Page 95 of Scoring Lessons

The glamping site was tucked into a stretch of desert that felt like it existed outside of time. There were maybe a dozen tents scattered across the property, each one lit from within by warm string lights, glowing like lanterns against the dark. Ours was at the far edge, slightly separated from the rest, with a small fire pit already burning low in front of it and two wooden lounge chairs angled toward the open, beautiful sky.

The stars were always there in theory, something you knew existed the way you knew about places you’d never been. But out here, they were impossible. More than I had a number for.

“How did you even find this place?” I asked.

“Google.” He looked up at the sky with a long sigh. “And about forty-five minutes of reading reviews from people who take glamping very seriously.”

“You read the reviews,” I replied, baffled.

“I read all the reviews.” He placed his hands in the pockets of his puffer jacket. “There’s a woman named Emerald who comes here four times a year and has a lot of feelings about the thread count of the sheets.”

I laughed. “And?”

“She approves.” He chuckled. “So, here we are.”

I hummed, then I looked back up because it was easier than looking at him.

The fire crackled behind us. The chirps of crickets, a low wind moving through the brush, and the occasional distant sound of something I couldn’t name were the only things filling the suffocating silence between us.

I thought about the list. I thought about the version of myself who believed it was the answer to all of my problems. The absolute certainty I felt thinking it was going to help save the leftover pieces I had of my former life. I still believed it, I supposed.

Only time would tell. Once we finished the list, I was going to have some clarity. I desperately needed to.

“Why do you try to do that?” he murmured.

“What?”

“The thing where your face goes completely still when you’re trying not to react to something.”

I lowered my chin and avoided his gaze. I hated how well he knew me. “Not sure what you’re talking about.”

I knew he wasn’t looking at the sky, because I could feel his stare burning the side of my cheek. I held off looking at him for as long as I could, but when my eyes found his, he had that expression I’d been cataloging for weeks without meaning to—the one I kept wondering what it meant. “It’s okay to be excited about something.”

“You’ll think I’m obnoxious.” I moved a piece of hair that landed on my face thanks to the wind. “You’ve had enough of my excitement with the other places you’ve taken me to.”

He turned completely, facing me with a quizzical expression that made me want to crawl into a hole and hide. “When are you ever going to realize?” He rasped the question.

“Realize what?” I whispered back.

“That I like making you happy.” He took a step closer and fixed my beanie when a gust of wind almost blew it away. “I like the way your eyes sparkle and how unrestricted your laugh gets. I like it all. I want to see you excited. In a way, it makes me happy, too.”

“Those are strong words coming from you.” My tone was filled with levity in hopes of taking the heat off the moment.

He let out a long exhale, but his mouth turned up in a forced smile. I knew it was forced because the usual mirth I enjoyed wasn’t dancing between his eyes. “I know. Very deep for a manwhore, don’t you think?”

I huffed a short laugh. “Extremely on brand for you to say something like that right now.”

“I’m nothing if not predictable.”

That was Wesley and I to our core. One step forward, two steps back. We’d let each other slip into some alternate reality where we got a glimpse of what could have been and everything we were ignoring for whatever reason, then we’d shut it down like it never happened. With a blink of an eye, it was poof—gone.

My chuckle died, a small smile replacing it instead. “Thank you, by the way. For this. For everything.”

“What have I told you about thanking me?” The way he rasped the question ran over my skin slowly, leaving a burning trail.

“This is not something you thank someone for. This is something you take,” I said.

He smiled. “Own.”