Page 30 of Scoring Lessons

I scoffed under my breath. “It sure doesn’t feel like it.” I was a thirty-year-old woman who had barely explored her sexuality.

Pathetic. I know.

“Why are you so hell-bent on doing this? You can take some time for yourself. Get settled into a new city. Hang out with the girls.”

“Find a new place to live,” I added for him.

“Why? You have a perfectly good room at my place. We’ve managed not to kill each other. It works.” He shrugged.

“I don’t think your dates would find it appealing knowing you have a girl roommate.”

“I don’t bring women home. What else you got?”

My eyebrows raised in surprise. “Why not?” Before he could reply, I raised my hand to stop him. “No connections. Right. My apologies, Mr. Heartless.”

“I am not heartless.” It was borderline charming how hard his frown deepened.

“Tell that to the hundreds of hearts you’ve broken in every city you play in.” I patted his shoulder playfully.

“Those women don’t want the real me. They only want my fame and money. You can hardly call that heartbreak.” His tone held a tense edge as he forced out a laugh.

My heart cracked the tiniest bit.

I’d given him so much shit over the years, I’d never taken a moment to sit back and take a look at the whole picture.

Adult Wesley was a mystery to me. The media talked a lot about him, but it was no secret that most of these players portrayed things they weren’t.

My ex was the prime example.

Yeah, he had a hot-headed reputation on the ice, but off of it? The public adored him. Except for the media situation he had with my brother last season, he loved to toy with the line between what was and wasn’t allowed. He could be sassy with the reporters, but he was an expert at turning it around in his favor. He had the perfect smile, the dimples, and the light-blond hair that made him angelic.

It was nothing but a lie.

“I could give you the whole spiel of”—I quoted in the air—“it only takes one person to change your mind”—I rolled my eyes—“but love sucks. Don’t do it.”

His smile turned genuine, deepening his dimples. “I wasn’t planning on it, but thanks for the advice.”

I grabbed my drink and drowned it in one gulp. The burning sensation ran down my throat until it landed on my stomach, making it feel hot. “Good.”

“You’re set on doing this, aren’t you?” He posed the question with as much stoicism as I could expect coming from a man like Wesley—calculated eyes, a knowing smirk plastered on his face.

“Pretty much,” I said, knowing full well I wasn’t in the best headspace for it.

But if not now, when?

When was it finally going to be my turn?

This was much deeper than trying to move on from Jake. This was about finding myself, on my terms, without being judged. This was about finding the flame I once had. The one that was completely obliterated the moment I let a man dictate my life. This was a way to find my footing once and for all.

But to be quite frank, while it would have been nice to have someone teach me the ropes, it wasn’t a requirement.

As I was gathering the words to tell him to forget about this plan, that I’d better be on my own, he let out a long sigh. “Fine. If you insist, I guess I can’t stop you. But we have a lot of work to do.”

“You’re acting as if I am clueless.”

“After knowing that you could have gone home with anyone from this bar tonight and hadn’t even realized it?” His chuckle was low, making the bottom of my belly explode with tiny little sparks. “Clueless doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

“Oh, fuck off, Wesley.” I tried to push him with my arm, but he barely moved.