Page 143 of Scoring Lessons

I can’t survive it.

No words had ever felt like they could split me clean open and put me back together at the same time.

“Then why did you do this to us, Wesley?” A tear managed to escape me, mixing with the pouring rain that ran down my face. “Why didn’t you let me in?” I pressed. “Did you not think I could be there for you? Did you really have that little faith in us?”

The rumble of thunder broke through the stuffy silence as I waited for his answer.

His eyes lifted and found mine. They were glossy and filled with regret and sadness. And part of me wanted to run to him and hug him until I could take it all away.

But he did this to us. He had been the one who decided to hurt us.

“I could stand here and give you a thousand excuses.” His voice was rough. “But the truth is—I thought you were better off without me. I didn’t know how to get my head straight long enough to deserve you. To let you…” He swallowed then finished, ever so softly, “to let you love me.”

Somehow, we’d ended up right in front of each other with little space left between us. I had to crane my neck to hold his stare. Up close, his expression was open in a way I’d rarely seen—like he’d decided, somewhere between the bar and here, that he was done trying to deny the truth.

“My therapist says you don’t have to be perfect to be with someone.” He laughed softly, but there was nothing behind it. It was sad more than anything. “I couldn’t understand it at first. How can I be with someone when I struggle more days than I can count?” His hand reached for a wet strand of hair and tucked it behind my ear. “I’m not going to stand here and tell you everything will be perfect. Because it won’t. It will take time.”

Calloused hands cupped my jaw, squeezing gently. His touch was warm—exactly as I remembered it. I loved it so much, and I hated how much I loved it because I should have been angrier. I should have been pushing back.

“But if there is one thing I’m certain of, it’s how irrevocably I am in love with you, Olivia Anderson.” His thumbs traced my cheekbones.

I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. I was grateful they could be hidden between the droplets of rain that continued to fall.

“You broke my heart,” I managed to reply. “You helped me glue it back together and just…broke it.” My voice cracked in the end.

His thumb stilled against my cheek. “I know.” His voice cracked, too. “I’m such a fucking asshole. I’m sorry.” His lips found my temple first and kissed it softly. Barely a graze. I shut my eyes and let out a small sigh at the feel of his lips against my wet skin. “I’m so sorry.” He dropped a few more soft kisses on my cheek. The corner of my mouth. My shoulder. His hands slid to my waist and squeezed gently as he dropped to his knees in front of me, the wet pavement beneath him. “I’m going to work every day of my life to deserve you, Livvie girl.” His teary eyes remained steady on mine. “Even if it’s the last thing I do.”

My hands found his upper arms, and I squeezed. He was real. He was here. What he’d done was fucked up—there was no getting around that—but this, him on his knees, letting every wall tumble down and being honest…

It was all I’d wanted from the beginning.

He pressed another kiss beneath my ribcage. “Just give me another chance. Please.”

My fingers moved through his wet hair then traveled to his jaw and tipped his face up.

Without a word, I leaned in and collided our mouths together.

It was deep, and needy, and long overdue. The kind of kiss that said more than words could ever express. His tongue ran across the seam of my lips, and I parted them slightly, giving him more access. His hands tightened at my waist and pulled me closer, and I let him as the rain continued to fall on us.

Kissing Wesley was like rewiring my brain chemistry. Nothing ever worked the same after, and somehow that was the whole point.

My lips turned numb as my lungs demanded some air. But it was too hard to let go. His hands were big, and warm around me. The way we were pressed against each other like having an inch between us was going to kill us was electrifying, and somehow explained how I’d felt these past few weeks.

When I couldn’t hold on any longer, I pushed him back and let our foreheads kiss.

“I love you, Olivia.” His breath was ragged. “More than words can ever express.”

“I’m not going to pretend you didn’t fuck up. We have things to work through.” A small smile broke through anyway. “But I love you, too,” I whispered.

He stood to his full height and pulled me into a hug tight enough to feel like an apology and a promise at the same time. “I know I’m a work in progress, but I promise you, I’ll try my damn hardest to show you what you deserve. I’ll make sure of it.”

“We’re all a work in progress, Wesley.” I brought my hand to his jaw and caressed it. “As long as you keep showing up, that’s what matters.” I rose to my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “And I’m proud of you for going to therapy. I hope you know that.”

He let out a sigh of relief as his hands settled warm against the back of my neck, and he dropped a kiss to my forehead.

And I finally felt like the final puzzle piece had clicked into place.

FORTY-TWO