Page 21 of Scoring Lessons

OLIVIA

A DISSERVICE TO HUMANKIND, HONESTLY.

A sharp and hollow laugh burst from Wesley. It was loud enough to make me reconsider the last three seconds of my life.

“What the hell is happening right now?” He shook his head in genuine disbelief, like it had been the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

To his credit, it probably was.

“Forget I said anything,” I mumbled under my breath and started walking in the opposite direction.

Getting to my temporary apartment, locking myself in my temporary room, and withering to death sounded like the best option to get out of the embarrassment I was experiencing.

His hand met my waist, landing where there was a bit of exposed skin. It was warm and rough to the touch, making a shiver run down my spine.

“Let’s talk about this.” His voice had a rough edge that rumbled over my skin like it wanted to leave a mark.

His touch burned me like ice set on fire. It was startling, like something I wasn’t supposed to like, but there I was, dying to lean into it.

I took an abrupt step back, trying my best to come back to my senses. I crossed my arms to stop myself from fidgeting. When I tried to speak, words lodged in my throat. This was the last thing I needed. Being nervous around Wesley was a whole new level of low.

New level of low—it’s so nice to meet you! Boy, it’s quite hot in here, isn’t it?

I had no reason to feel like this around him. I mean, I’d known Wesley since his weird teenage phase—the one where all he and my brother could talk about was hockey and the crush they had on Alicia Silverstone.

“Why could you possibly need me for that?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I snapped, finally putting myself together long enough to push the last few minutes of my life to the side. “I don’t need you. I only need your skills. There’s a difference.”

“My skills?” he echoed as he took a step closer, stunned green eyes meeting mine. “You want me to teach you how to—what? Throw out cheesy lines and eye-fuck someone across a room like this is some sort of 2000s cliché rom-com?”

“To put it simply, yes,” I replied. “You and I both know I suck at it.”

He huffed a dry laugh. “That’s an understatement.”

It took everything in me not to respond with a retort. This was not the time to get on his bad side. “I need someone who can teach me the ropes of casual hookups. Unfortunately for me, you’re the best I’ve got.”

A thick, suffocating silence fell between us.

Was it a crazy idea? Yes.

But was I lying? No.

If anyone was able to teach me and make it stick, it was Wesley. Being charming and flirty came naturally to him, so what better way than to get a learn-how-to-be-a-player-101 crash course than from the player himself?

The muscles of his chest expanded in an exhale, stretching the fabric of his black polyester button-down shirt. When he balled his left hand in a fist, the veins underneath his light skin became more pronounced. The movement was casual, like he was trying to hold himself back from doing—or saying—something stupid.

It pissed me to no end how effortlessly handsome he was. It was unfair. A disservice to humankind, honestly. Or, well, a disservice to me.

“This isn’t happening. Your brother will kill me if he finds out.” His words were careful, like he thought I was going to explode over them because Wesley, out of all people, knew how much I hated my brother’s overbearing personality.

“Last I heard, he has no say over my life. And it’s not like I’m asking you to sleep with me.” My heart wanted to come out of my throat with every word I said, though my voice held a bored tilt that was every bit fake.

The old Olivia, who was trying to push back and come out stronger than ever, refused to back down, and damn it all, I was going to make this happen.

His jaw ticked as he flicked his wrist, checking the time on his watch. “I’m calling a car. It’s late, and we work tomorrow.”

The way he tried to dismiss me made my blood boil. I wasn’t stupid. Taunting a man like him was a double-edged sword. But what else did I have to lose?