. Hopefully, when you start to practice, your father will come around. He’ll see how happy you are treating sick animals and understand it’s a good thing. A thought just occurred to me.”

“What’s that?” Dillon asked.

“On your farm, did you have any animals?”

“I know why you’re asking. It’s not that kind of farm. The only animals raised are hogs for slaughter. Basically, the farm produces soybeans and grain corn.”

“So I take it your father really never used a veterinarian to care for the hogs.”

Dillon shook his head. He took one last sip of his beer and put down the mug. “This conversation has become too damn depressing. Let’s get out of here. I feel like dancing and know just the place.”

The place that Dillon had in mind wasn’t too far away. It was a step up from the usual type of bar found near a college and didn’t look too seedy. It catered to an older crowd and its jukebox played generally quieter music.

Amber was still trying to wrap her mind around Dillon’s bad relationship with his father, when he led her to the small dance floor and wrapped his arms around her. She wasn’t at all ready for the rush of sensations that quickly enveloped her. When was the last time she felt this way with a guy? Every time his eyes met hers, her heart turned over.

They were moving to a slow dance. Dillon held her close—so close she wasn’t sure whose heart she felt beating. She found his cheek soft and his after shave quite pleasant smelling. It reminded her of freshly laundered towels. She nearly laughed at her silly comparison, but the thought didn’t stifle her desire to snuggle and rub her face in his neck. What the devil was wrong with her? She shouldn’t have such thoughts about him. And yet, she couldn’t stop her heart from thudding in her chest.