Beguiling (Tempting #2)

T
o Jamie
, the one who beguiles me.

I never once minded.

I
don’t remember
the first time I threw a football. My dad didn’t teach me, and it wasn’t in my blood to be able to do it; I just could. It was just
there
, the way it fit in my palm, the rough edge of the white laces between my spread fingers, how it left my hand and lifted in the air. Playing football was the only thing that came naturally to me. School definitely didn’t, because I had to study my ass off to maintain the three-point-five GPA that my parents demanded. And women definitely, a
million percent
definitely, did not.  

Women, though I loved them, did not come easily to me. And they should have, which pissed me off even more. I’m good-looking—that’s not the issue. In fact, if I polled a hundred straight women on the street, I bet ninety percent of them would say I was fuckable. The other ten? They probably wanted the guy with the pierced dick and the nasty man-bun and tattoos covering every inch of his skin. But for whatever fucking reason, I always picked the crazy chick. Or the one who secretly had a boyfriend and didn’t tell me until after he found out I was screwing his girlfriend and he bashed my car lights out. A generic example, I promise.

The guys on the team, the football team at Northern University that is, fucking loved it. Leo Madsen, the reigning quarterback, had shit luck with women. Which is why I found myself throwing the football a little harder than necessary at one of my tight ends, Cameron Hunter, who’d stopped by my house because he was ‘bored as fuck’ and decided to make me suffer with his tales of ‘hot sorority pussy that tasted like unicorns and candy’ since I ‘couldn’t land any’ on my own.

When he took off across my front yard for a good ten yards, then ran a post route that led him toward the sidewalk, I let go of the ball with a bit more zip than normal, hoping to take off his head. Unfortunately, he lifted his big ass hands just in time before it hit him square in the nose.

“Nice throw, dickwad.” He jogged back across the perfect emerald grass of my front yard, tossing the ball back at me, aimed directly at my balls. I caught it easily, shoving into him with my shoulder when he passed me. I wasn’t
exactly
tiny—tall for a QB at six-four—but Cameron Hunter had me by at least two inches and about forty pounds of muscle, so I didn’t really do any damage. Fucker just laughed at me.

“You’re lucky you caught it,” I said. “If I’d broken that pretty nose of yours, no Alpha Phi sisters would be givin’ up their unicorn pussy to you anymore.”

“Oh bullshit, Madsen. I could be a hunchback with a pencil dick and still get more than you.”

I glared at him for a second before I burst out laughing. “You’re such an ass, Hunter. You wonder why I never want to hang out with you during school? It’s no surprise you’re so fucking pathetic that you have to show up to my house during the summer.”

He grinned, flipping up his middle finger at me, then his eyes narrowed over my shoulder. “Okay. Who the hell is
that
?”

There was no point in looking, because I knew. But if I admitted that I knew who he was asking about, he’d probably act like a chick and read way too much into it, so I turned and shaded my eyes from the midday sun. Yup.

Scarlet Jennings.

“Oh, just my neighbor.” I went for nonchalant, hoping he’d drop it.

“
Just
your neighbor?” Cameron repeated, incredulous. “Are you screwing with me right now?
Just your neighbor
is fucking hot.”

“So? You don’t want to know this chick, trust me.” I spun the football in my hands, very much not looking back across the street at that stupidly perfect red hair and tight ass.

“Uhh, yeah I do.”

“No. You don’t.”

“Well why the fuck not? She looks like a Playboy bunny, Madsen. Of course I want to know her.” He gaped at me when I rolled my eyes. “Dude. Do you even
have
a dick? I want to know
anyone
with a rack like that.”

“Trust me,” I said, raising my eyebrows so he knew I was serious as a fucking heart attack. “You don’t want to know her.”

“I’m going over there right now unless you give me a reason.”

He
was
serious as a fucking heart attack too. I sighed, shaking my head. “She’s … she’s a bitch, man. Just a straight up bitch. I’ve known her since kindergarten, and she’s always had a giant stick up her ass.”

Cameron narrowed his eyes, then looked back at Scarlet where she was watering the flower pots in her front yard. And I hated,
really
hated admitting it, but she did look hot as hell. Wearing little denim shorts that showed off long-ass legs—longer than they
should
look considering she wasn’t all that tall—and a simple white tank top that showcased a pretty spectacular rack. And while I was looking, I totally missed Cameron marching down the driveway toward her.

“Hunter,” I hissed.

“Get bent,” he said back. “I don’t care if she’s a bitch. And besides, she’s probably just like that to you.”

Shaking my head, I leaned back against his car and watched while he crossed the street and started up her driveway. Our yards were big enough that I could hear him talk, but not what he was saying. Scarlet lifted her head at the sound of his voice, then looked over at me, narrowing her eyes in a glare. I lifted a hand in greeting, giving her the same thin smile that I always did when I ran into her and she gave me that
I wish you could freeze to death in front of me
look. Scarlet crossed her arms and said something to Cameron, lifting her mouth in a small, polite smile. I swear, if I ever saw her smile wide enough to show teeth, I’d have an aneurysm from pure, undiluted shock.

When Cameron stopped a couple feet away from her and stretched a hand out, I couldn’t help but laugh when Scarlet didn’t shake it, just tightened her arms even further. He said something and gestured back at me, which made her glare over at me again.

God, I hated Hunter.

She spoke, but I couldn’t even hear the tone of her voice, she was speaking so quietly. Hunter tipped his head back and laughed, but then stopped when he saw her face. She had one eyebrow lifted, lips twisted in displeasure. He shook his head and then turned to walk back toward me, face hard and cheeks flushed. Scarlet gave me one last look and then stomped into her garage.

When Cameron got closer, I clucked my tongue. “Told you so.”

He didn’t answer, just waited until he was right in front of me and then punched me in the balls.

I
may have blacked
out for a second, but when I opened my eyes and stared up at the cloudless blue sky, the throbbing mass of pain where my dick used to be slowly ebbed.

“You are such a dick, Hunter.”

He snorted and held a hand out to help me up off the lawn.

“So what did she say to you?”

“No way,” he said firmly. “I’m not telling you that.”

After I stood with a groan, I shoved at his shoulder. “I can’t believe you hit me in the junk. That’s not cool, man.”

“Well, it’s your fault. You said she was a bitch, but you failed to mention that she was a real one; not just like feisty redhead bitchy, because those are pretty different.” He stared over at the Jennings' house again, shaking his head. “She scared me a little bit.”

I laughed, because I absolutely believed him.

“She really doesn’t like you, Madsen. When I said I was a friend of yours, her face got so cold that I think my dick shrank up for a second.”

“Leo, honey,” my mom called from behind us. “Do you boys need anything to drink?”

We both turned to where she was leaning out of the front door. I shook my head. “Cameron was just leaving, but thanks.”

“I was not,” he said out of the side of his mouth. “I’ll take some of that famous lemonade, Mrs. Madsen. If you’ve got it.”

My mom giggled and ran a hand over her short blonde hair. “Of course I have some. I’ll go pour a glass.”

I stared over at Cameron when the door slammed shut. Finally, he looked back. “What?”

“Dude. You cannot flirt with my mom.”

“Course I can.” He jabbed me with his sharp-ass elbow. “Your mom is hot as hell. Total MILF.”

I pulled in a deep breath, just about to throat punch him when my mom walked back out balancing two tall glasses on a tray.

“Thank you, Mrs. Madsen,” Cameron said with a wink. I cleared my throat sharply and he just grinned.

“Thanks, Mom,” I said as I took the glass.

“Leo, don’t forget you have to come to that party with us later tonight, for at least thirty minutes.”

“What party?”

“At the Jennings. For Scarlet starting vet school in the fall?” She scoffed when I groaned. “I told them we would all come when she invited me at church. So don’t give me any lip. You know Scarlet; it won’t kill you to be nice to her.”

Cameron was choking on his lemonade and I thumped him on the back harder than necessary. My mom pointed a finger at me when I made some pitiful attempt to get out of the party, something about needing to do laundry, and then walked back into the house.

“Oh man,” Cameron wiped at the tears of laughter making his eyes all shiny. “To be a fly on the wall tonight. Careful she doesn’t rip your nutsack off for saying hello.”

“Screw you,” I said with no conviction. He just laughed and got in his car, and I could still see the dickhead chuckling as he drove away. I stared over at the Jennings house, a red brick colonial that was a little bit more modestly sized than ours. Even though I tried, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d even been in her house. And the other thing I couldn’t remember was what the hell I’d ever done to make Scarlet hate me so much.

Maybe because the blood flow hadn’t fully returned to my brain after Cameron had junk-punched me, but it suddenly seemed like the greatest idea in the world to go to this party. I was home for the whole summer, without a car for reasons that I still didn’t like thinking about, and the hot redhead across the street had just provided me with the greatest challenge ever.

She didn’t know it yet, but Scarlet Jennings would definitely not hate me by the end of this summer. In fact, she was going to change my luck with women, starting tonight.