Page 59 of Scoring Lessons

“Why doesn’t it feel like it?” I said with as much levity as I could muster.

He met my stare with a deep frown.

Before he could give me a reply (or probe me with questions), I shook my head and tried my best to move past the useless emotions that wanted to drag me down. “Want to watch a movie while we eat?” I asked.

Wesley let out a resigned exhale. He was letting it go, and for that, I was more than grateful. “Sure. What do you have in mind?”

“I was thinking Ten Things I⁠—”

He interrupted me with a groan. “There is no way that’s still your favorite movie.”

I had no business feeling an immense sense of satisfaction, maybe even happiness, at the knowledge of Wesley still remembering these little mundane details.

My smile turned smug as I grabbed the remote, logged into my account, and got comfortable in my bed.

I patted the side next to me. “You didn’t want to be alone tonight, so this is what you get.”

“I hate this movie. Can you please pick something else?”

“I’ll have you know, Ten Things I Hate About You is a classic comedy romance.”

He shot me a glare. “You only like it because of Patrick.”

“He used to be every teenage girl’s crush. Get over it,” I said then leaned against the headboard as I took a huge bite of my burrito, not letting a single crumb fall.

He settled me with a dry look.

“Shut up and watch the movie.”

“I haven’t even said a word!”

“You were insulting me inside your head. I could sense it.”

He scoffed a laugh as he got comfortable next to me.

We ate in silence as we watched the movie, passing each other the bags of chips and guacamole. It was comfortable. Like it was meant to be. If someone had ever told me I was ever going to be on friendly terms with Wesley Hayes, I would have laughed in their face.

“I’ll be right back,” I whispered before I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I may have loved Rosita’s when I was sixteen years old, but the aftertaste of all the onions from the guacamole was driving me insane now.

He waved his hand dismissively as his attention remained glued to the TV. Hates that movie, my ass. But leave it to Wesley to never admit I had good taste.

“I’m beat. We can finish the movie another night if you want,” I said as I opened the bathroom door after I finished my nightly routine.

When I stepped into the room, every part of my body froze in place, and my breath caught in my throat when I found Wesley with my book in his hands, open to the exact page I’d been re-reading and annotating.

The fucking list.

SIXTEEN

WESLEY

A SUCKER FOR PUNISHMENT WAS PRACTICALLY MY MIDDLE NAME.

“That’s not yours!” Olivia all but shouted as she tried to grab the book.

I scrambled off the bed before she had a chance to reach for it. “You’re going to have to try harder than that if you want it back.” I grinned, wiggling the book in the air.

Her face turned red as she let out a frustrated groan. Her freckled cheeks were as beautiful as ever, and I tried to stifle my laugh at how her eyes shone with unspoken fury and her silver septum ring gleamed underneath the room lights when her nostrils flared.