Page 7 of Scoring Lessons

To the average person, I was Hayes—the heartbreaker who carried a kind smile, flirtatious eyes for days, and a loud personality. To Olivia? I was just…Wesley. Her brother’s aggravating best friend and her lifelong annoyance.

“Okaaaaay, I’m done here. I tried to save both of you. Kill yourselves if you must,” Anderson said with a quick sigh before he left us to our own devices.

I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “Be careful, Livvie. You keep talking like that, and I might start having fun. You know how much I enjoy a challenge.”

“I’d love to see you try,” she replied, casual as ever.

I huffed a quiet laugh. “Oh, I’m sure you would.”

“Of course.” Her smile widened. “Humbling your ass ranks pretty high on my list of favorite hobbies.”

“Good luck with that.” I shot her a wink. “You and I both know I’m the definition of confidence,” I quipped.

“Please,” she scoffed, not missing a beat. “You’re basically a community service project at this point.”

I thinned my lips to hold back my laughter. Goddamn it. I hated when she won our sparring matches.

She crossed her arms with a pleased smile plastered all over her face. The soft string lights that hung on the back patio shone against her milky, freckled skin. The tattoos on her right arm were slightly visible. When my eyes settled on them, I studied them intently.

“You got a new tattoo?”

Her eyes followed my line of sight, then she nodded.

“I like it.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

It was a butterfly—black ink only. The wings had this impressive shading that made them semi-realistic.

What does it mean? I wanted to ask. But we didn’t ask each other those kinds of questions. That was friends territory, and we were frenemies at best—and I used the term loosely.

Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you being nice to me?”

I let out a long exhale through my nose with a low, knowing chuckle. “I only said I liked your tattoo, I didn’t ask to be your best friend. Relax.”

She rubbed her temples with an annoyed sigh. “How are we supposed to survive as roommates when you manage to give me a headache in record time?”

I leaned against a wall with my arms crossed. “We’ll be working and traveling together, too.” Which was, without doubt, our version of a personal hell. Both ways.

“Thanks for the insight, Sherlock.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Does the FBI know about you yet?” Her tone was so nonchalant, you’d think she was being serious. But I knew the drier her tone, the more sarcastic she was being. “There must be a special division for smart people like you.” Her throat bobbed, and the corner of her mouth did the smallest twitch, like she was trying to maintain her composure. “At least we know you have career options if being a hockey player doesn’t pan out.”

I had to rub my hand against my mouth to keep in check the amused laughter that wanted to bubble out of me. Olivia was a funny, clever woman. But I couldn’t let her know that.

“You’re not all rainbows and sunshine, either.” I snorted a dry laugh. “Just saying.”

She mirrored my pose, but she still had to crane her head slightly to look me in the eyes. Olivia was tall for a girl, about five-foot-nine, but I still had a few inches over her at six-foot-four. “It’s not my fault you have this natural talent to annoy me.”

“Am I getting on your last nerve already?” I smirked. “How riveting.”

“Being the bane of my existence isn’t the flex you think it is.”

“Quite the opposite.” I furrowed my brows. “It’s what I live for.”

Her left eye twitched, and my pulse spiked with exhilaration. God, I had no business loving this as much as I did.

“Neither of us is surviving this,” she said through a long sigh.

I hesitated then inhaled deeply to keep in check whatever sarcastic reply I was going to push her over the edge with. “It will be fine, Olivia. We were neighbors for years. This is almost the same thing.”

Her eyes met mine with a quizzical expression. She opened her mouth to say something but quickly clamped it shut.