Page 11

Scarlett’s eyes narrow before she gives Gems a gentle shoulder nudge. “No, I’m just getting coffee with a guy, and that isn’t until Thursday morning. Bennett said he would give you lessons Thursday evening, so no problems there.”

“Ah, a hot date? Who’s the sorry sucker?” I can’t stop myself from asking as I fight the strange urge to puff my chest like an asshat.

“Don’t you mean who’s the lucky man that has the privilege of having coffee with me?” she retorts.

“Isn’t that what I said?”

“Not quite, but that’s none of your business,” she bites back.

“Got it. Well, if you’re okay with me coming over today, I’ll run home real quick to grab my guitar and then I’ll head to your place.” As I wait for her response, I shift my weight back on my heels.

Scarlett lets out a sigh, blowing the bangs off her face that I hadn’t noticed at first, before she reluctantly replies, “Yeah, fine by me. Can you just give us, like, an hour or so? I’ve got to swing by my grandparents’ place to pick up Gunner.”

“You betcha,” I tell her as I adjust the strap on my duffle and begin walking backwards toward my car. “See you in a bit. ”

I watch as Scarlett hurriedly moves to the driver’s side and gestures for Gemma to get in the passenger seat before they buckle up and take off.

My phone rings just as I’m leaving the parking garage, and I answer using my steering wheel once I see Jackson’s name on my car’s display.

“Yep,” I say in answer.

“Wow, what a way to greet your brother. Hello to you too, sweetie,” Jax retorts.

“Oh, I’m sorry, is this better? Hey, dear brother, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Much better. See, was that so hard?”

“Cut the shit, Jax. What’s up?”

“Nothing, just wanted to call to say hi to my big brother. And maybe ask for your advice on something.”

My brows shoot up in surprise, usually Jax and I butt heads when it comes to some of the decisions he makes. I can’t remember the last time he came to me for advice. “Always,” I tell him.

“What are your thoughts on me asking McKenna’s college friend, the one she played volleyball with, to go out?”

I’m taken by surprise yet again, knowing Jax hasn’t really dated anyone seriously since high school. “Which one, Brooke or Alexa?”

“Alexa, obviously. Brooke is engaged.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that. I don’t keep up with that shit. But I don’t see any problem with you asking her out. She seems cool whenever we’ve hung out. More your type, too, with how outgoing she is.”

“And I think we’d be on the same page with things.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Keeping things casual. Nothing serious,” he clarifies.

“It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to settle down, you know.”

“Says my single older brother who thrives in the bachelor lifestyle. Have you ever had a relationship?”

“I’ve dated a few women, but haven’t found someone I want to be serious with,” I answer, but what I don’t tell him is that I would’ve absolutely asked a woman I was with over six years ago to be in a relationship with me had I not fucked it all up.

Instead, I steer the conversation back on his love life, or lack thereof.

“Are you still avoiding relationships because of her?” I don’t say her name because I know it’ll only set him off.

Even after all these years, he still can’t speak about her.

“Don’t go there,” Jax grits, just like I thought he would.

“Alright, sorry J. Let me make it up to you. Meet me at the Wolf Den tonight for a bite to eat and I’ll buy you a beer.”

“You buy dinner too and you’ve got yourself a deal,” he throws back.

“Fine, dinner too, you frugal fuck.”

“Not all of us got a big fancy contract like you, big bro. What time?”

“Um, not sure yet. I’ll text you.”

“Wait, why? Do you have other plans? You never have plans.”

“I’m, ah, giving guitar lessons this afternoon and I’m not sure how long it’ll take.”

The line is silent on the other end for so long I think the call disconnected.

“To who?” Jax finally asks.

I’m hesitant to reply. “Gemma Carlisle.”

“As in the little sister of the girl who got away?”

“As in the owner’s granddaughter. I’m just giving her a few lessons as a favor to Scarlett.”

“Oh ho ho, this is going to be good. Can’t wait to hear how your favor for Little Red Riding Hood goes. Text me the time later.”

Before I can respond, he hangs up and I grip the wheel, already annoyed with all the shit he’s going to give me tonight.

Just over an hour later, with my guitar case in hand, I pause in front of a set of large oak doors. After I ring the doorbell, I hear who I think is Scar holler, “Shit, is he really here already?”

A moment later, the doors open and Gunner peeks out before yelling over his shoulder, “Yep, he’s here!”

“Hey, Champ. How’s it going?”

“Heya, Cap! It’s okay, Scar is kinda going crazy that you’re coming over.”

I chuckle as his eyes widen and he folds his lips in on themselves like he wasn’t supposed to let me in on that last bit.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep that last part to myself.” I kneel and set my case on the ground, waving him closer. “Why is she going crazy?” I whisper.

“She says the house is messy.”

“Ah, well that’s understandable. You guys have been busy,” I tell him, giving him a pat on the back. “Think she’ll be less flustered if I do Gemma’s lessons on the front porch?”

“What does fluss-ed mean?”

“Flustered,” I correct. “It means—” I stumble over how to define the word in terms a five-year-old will understand. “I’m asking if she’ll be less crazy if we do it out here.”

“Who are you calling crazy ?” Scarlett asks in a tone that raises the hair on the back of my neck. Shit.

“No one. Certainly not you,” I say just as Gunner throws me under the bus. “He was calling you a flust-ed crazy lady. ”

“A what?” she questions, looking slightly deranged as she narrows her gaze on me.

“Thanks for the assist,” I deadpan.

Gunner clearly doesn’t pick up my meaning when he gives me two thumbs up and squeals, “Good luck!” over his shoulder before running up the steps.

Christ, here we go.

Standing up, I dust off my pants and grab my guitar case. “Hey, Scar. I was just asking Gunner if you’d rather Gemma and I do the lesson on the front porch. It’s a nice night and it looks like there’s plenty of room for us to sit out here if you’d prefer I don’t come in.”

“And why would I prefer you not come in?”

“Uh—” I nervously shift my weight from being put on the spot. “Gunner mentioned you guys haven’t settled in yet. Which is understandable considering how busy you all are and Joseph mentioned you only moved in a couple of weeks ago. Besides, I sprang this change of plans on you last minute.”

Before I can continue rambling, Scar holds up her hand to stop me.

“I think Gemma would probably prefer to do the lessons inside for now. She’s somewhat shy about her songwriting and piano playing.

I’m guessing it will be the same with playing guitar for now.

I don’t mind if you come in. I’m sorry if Gunner made it seem like I didn’t want you to come inside.

I’m not the cleanest person by nature, so I was just tidying up. ”

“Yeah, me neither,” I tell her but she shoots me a look that shuts me up.

“Says the guy with the cleanest locker and weirdest pregame rituals. I bet you’re a neat freak. You probably organize your closet by colors.”

Guilty .

She gasps, covering her mouth. “Oh my god, you totally do, don’t you?” Her laughter rings through the entryway when she gestures me inside, and my heart rate picks up speed at the sound.

“What about my pregame routine is weird? And how exactly do you know about my rituals?” I question.

Scarlett moves closer, lowering her voice for just us to hear. “I’ve decided to make it my business to know exactly what makes the captain of my team tick.”

My heart beats double time as her words register.

“Your team?” I press, after I’ve cleared my throat.

“My family’s team,” she corrects, before turning to the steps and cupping her mouth. “Gems! There’s an old guy in our entryway with a guitar offering you lessons. Get your butt down here before I have to make more awkward conversation.”

She turns back to face me and bites her bottom lip to muffle her giggling.

“You think you’re so funny. What’s with the two of you calling me old? I’m not old.”

“To her, we both are. Don’t you remember a time when you thought your parents were old?

Well, that’s pretty much how she thinks of everyone.

When I turned twenty-one, I was so old .

When I turned twenty-five, she checked me for gray hair.

You’re thirty, so in her eyes, you’ve practically got one foot in the grave. ”

What did I get myself into?

“Cute. Is this what I have to look forward to?” I grumble.

“Precisely.” Her voice is laced with humor at my expense.

Gemma comes skittering to a stop at the base of the stairs. “Hey, Bennett. Thanks for offering to do this.”

“No problem. I’m happy to do it. You ready to get started?” I ask her.

“Yep, we can go in the living room,” she suggests, leading the way into the open-concept living space down the hall.

We pass under the entryway staircase and I take everything in.

Even though they only moved in a few weeks ago, Scarlett’s managed to make this place into a home with little touches like the framed artwork on the walls and a large black and white portrait of the three of them making silly faces together.

Next to that are portraits of each of them zoomed in on a feature of their face.

Starting at the bottom is Gunner’s smile missing one of his bottom teeth.

Above that is a close-up of Scarlett’s scrunched nose, speckled with my favorite feature of hers—freckles that stand out in stark contrast to her creamy skin due to the black-and-white composition.

At the top are Gemma’s eyes, the striations of her retinas emphasized and framed by long lashes.

I get caught staring at the photographs, and Scarlett softly shoulder checks me. “This way, Benny Boy.”

Hearing her call me that earns her a smirk accompanied by the quirk of my brow.

“Are we back on nickname basis, Little Red?”

She rises to her tiptoes, leaning in to whisper in my ear, “For now. Until you do something to royally piss me off again, like when you assumed I’d only fucked you as revenge because I had daddy issues.”

Fuck me. Hearing her talk about our night together gives me mixed feelings. On one hand, I’m riddled with guilt for assuming she knew who I was. On the other, my mind is filled with lustful memories from our night together. Memories that I’ve recalled in vivid detail while I’m alone.

Not the kind of thoughts I should be having right now.

She pulls away, and the smirk she gives has my cock twitching beneath my zipper. She knows exactly what she’s doing—the effect she has on me .

I’ve already come to terms with the fact that I’m completely fucked when it comes to this woman. Distractions be damned. Scarlett Carlisle can consume my every waking thought for all I care.