I'M IN THE MIDDLE OF trying to rearrange my schedule so I can go to Gideon’s event when there's a knock at my door.

Not expecting anyone, I check my security camera.

Shocked doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel when I see Layton standing outside, wearing a large coat... and is she holding pom-poms?

After another insistent pounding on the door, I stride to it, yanking it open. “What the hell are you doing at my house? And who let you the fuck in my neighborhood?”

“I gave the guard my brother’s name and said I was taking important papers to you.”

“That’s... pretty damn smart.”

Throwing off the coat, Layton beams at me and puts her hands on her hips. “I came over to S-E-D-U-C-E you!”

My jaw drops and gets stuck to the floor. “You what?

Her brow furrows. “Did I spell seduce wrong?”

I look around, half-expecting that at any minute, someone with a camera phone will jump out at us and yell just kidding, because there's no way in hell Layton Price should be on my doorstep wearing a cheerleading outfit and shaking her pom-poms at me.

Well, she hasn't shaken them yet, but her tits are about to pop out of her top, and the skirt... the skirt leaves little to the imagination. Swear to God, with a faster turnaround, I’ll see her ass cheeks hanging out.

“You spelled it right.” I rub my jaw. “What do you want?”

She rolls her eyes. “I came here to seduce you.”

“Wearing that?” It’s not usually my thing, but...

“Should I shake my pom-poms for you first?”

Hell yes, you should. “No. Put your coat back on.” I bend over and pick it up, then place it around her shoulders. “You need to go home, LT.”

She juts out her bottom lip. “My Uber already left.”

“Not my problem.”

“Come on, Aiden,” she pleads, batting her lashes at me and letting the coat slide down her hot little body. “It’s cold outside.”

“Should have thought about that before you put,” I wave my hand at her, “that on.”

“I wore it just for you. The top’s too tight, though.” As if to torture me, she started bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. “Oh, wow. I can’t believe the girls are staying put.”

Me either. “Good for them.” I try to shut the door, but she shoves a pom-pom in at the last minute. “Damn it, LT. I said go home.”

“You can't leave me outside when it's cold like this.”

Better than me taking advantage of her like this. “I’m not a gentleman, baby girl.”

“You don't have to be a gentleman to be a decent person,” she points out. “And stop calling me baby girl. I’m neither one of those.”

She's right. “Get your ass in here. You can wait in the foyer while I get an Uber for you.”

Pushing her way in, she grins and spins around, stumbling a couple of times in the process. “What do you think of the outfit? Be honest.”

I look, really studying it like I don't already have an opinion that it's hot as fuck, and it’s getting harder to think much more than that because all the blood in my body is rushing to my dick. “It's okay, I guess.”

She frowns, then smacks herself in the face with one of those annoying pom-poms. “Duh. Not your colors. I totally didn’t think about that when Paige told me to put this on.”

“Hold up. Please tell me you're not wearing something that she and Dallas had a good time in.” I grimace at the thought.

Layton shakes her head vigorously. “Nope. Fresh out of the package. I made sure of it first. Because, gross.”

I run a hand through my hair, unable to stop staring at her. There’s so much to take in, from her tits to her legs... and fuck me if I don’t want to ask her to spin around again, so I can see exactly how short it is in the back.

Layton twirls a thick strand of hair around her finger.

“Are you wearing fucking pigtails?”

“You don’t like them? Paige said all guys like them.”

Holy hell, she can’t wear those... and not because I’m turned on by them either. It’s the fact she used to wear her hair like that all the fucking time when she was a kid. My brain can’t compute the change fast enough.

“Not this guy.” Grabbing her by the shoulders, I take the risk of her kneeing me in the nuts to fix her hair. “I’ll try to be gentle, sweetheart.”

“You always were,” she says, holding completely still.

“Good thing you didn’t know me when I was a kid.” My fingers are clumsy in her hair, the circle of elastic stretched to almost the breaking point as I gently work it out. “Got sent to juvie a lot.”

“For manhandling cheerleaders?”

Cheerleaders manhandled me, not the other way around, but I don’t feel like discussing that with her. It’ll give her more ideas, or worse, encouragement. “Nah. For B&E. Assault. Battery. You name it; I did it. Or helped someone.”

“Kingston said your dad was in the mafia.” She snorts, like it’s a joke. “Were you in a gang?”

I make my voice stay light. “Would it bother you if I said yes?”

“Not really.”

“Either it would or it wouldn’t, princess. Stop being so fucking polite.” I pull out the last band and step back.

She shakes her hair out, sending it tumbling down to her waist. “Better?”

“You don’t look twelve any more.”

She grins bigger. “Dallas said for me to tell you... you’re welcome and light touch. Is that a football thing?”

I am going to hand him his nuts as soon as I see him. “Something like that.” I clear my throat. “Anyway, you—”

Layton lunges for me, pressing a hard kiss against my chin. I’m so caught off guard that I stand there and do nothing.

“Nice chin,” she says, breathless. Her hands climb higher on my shoulders and then her mouth is on mine, little tongue teasing until she pulls back. Her breath is warm against my throat. “I don’t care about what you did in the past.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because in mine, you were the hero.”

Stunned like I’ve been sacked by a lineman, I keep standing there like a fucking virgin with my dick in my hands and no idea what to do with it. Except, I know exactly what to do with Layton. I kiss her back, not at all surprised and a hell of a lot disappointed that she tastes like rum and mint. Still, I keep my hands to myself, letting Layton have her way with me because it feels so fucking good.

Desire and lust bulldoze into my nerves, making my cock swell and my pants tight. I devour her sweet mouth while her curious hands explore my shoulders and my neck. While her fingers delve into my hair and lightly tug on the ends.

Our bodies finally collide, fully and completely. She’s soft, plump in all the right places, and so incredibly warm that I want to mold her to me, make her body fit into mine like puzzle pieces that require no coaxing.

With a gasp, she pulls back, a dazed look in her eyes. She touches her mouth with the tips of her fingers, as if she can’t believe what’s she feeling... or what she’s done.

“You didn’t touch me back,” she whispers, then her face flushes a deep red. “Oh, God. I’m worse at this than I thought.” Tears tumble down her cheeks. “How bad am I? I know you’ll be honest. I mean, if I can’t even seduce you right... no wonder Joe said it was like a hook-up gone wrong.”

“Don’t cry, LT. It’s not you. It’s me. Swear to God, it’s me.”

She laughs through her tears. “Sure it is.”

I grab her up in a hug, making sure she can’t storm out like she’s prone to do in situations like these. “Would I lie to you?”

Her hazel eyes size me up. “I don’t know who or what to believe anymore.”

“Fair enough.” I cock my head to the side. “If I tell you a secret, will you promise to keep it between the two of us?”

Misery shining in her eyes, she nods. “Sure. Why not?”

“I’m celibate.”

“I wish I’d stayed that way.”

If only I had Joe’s neck between my hands right now, I’d squeeze him until his head popped like a balloon. “That’s not what I mean.”

“I don’t know another definition for it.”

Heat creeps up my ears. “I, uh, don’t have sex during football season.”

“Why?”

“It’s bad luck.”

Her eyes round. “You think sex is bad luck?”

“Only during the season.”

“But what about—”

“Nope.” It doesn’t matter who she names, I haven’t been with anyone since the season started. “Only Kingston knows... Apparently, Dallas does, too, but other than that, it’s not common knowledge.”

She barks out a laugh. “That means Paige knows.” She shakes her head. “That’s why they picked you. They knew you wouldn’t do anything with me that I’d regret tomorrow.”

“I don’t think so?” I have no idea how to handle a hurt, drunk Layton. Angry Layton. Sure. Happy Layton? No problem. But this...

Her body shakes over and over again. At first, I think she’s laughing, then I realize she’s crying. Big, ugly tears that make her face splotchy and her nose run.

“I’m no good for anyone,” she sniffs. “My husband left me on our honeymoon for some woman he barely knew. But not before sleeping with me. That’s what sealed the deal for him—maybe sex is bad luck for me, too.”

“Ah, fuck me,” I mutter, running my hands up and down her back in an effort to calm us both down. “You need to sober up.” And I need a drink.

“You’ll sleep with me if I’m sober?” She stares up at me, her black lashes spiked. Mascara coats the thin skin under her eyes.

I can’t tell her no, can’t hurt her more than she’s already been. It’s just not in me. “Um... yeah, sure.”