Dating the Quarterback (The Bet Duet Book 2)

by Maggie Dallen

  “Yes, of course I am. Do you know any other Janices?”

  I stared at her. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

  Her cheeks grew flushed and I had a suspicion it was from anger and not embarrassment. “I can’t believe I actually thought…” She exhaled loudly. “I can’t believe I actually fell for it. Again.”

  “Fell for what?” I threw my hands in the air. “Help me out here, Harley. I’d like to make you feel better, and I’d love it if you didn’t see me as some sort of devil in disguise…” I didn’t try to hide my sarcasm. “But honestly, I don’t even know what I’ve done wrong, Harley.”

  “You let me think you actually liked me!”

  There was silence in the car after her outburst. I didn’t know which was more shocking. The words or her tone—I’d never heard her lose her cool like that before. I’d never heard tears in her voice and the sound of it ripped me apart.

  “I do like you.” I didn’t know what else to say. It was the truth, and all my anger had faded the instant I heard the hurt in her voice.

  “You don’t know me,” she said, still holding on to anger like it was her job. I didn’t know whether to hug her or shake her, she was so infuriatingly stubborn and so frustratingly sweet and so adorably naïve.

  “I was hoping to get to know you,” I said slowly, hoping to take the intensity out of this car with a well-modulated tone. “I thought that was the point of dating.”

  She stared at me for so long, I thought she might not speak. “The point of dating,” she repeated quietly. “That’s a weird thing to say.”

  “What do you think the point of dating is?” I asked.

  She frowned. “I don’t know, I guess it depends on the person. For some people it’s to get close to someone, for others it’s to gain status, and for other people it’s just to get laid, I’d imagine.”

  “And you thought I fell into which category, exactly?” Amusement crept into my voice because even though she was driving me nuts…I kind of loved that she was driving me nuts. She was the first girl I’d ever met who somehow slipped through all the surface stuff. Like her tiny little body had found a crack in the armor that first day I’d met her and now she had her own little entrance.

  She eyed me and I got the feeling she was looking at me for the first time since we left the diner. I let her look. I had nothing to hide. She licked her lips and my eyes caught on the small movement. Awareness overtook me in a heartbeat and for a second there I forgot I was trying to be all noble and up on my high horse because all I could think about was kissing her.

  She pressed her lips together like she knew exactly what I was thinking and my gaze shot up to meet hers.

  “Okay, fine,” she finally said. “If you didn’t make a bet about me then what were Danny and his friend talking about?”

  I sighed with weary resignation as I told her the short, utterly boring and totally stupid story of Danny and his buddies’ locker room talk.

  “I didn’t encourage them,” I said with a shrug. “I didn’t go along with it, but they didn’t seem to notice.”

  She bit her lower lip and narrowed her eyes. “That sounds…believable.”

  “That’s because it’s the truth.”

  “So, you actually…” She cleared her throat and fidgeted with the hem of her sweatshirt. “You actually wanted to…”

  “Go out with you,” I finished on her behalf. “Yes.”

  Her cheeks turned a stunning shade of pink. “Oh.” She cleared her throat. “And now?” she asked. “What do you want now?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Please.” She nodded quickly. “Please be honest with me.”

  I heard something like desperation in her voice and it nearly killed me. I shifted closer and put my hand over hers to stop her fidgeting. “Honestly, I’d still like the chance to get to know you. And also…” I want to kiss you. I swallowed down an inexplicable surge of nerves.

  “Also, what?” It came out as a whisper, all breathy and high, and in that moment I knew that she wanted it too. Or at least, I hoped she did. Either way, I was about to find out.

  I leaned in slowly. So achingly, painfully slowly so she would have every chance to back up, to push me away. But as I leaned in even closer, I saw her eyes darken, her eyelids grow heavy with desire, her lips part…

  And then I was kissing her, and I lost touch with reality for a long, sweet, blissful moment. She was warm and soft beneath me, her lips parting for mine like this was something we’d always done. It was familiar and totally, shockingly, perfectly new. She tasted like honey, and when I cupped her face in my palms, she let out a sigh that I’d hear in my dreams for the rest of my life.

  Her hands flittered near my shoulders before clutching me, her hands fisting in my shirt as the kiss intensified.

  I could have kissed her forever but I was also painfully aware that she was inexperienced and fragile, even if she’d never admit it. I let her go gently, reluctantly. We were both panting for air when I rested my forehead against hers.

  “That was…wow,” she said.

  I felt a grin tugging my lips and I laughed under my breath. “That was definitely wow.”

  She pulled back a bit and I let her go. “I’m not laughing at you.”

  Her eyes were wary but she nodded. I swear, if I could go back to her old town and beat the crap out of whoever had hurt her, I would. As it was, I found myself running a thumb over her lower lip. “I wish you would trust me, Harley. I’m not about to hurt you.”

  She nodded again, swallowing visibly. It wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement but I’d take what I could get.

  I smiled, hoping to make her smile in return. “Did you seriously think that I would make a bet about you?” I shook my head. “I promise I’m not that cruel, and not that immature.”

  It was hard to tell in the dark shadows of the car, but her pale skin seemed to grow even paler. Her eyes were as wide as saucers and her gaze was everywhere but on me.

  I held back a weary sigh. I’d have to go slow—I’d known that from the start with her. But this was progress, right? “Harley, are you okay?” I asked.

  Her smile looked forced. “Yeah, just…thinking.”

  “About?”

  “Conner.”

  I blinked. She was thinking about her stepbrother? Now? Awesome. I cleared my throat. “Look, I know you’re probably worried, but I won’t let anything happen to him.”

  Her expression was hard to read. She looked pained and pleased and sweet and tender and hurt all at the same time. “I know.” She said it so softly I almost missed it. Almost. But I’d heard it and I had this overwhelming urge to beat my chest like a caveman.

  Harley might still have her hang-ups about me, about us…but at least she was coming around. I could be patient.

  She licked her lips and glanced up at me. “I should probably check in on him though. Do you mind…I mean, could you please take me home?”

  “Sure thing, Harley.” I said it with a smile that I hoped hid the fact that I was disappointed. We’d just shared a kiss that rocked my world. We’d finally addressed the fact that I liked her and that maybe she could potentially trust me not to hurt her.

  We were making progress…or so I thought.

  Now, it seemed, we were heading home.

  10

  Harley

  I was the worst person on the planet.

  Seriously. Like...the worst.

  “You kissed him?” Janice asked.

  I fidgeted with the paintbrush in my hand as I tried to analyze her expression. “Technically, he kissed me.”

  It was Wednesday—nearly a week had passed and I was only now getting around to spilling my guilty guts.

  That kiss had been perfection. It might have been my first real kiss, but I knew without a doubt that it was the best kiss I would ever have. There was no way I’d ever experience a better kiss.

  It might have been the perfect night if guilt hadn’t washed over me and
left me ready to run home and hide under my covers. First, there was the fact that I’d accused him of betting on me. Not only had I been wrong? I’d been a hypocrite. The only jerk who made bets about people and played with their emotions was me. I was the jerk in the car, not him.

  Who’d do something like that? he’d asked.

  Me. I would. Because I was the jerk.

  I’d known right then and there that I couldn’t even face Tristan again until I’d called off the bet, which was easier said than done. Conner would never let me live it down if I explained that I’d actually gone and developed a crush on Tristan after swearing up and down that I didn’t have feelings for him.

  Turned out, I hadn’t had needed to call it off. Conner came to his senses this week too and on Tuesday he’d called it off so I didn’t have to explain why I’d had a change of heart.

  But then there’d been Janice. The moment the kiss ended, I’d been awash in shame. I knew exactly how it felt to have a crush. She was the closest thing to a friend I had in this school and I hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings.

  I kept watching her now, waiting for her to realize that her heart was breaking and it was all my fault. Instead, she leaned forward and gripped my arms so tightly it hurt. “Do you know what this means?”

  “Um…that I kissed your crush and am the worst mural painting partner you could ever imagine?”

  She blinked and then let out a snort-laugh so loud it was impossible not to join in with her laughter, even though it was clearly at my expense. “You thought I’d be mad?”

  I nodded. “I would be,” I added with a shrug.

  She rolled her eyes and waved off my concerns with a flip of her hand. “Oh please. I got over that fantasy years ago.”

  “Seriously?”

  She nodded. “Of course. I mean, don’t get me wrong…I still like to admire him from a distance, but I don’t hold any hopes that he’ll suddenly see me and fall in love.” She shrugged. “It’s just not meant to be.”

  “His loss,” I said.

  She grinned and leaned over. “You don’t even get it. I love that he kissed you. That means…” She shook her head. “It means there’s hope for all of us outcasts. It means…it means…” She gripped my arms again and gave me a shake. “It means you’re living the dream!”

  I laughed at her excitement. “I don’t know about that.”

  We both heard the locker room doors open at the same time.

  I froze at the sound. It was the football team coming out to practice, which meant…he was in the vicinity. Without even meaning to, I found myself seeking out hiding spots.

  “Wait,” Janice said slowly, watching me with a suspicious look. “Was that why you’ve been hiding from him the past few days?”

  “I haven’t been—” I stopped mid-protest as she arched her brows in disbelief. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’ve been…” Hiding. “Avoiding.”

  She laughed. “You ran into a storage closet this morning when you thought you’d seen him coming.”

  I sighed. Okay fine. Maybe I’d been hiding. I fidgeted uncomfortably as I tried to subtly see who was coming out of the locker rooms. Was I proud of my behavior? No. But in my defense, I had some stuff to work out before I could face Tristan. There’d been Conner and Janice and….

  And now all my excuses were officially null and void.

  “You were avoiding him because of me?” Janice sounded horrified.

  “Um, that was one of the reasons.”

  “Harley!” She squealed my name with such disbelief, I winced.

  “Sorry?” I said.

  She smacked my arm. Hard. “I want you to go out with him,” she insisted. “For both of our sakes. But you have to tell me everything when you do.”

  I tried to smile but panic made it difficult. There he was. He’d left the locker room and was heading toward me, his eyes focused on me like a laser.

  I couldn’t move for the life of me, not even when Janice made up some lame excuse about suddenly and desperately having to go to the bathroom before bolting, leaving me there dangling in the wind.

  I made a mental note to smack her just as hard as she’d smacked me the next time I saw her.

  Then he was striding straight toward me and I forgot all about Janice. I forgot what I was doing there standing next to an incomplete mural and why I was holding a paintbrush in my hands. All I could think about was that kiss.

  He stopped in front of me, so close I could smell his scent, which was some heady combination of soap and pheromones, and I feared for a moment I might drool if he didn’t take a step back.

  He didn’t move back, he just stood there looking like a god as he planted his hands on his hips. “Harley,” he said slowly.

  “Yes?”

  “Have you been avoiding me?”

  I bit my lip. “No?”

  “Is that a question?” The amusement in his eyes made my insides melt into a pile of goo at the bottom of my belly.

  I cleared my throat. “No, I’ve just been…very busy.”

  “Uh huh.” He didn’t look convinced, and with good reason. A social butterfly I was not. I’d spent the better part of the last few days sitting in my room pretending to read romance novels while my brain relived that kiss over and over again.

  It never got old.

  “Hey, Tristan!” one of his friends called from the field. “You coming or what?”

  He ignored his friend, never looking away from me. “I should go.”

  I nodded. “You’ve got practice.”

  “Are you coming to the game on Friday?”

  I blinked and stopped myself just in time before I said something like ‘are you kidding me right now?’ Instead, I managed a far more tactful, “Football isn’t really my thing.”

  Yup. There was that laughter in his eyes, making his whole being seem warmer and more welcoming even though he didn’t so much as smile. “Have you ever been to a game?”

  “Um…”

  “So how do you know it’s not your thing?”

  Really? He was going there? “I don’t like group events,” I said.

  “Uh huh,” he said, sounding totally unconvinced. His gaze flickered over to the mural that was mostly sketches at this point. “So, like, an art exhibit opening or a concert. You’d never go, right?”

  I let out a huff of amusement. “Okay, fine. I should have said I’m not a fan of the whole herd mentality.”

  “Now that’s harsh,” he said. But his lips quirked up and it was impossible to think about this conversation when all I could think about was how those lips had felt when pressed against mine. He took a step closer. “What if the herd is having fun?”

  “Then someone is probably getting hurt.” The moment I said it, I knew I’d said too much. He looked at me with such understanding and tenderness, it came way too close to pity. I cleared my throat again and looked toward the field. “I mean, that’s what happens out there on the field right? Isn’t that what football is all about?”

  He laughed softly and shook his head. “Not exactly.”

  “Then I guess I just don’t get the point of it,” I said.

  “That much is obvious,” he said, but that little twitch of his lips softened the comment and I found myself smiling at him in return. Like we were in on a private joke. “Maybe if you came to a game you’d change your mind.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe.”

  He watched for a minute before drawing in a deep breath and letting out a loud sigh. “You are a strange one, Harley Brooks.”

  A laugh was startled out of me. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” And then, to my surprise, I found myself adding, “You’re kind of strange too, you know.”

  And just like that, I realized it was true. I mean, I’d known he was different, but as I’d been debating what to do with this mural, how to show the key players and their personalities, it had become clear that Tristan didn’t easily fit anywhere in the picture. He was such a major part of the team and the school, and y
et…he wasn’t a part of it at all. He was above it all—respected, admired, worshiped even—but he didn’t seem to truly belong.

  “Maybe that’s why I like you so much,” he said.

  I hoped beyond hope that he couldn’t see how much his words affected me but I was too busy trying to catch my breath to hide all my tells.

  He gave me the most amazing little smile before moving even closer. I held my breath, my heart leaping in my chest as I waited for him to kiss me again. Was he really going to kiss me? Here? In front of everyone?

  No. No, he wasn’t.

  When he was just inches away he leaned down and picked up a pen that was lying beside me. Without a word he reached for my hand, tugged it close and started writing.

  I hoped he couldn’t hear my breathing. It was coming quick and fast…alarmingly close to a pant, really. “W-what are you doing?”

  “This is my number,” he said, his voice low and rumbly, and so dang sexy I was pretty sure I’d swoon if he didn’t let go of my hand.

  I looked down at the numbers scribbled across my palm, afraid I’d break out in a sweat that would make the ink run instantly and gross us both out. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

  He closed my hand into a fist and gave it a little squeeze. “If you decide you want to go to the party after the game on Friday, let me know. I could give you a ride if you want.”

  To my horror, I couldn’t think of anything to say. Like…anything. My mind was a blank slate of fear and panic and excitement. Was this my life?

  I didn’t think so.

  Clearly I’d gone into a coma at some point and my subconscious was coming up with an elaborate romance-novelesque plotline for me. I’d wake up and discover that once again I was an unwanted outcast, that the hottie quarterback was actually the devil I’d always known he would be, and I would go back to hating high school and counting the days until graduation.

  It wasn’t until he let go of my hand that my brain started to work again.

  It wasn’t until he was on the field with the others that I was once again able to form words. Too late, obviously, and that was probably for the best. I might have been capable of speaking, but I had no clue what I was supposed to say.