Dating the Quarterback (The Bet Duet Book 2) Read online

  Dating the Quarterback

  The Bet Duet #2

  Maggie Dallen

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Audible Love

  About the Author

  1

  Harley

  The smell of cleaning products and sweaty socks had me wrinkling my nose as I walked the halls of what would be my new school come Monday morning. A locker slammed somewhere in the distance and I picked up my pace.

  I hadn’t even started at this new high school yet and I already hated it.

  It was too big, for one. I’d made my dad drive around the monstrosity of a building three times as I’d waited for the last students to leave after the final bell had rung so I could go to the office and pick up my class assignments. When he’d informed me that I couldn’t dally any longer—‘dally’ was obviously his word—I’d chosen this entrance. The main entrance would have the most stragglers coming out, and I was very much opposed to meeting my new classmates any sooner than I had to. This had seemed like the best side entrance to take, but now…

  I eyed the long hallway in front of me with its many side halls and baffling signs that were not even remotely helpful. E75-83. What did this tell me? Classrooms, maybe?

  Man, this place was huge. I was definitely going to get lost on Monday.

  I hadn’t even started yet and I was already lost. Something embarrassingly close to hysteria had me clenching and unclenching my fists as I took a deep breath.

  Do not panic. Just find the office, get the class assignments, and get out.

  Like I’d said, there was no way I was walking into my first day unprepared. It was bad enough that I had to start a new school mid-school year—it was even worse that I had to start with my new stepbrother, Conner, a guy who had that sort of natural charisma that made everyone love him.

  It made me want to gag, for the record.

  My black combat boots made a squeaking sound on the linoleum that put me on edge. Might as well have had a bell around my neck announcing my presence.

  “Go Bulldogs!” A banner next to me read. It was signed with girls’ names that had hearts over their i’s and lipstick kisses beside them.

  Gross.

  This was an athletics school. I supposed all high schools had sports, but not all of them took it seriously. Talmore High, my illustrious new school? It took its sports very seriously. I’d already known that from the research I’d done online, but seeing it with my own eyes made it hit home.

  I swallowed down nausea. Sports people didn’t like me. Yeah, sure, that was a sweeping generalization, but it was also a proven fact. People who got swept up in that sort of mass entertainment were typically joiners. I was not. They liked to laugh and drink beer and look alike and share the same thoughts and…

  Okay, fine, maybe I was just a little bit jaded for a sixteen-year-old. But jaded or not, I’d learned the hard way that I didn’t fit in with most people my age, and that was just fine by me.

  I jumped at the sound of a shout somewhere in the distance. The voice had a distinct ‘bro’ quality and the echoing effect made it sound like it was coming from a locker room.

  Which would explain the dirty feet smell in this hallway.

  Great, just great, I’d picked the entrance by the gym.

  As if on cue, a door swung open behind me with a loud clang and I let out a squeak of surprise. Deep male voices echoed off the tiles behind me. I couldn’t even look back. It was like one of those nightmares where you’re just frozen in fear and so I—Oh man, I don’t even want to admit to this.

  I dove into the nearest doorway.

  This was admittedly not my finest moment. I was panting. Like a dog. Also, this room I’d bolted into? It was not empty.

  Have I mentioned that this was not a proud moment for me?

  A giant, shirtless, wall of muscle sat upright on a bench a few feet away and the adrenaline in my system increased by one hundred percent. I could have sworn I heard a pop sound as my brain shorted out. My heart was pounding painfully in fear and embarrassment and…

  Okay, maybe something else contributed to the crazy tripping of my heart in my chest. But seriously, I was human. More than that, I was a teenager. Science will tell you that it wasn’t really my fault that my hormones reacted the way they did to the sight of this guy.

  This god.

  Seriously. Picture Thor, but with shorter hair and bright blue eyes.

  Did I mention he was shirtless?

  “Are you lost?” He was also clearly confused. And possibly amused. And oh holy cow, his voice was lovely. No, no. Lovely wasn’t right. It was hot. All low baritone with a hint of a rumble to it which made my hormones think of wicked dukes and wolves and shifters and—

  Yeah, okay fine, I’ve read a few romance novels in my day.

  Or a few thousand. Whatever.

  He swung one of those massive thighs over the bench he’d been straddling so he could face me head on.

  I wished he hadn’t done that. Any chance I’d had to formulate a response was gone because now my brain was fried and my mouth was bone dry.

  It was hot in there.

  Why is it so hot in here?

  He stood up, and he was tall. No surprise, really, what with the Thor-like body and all. But I still felt him swallow up the room with his height and his size and his…bare chest.

  Goodness gracious, this guy had muscles.

  I’d heard about six packs. I’d even seen them on the beach in California and obviously on TV. But one, two, three, four… Nope, this was more than six. This was eight. And that was just stupid.

  I mean, who’s ever even heard of an eight-pack? That was just excessive.

  And why am I staring at his chest?

  I dragged my eyes up to see laughter written all over this guy’s face. But here was the thing…he didn’t smile. Not really. His lips quirked up a tiny bit, but the smile was all in his eyes. They crinkled up at the corners and his eyes were dancing with amusement and it was beyond sexy. It was breathtaking. Literally. The air rushed out of my lungs in a whoosh at the sight of that not-quite-a-smile expression as laughter filled his eyes and—

  I sucked in air as reality hit.

  He’s laughing at me.

  I scrambled backwards as my brain rebooted and went into overdrive. Of course he’s laughing at you. You look like a lunatic. And you’re staring, Harley. Holy crap, you’re still staring!

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  “No.” Ugh, my voice came out weirdly breathy like I’d been panting.

  Because I had been panting.

  Sweat broke out beneath my oversized wool sweater that hung down to my knees and kept me at a toasty eight hundred degrees. I’d heard Upstate New York was cold in October, but it was possible I’d overdressed. Either that or this weight room also doubled as a sauna.

  My hand floundered for the door handle behind me but I stopped just before pressing down to open because at that very moment a gang of strangers with deep voices was walking past this doorway, their shouts indecipherable and booming.

  Meathead mating calls—that was what they sounded like.

  And through it all, this guy kept staring at me like I was a fascinating specimen under his microscope.

  You know, if this guy were into science. Which—let’s
face it—he probably wasn’t.

  “I’ll just, uh…” I nodded toward the hallway where a fresh wave of heavy footsteps and bro shouts were underway. “I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

  He didn’t acknowledge this, and his expression didn’t change. Still disturbingly sexy. Still laughing at me.

  Whatever. I was used to it. I’d weathered years of subtle and not-so-subtle mockery at my old school. It wasn’t like I couldn’t handle it. The trick was to slide under the radar, and if that didn’t work? Tell yourself it didn’t matter. Because it didn’t. High school was a limited-time event, and once it was over, I’d be free.

  “Are you from Branton?” he asked.

  Now it was my turn to stare because…Branton? What was he talking about? “Uh, no?”

  “You don’t sound sure.”

  I wasn’t. We’d just moved to this town. Like…literally. My dad was currently manning a U-Haul in the school’s parking lot as we spoke, and my new stepmother and stepbrother—ugh, just the word made me ill—were on their way into town to meet us at the new house.

  Our new house. Where the four of us would start a new life as a new family and…seriously, I might throw up if I didn’t get out of here soon.

  This was all too much, and I was overheated, and anxiety had a way of making me lose my lunch, if you know what I mean.

  Puking. I meant puking.

  He was still staring at me, waiting for me to reply to…something. Something about Branton. “Is that like a neighborhood or something?” I asked.

  “It’s our rival high school, and I’ll take that as a no.” He added that last part under his breath like it was more to himself than to me.

  “Oh.” I shifted, trying to get a breeze under this arctic-rated sweater. “No. I’ll be going here starting Monday.”

  “Ah…” His eyes lit up in interest. “You’re new.”

  New. That was me. That was everything about my life right now. New house, new town, new school, new…well, I didn’t really do friends, but new family, definitely.

  My dad proposed to my new stepmom—Conner’s real mom—after a freakishly short period dating. They’d gotten married at the courthouse a couple weeks ago after dropping news that my new stepmom had gotten a new job across the country, and now we were all about to start cohabitating.

  So, yeah…new? This was all new. And I hated every little bit of it.

  Starting over at a new school might just have been the very worst part. I’d hated our old school but at least it was familiar. I’d found a way to survive, if not thrive. I’d even made some allies with some of the other loners and outcasts. I’d had a home in the art department, where I was respected by my teachers, and given free rein to create during my free periods.

  I hadn’t been happy there, but I’d found a way to get through high school with a minimal amount of angst.

  And now…

  Now I had to start all over again.

  And seriously, would this guy quit it with the hard-core staring? He was starting to freak me out. I wished he’d just mock me already. I was easy prey for guys like this. Coke-bottle glasses? Check. Weird clothes? Of course. Wacky hair? You bet.

  Although that last part wasn’t really on purpose. My hair was similar to Medusa’s so the only ways to keep it under control for any length of time was to smother it with a bandana or keep it in two long braids. Right now it was in braids, which made me feel approximately twelve-years-old standing in front of this jock.

  “Freshman?” he asked.

  Ugh. Freshman? Seriously? “Junior.”

  I could have sworn his lips twitched again. I was amusing him.

  Awesome.

  Finally, I heard the sounds of footsteps fading away and took a deep breath, ready to make my escape. That low sexy voice stopped me. My hand froze on the handle.

  “What are you doing here now?” he asked.

  I assumed what he meant was: what are you doing in my weight room on a Friday after school let out?

  “I was looking for the office.”

  He stared at me.

  “I wanted to pick up my class assignment for Monday.”

  “Your first day,” he confirmed.

  I nodded. It wasn’t really a question and I had no idea why this guy was still interested. “Sorry I interrupted.”

  “Don’t be.”

  What the…what was he doing?

  He was walking toward me? No, he was looming toward me? Could one actively loom?

  I didn’t know! But if so, he was doing it. He was looming in my direction.

  My thoughts had gone haywire and that unbearable heat was about to kill me. I scrambled backwards until my back was flat against the cold door. It wasn’t like I was afraid he was going to hurt me but I was definitely afraid.

  No, not afraid, just…intimidated by those muscles.

  Seriously, there were eight of them. And that was just his abs. Don’t get me started on his shoulders or those biceps or the massive thighs beneath those sweatpants.

  He stopped halfway between the weight bench and me. “Am I scaring you?”

  He looked confused. For a second I felt guilty, like I’d just kicked a puppy. But that was stupid. This guy was probably king of the jocks, leader of the alphaholes. He probably laughed at losers and picked on loners and…

  Wait a second, was I drooling?

  It was the heat. And his body. And the stress.

  And his smile.

  Well, his not-quite-a-smile. His lips were still flat.

  Full and flat.

  Yes, thank you for the input, hormones.

  Oh, who was I kidding? It was him. He was the reason my body was shorting out, all sweaty and breathy with raging hormones. He was too sexy, and too close, and too…

  Just too. He was too much entirely. No high schooler should be this tall, or this wide, or this sexy, or this amused. But that amusement faded to concern as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweats. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I just…” He gestured toward the door. “I thought I’d point you in the right direction of the office.”

  Oh. My hand tightened on the handle. That was surprisingly…thoughtful.

  He arched his brows slightly, still standing still in the middle of the room, waiting for my okay to approach. Like a…well, like a freakin’ gentleman.

  And how did I respond to this surprising display of chivalry?

  “Put on a shirt.”

  Did I just say that? Were those really the words that came tumbling out of my mouth in a voice reminiscent of Minnie Mouse?

  He stared at me unblinking. “What?”

  “You heard me.” Apparently, I was doubling down over here. “Put your shirt on.”

  Now his lips did move, they were twitching with amusement as he seemed to fight the urge to outright laugh at me and my demand.

  Sweet. That’s exactly the sort of first impression I was hoping to make here at Talmore High. My name’s Harley, I’m a junior, and I’m the biggest prude this side of Kansas!

  But he did reach for the T-shirt that was draped over another bench to his left and he slipped into it with more grace than one would expect from a behemoth. Unfortunately for me, the sight of his pale gray T-shirt with a bulldog stretched tight over his chest did little to ease my discomfort.

  I was still trapped between Thor and a hallway full of who-knew-what. Those loud obnoxious jocks might come back this way, or worse…cheerleaders.

  To be clear, I wasn’t shy and I didn’t suffer from low self-esteem. I wasn’t some wilting wallflower, either. I just hated teenagers. Well, most of them, anyway. They were the jackals of society. Have you ever looked up jackals? The dictionary calls them opportunistic predators, who feed on animals that are smaller and weaker than them. They might look cute and innocent, but let them close and they’d bite and scratch. Next thing you know you’ve got your arm in a sling and a rabies shot in your butt. Not literally, obviously. But still, my point remains the same.

/>   High school students were basically jackals in skinny jeans.

  “I’m Tristan.” The guy walked toward me again, slowly like he was trying not to scare me.

  Too late.

  “Harley.”

  He stopped short a few inches from me and I had to crane my neck to keep eye contact. “Nice to meet you, Harley.”

  “Um, yeah.” What was I supposed to say…nice to meet you too? I was basically living my worst nightmare, trapped in a strange high school with a guy who screamed SPORTS. He was probably on the football team and dated the head cheerleader. This guy was definitely going to be homecoming king and prom king and leave for college on a full-ride football scholarship with a million broken hearts in his wake.

  Oh yeah, I knew the type. I’d seen the movie, read the book, and binged the series. This guy was a walking high school cliché and I wanted no part of it.

  He gestured toward the door. “Shall we?”

  Ugh. My eyes narrowed at the ill-disguised amusement in his eyes. “I don’t need your help.”

  He looked around the weight room pointedly. “So you meant to drop by and watch me lift weights?”

  “What? No, I—”

  “I’m honored, honestly,” he said, his tone so low it was more of a vibration than a speaking voice. It made it hard to think. “Most people aren’t so obvious about trying to ogle me when I’m shirtless, but you know…I’m flattered. Really.”

  “What? I did not—that was not what was happening—I never once ogled—and who uses that word?”

  He grinned. Oh Holy Toledo, he smiled a legit smile—lips curving up, a dimple forming in his right cheek and whoa…

  It. Was. Glorious.

  If I’d thought his not-quite-a-smile was breathtaking, this was something else entirely. His smile had the power to stop the earth from spinning on its axis. It definitely stopped my heart from beating. My whole body seemed to stall out like a car engine left out in the cold.