Page 22 of Scoring Lessons

My dignity went down the drain the moment I opened my mouth. I might as well go down fighting.

“Who knew Wesley Hayes was my brother’s little bitch?” My laugh was hollow as I pressed my tongue against the inside of my cheek. “It’s a pathetic look, even for you.”

His eyes refused to meet mine as he grabbed the phone from the pocket of his dark-blue jeans and requested a car. “I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my tone filled with mock innocence, my eyelashes fluttering.

He tried to wipe off the smirk that crossed his face, but miserably failed. He still wouldn’t meet my stare. “We both know I’m not your brother’s little bitch. I’m only a smart man who cherishes his life.”

“You want to know what else I know?” I let out a low hum, striding closer to him.

His cologne hit me full force when I took a deep inhale. He smelled clean and crisp—fresh, like rain on warm pavement, laced with cedarwood and something darker, like amber and smoke. It was the kind of scent that could make your head spin, and for a second, it did. I gave a slight shake of my head, trying to chase away the way it tried to wrap around me.

His gaze flicked to mine then. My heart spiked at the intensity of his green irises.

“What’s that, Olivia?” His voice was thick, warm like woodsmoke caught on the wind.

My eyes widened in surprise. He always called me Livvie—every chance he got—knowing I hated it with every fiber of my being. The fact that he hadn’t taken the opportunity told me everything I needed to know.

One more little push, and he was going to fall for it.

Men were simple creatures, after all.

“I know you love a good challenge.” A small sigh escaped my lips. “And let’s be honest, I’m a lost cause.”

He leaned in a little, like he was about to tell me a secret. His eyes were darker now, forest green turned stormy and calculating. “Here’s the thing, Livvie…”

His words hung, like he was savoring every letter. Like the knowledge of what he was about to say gave him some kind of sick satisfaction.

Shit. So much for winning.

“You ask a player to teach you the game…” His voice dipped lower, causing goosebumps to break out across my skin without warning. “Don’t be surprised if you start to lose on purpose.”

There he is, I thought. The Wesley I knew. The infamous player. The man who enjoyed the game and chase like any other man.

I kept my triumphant smile in check as I tilted my chin in defiance, our faces as close as they’d ever been. His breath smelled like mint, with a hint of citrus.

“Good thing I’m here to learn, not to lose.” I let the words settle between us. Every beat that passed turned suffocating and unblinking. Like we both knew whoever gave in first was going to meet their demise.

Wesley’s laugh was low and husky. My chest caught the sound like a spark of hope. “You don’t know when to give up, do you?”

“Glad you’re catching on.” My voice came out uneven, pulse tripping over itself. Our closeness made my head spin and my skin buzz with nervous energy.

He ran a hand over his freshly shaven jaw.

My greedy eyes drank every part of his face in. The sharp slope of his nose. The single curl of dark blond resting against his forehead. How devastatingly gorgeous he was as his pronounced Adam’s apple bobbed with every hard swallow he took. His almond-shaped eyes carried this intense look that threatened to pull me into another trance I wanted no part of.

A honk made us both startle.

“That’s our car.” He approached it, opened the door, and waved his hand to let me in first.

The silence that fell between us on our way home was suffocating, making each breath I took become shallower.

Was it stupid to ask him to teach me how to enter the casual dating scene? Most likely.

I was at a point in my life where I had no option but to take risks. I’d wasted years with someone who I thought was going to be in my life forever. I skipped a part of my life for no reason. I’d moved to New York to discover who I was, only to end up losing myself in the process. I let myself be the shadow of someone else, thinking that it was okay because this time it was going to be different. Then, I blinked, and just like that, seven years of my life had slipped through my grasp. Seven years I wasn’t ever going to get back.

No one understood how frustrating it was. The thought alone made me want to scream until my throat turned raw. It made me want to crawl out of my skin and somehow go back in time and rethink every bad decision that had led me here.