Page 26 of Scoring Lessons

Call me an idiot, or a sucker for punishment. I didn’t care. I was willing to risk it all for her, and I couldn’t even come up with a good reason as to why.

“Tonight. Be ready by seven.” I grabbed my things quickly then disappeared through the tunnel, wanting nothing more than to get to the locker rooms and put enough distance between us so I could get out of this weird fog she was putting me in.

We couldn’t go to Tim’s (for obvious reasons), so we picked a random bar instead.

As soon as we stepped in, every guy settled their eyes on Olivia like hawks stalking their most anticipated prey.

I couldn’t even blame them.

The eye shadow she wore was dark, with different shades of brown, which made her blue irises pop. Her black, shiny hair fell in soft waves all the way down to her hips. But what took the goddamn cake was the mini dress. It was a dark burgundy, and the way it contrasted against the color of her skin was heavenly.

Snap out of it. This is Olivia. Not only is she Anderson’s sister, but if she were capable of reading your mind, she would probably suffocate you to death in your sleep.

Do you want to die of asphyxiation, Wesley?

Does that sound like a nice way to go?

“Okay, professor. Hit me with it,” she said as we took a seat at the end of the bar.

“Do not call me that.”

“Doesn’t do it for you?” She shot me a cheeky grin. “How about…” She pretended to ponder. “Coach?”

That shouldn’t have sounded as hot as it did, but there I was, with my head deep in the gutter. I’d been so focused on training and my future, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten laid. It was fucking with my head. Maybe after Olivia took her pick and went home with a guy, I could find someone for myself. Blowing off steam had to be the solution to this problem.

“Do you ever get tired of acting like such a brat?” My eyes scanned the bar as I asked her the question to calm my flustered nerves.

“If you meant to ask if I ever get tired of fucking with you, the answer’s no.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that passed through my lips. “Like I said: brat.”

“You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

She was right. But I was never going to admit it out loud.

I rolled my eyes. “Let’s get a drink first, and then I’ll teach you my wisdom ways or whatever.”

She clapped twice with a shake of her head. “Nope. Chop, chop. Show me your moves. We have no time to waste.”

I arched a brow without a word.

She looked around, trying to find me a prospect. “Flirt with the bartender.”

“Okay, then.” I laughed. “If you insist.”

When the bartender approached us, her smile turned coy as she leaned forward, the deep V of her shirt giving me a full view of her cleavage. “What can I get for you?” she asked.

“Hey.” My smile was lopsided, the one I knew made my dimples pop. “I’ll have whatever you have on draft…” I made a point to flick my eyes to her chest then to her eyes as I let my words hang.

“Anika,” she replied in a sultry tone.

“Anika,” I echoed, rolling her name slowly with my tongue. “Beautiful name. It suits you.” I extended my hand to shake hers. “I’m Wesley, but everyone calls me Hayes.”

Olivia tried to cover her laugh with a cough. I shot her a quick glare that had her straightening in her seat, her face red from trying to keep it together.

The bartender paid her no attention. Her eyes were solely focused on me as she blushed when her hand interlaced with mine. “Nice to meet you, Wesley.”

“Hayes,” I corrected her before I could stop myself. From the corner of my eye, Olivia reared back in surprise.