Page 111 of Scoring Lessons

He snorted a laugh with a slight shake of his head then nodded at the rink. “Should we go?”

“I’m going to say hi to some people first, then I’ll join.”

He squeezed my waist as he passed by me to go straight to the guys. The touch was electrifying, and the sudden need to kiss him shot straight to the front of my mind again.

Jeez. Today was going to be a long fucking day.

I turned without looking, completely distracted, and almost lost my footing when I met a hard chest. The person grabbed my forearms to steady me so I wouldn’t fall face-first on the floor.

“My bad,” he said then quickly added, “Olivia?”

I lifted my gaze and reared back in surprise. “You’re the bookstore guy.”

He chuckled as he took a step back then casually leaned against the wall. “I’m Bradley. But bookstore guy works for me.” His eyes slowly traveled down my body. “What a small world. Here I thought I was never going to get the chance to see you again.”

Was he flirting?

“Right, small world.” I forced a laugh.

A seductive smile spread across his lips. “You look great.”

Okay, then. He was definitely flirting.

“Thanks.” I shot him a kind smile. “Are you here with anyone?”

“I’m not here on a date.” He leaned a bit forward. “If that’s what you’re asking.”

I instinctively took a step back. “I wasn’t,” I said quickly, and too awkwardly for my own good. But I didn’t want him to think I was flirting.

I looked over my shoulder, my instincts automatically trying to find Wesley.

Why was I trying to look for him?

Wasn’t this what spending time with him was all about?

For me to experience fun things and then apply them with someone else?

Shit.

The realization hit me right in the chest, leaving me breathless.

I was falling for my brother’s best friend.

TWENTY-NINE

WESLEY

I HEAR THE BOAT TOURS ARE GREAT.

Who the fuck was that guy, and why the fuck was he talking to my girl—I meant—Olivia?

Why were they shaking hands like they were the best of friends?

And why was I so fucking pissed?

The rink was loud as Blondie bled through the speakers at a volume that made conversation an effort.

“What’s up, man?” Morgan said as I approached him.