Page 110 of Scoring Lessons

“We look like we came straight out of the That ’70s Show set,” I deadpanned.

He chuckled as he grabbed his phone from the counter and moved behind me, draping an arm over my shoulder. We faced a gold, full-length body mirror I’d added to the living room to add a bit of color to the sleek gray and white Wesley had around the apartment.

I craned my neck to stare at him. “What are you doing?”

“Taking a picture.”

“Why?”

He met my stare with a soft smirk. Our lips were so close, my body buzzed with the need to kiss him. It didn’t matter how hard I tried to shove down the feeling; it didn’t want to go away.

“I want to remember this moment,” he murmured. “You really do look beautiful.”

“Are you flirting?”

His smile lit the green in his irises. “I’m always flirting with you, Livvie girl.”

I couldn’t help but match his smile. In the distance, I heard the click of the camera, but even then, neither of us stopped staring at each other.

The beats of classic ’70s pop-rock music welcomed us as we entered the building. It was a private event, and pet-friendly, so I took off Daisy’s leash, and she went straight to my brother.

“Wow. Kennedy went all out,” I said over the music as we stepped deeper into the venue.

The place looked like someone had taken the ’70s and the ’80s and shaken them together. The rink was a wide, gleaming oval of hardwood that caught the light from the disco ball rotating lazily overhead. The light was warm and amber at the edges of the room, shifting to pink and purple near the rink.

Neon signs with goofy sayings like Skate or Die and Good Vibes Only lined the walls, as well as a few retro soda and alcohol advertisement signs. Booths ran along the far wall, upholstered in burnt-orange vinyl, the tables topped with those little tea light candles in red holders. Classic arcade machines were tucked into the corners, and a snack counter with a striped awning served what appeared to be hot dogs and nachos and fountain sodas in wax cups. The Strikers’ logo was everywhere, but not in a way that it was tacky.

“Oh, God, you guys look amazing!” Valentina yelped as she approached us with her fiancé. “Babe, don’t they look amazing?”

“Yeah. Great,” Charles said without looking up from his phone.

Valentina smiled awkwardly, and I shot her a sympathetic look.

“You look great, too. I love your wig,” I said.

She wore a purple outfit that made her look like Daphne from Scooby Doo and an orange wig.

She beamed. “Thanks.” She turned to say something to her fiancé, but he was already stepping out of the building with his phone to his ear. Her shoulders sagged slightly, but she quickly turned her lips into a bright smile again. “Have you seen Aurora?”

I shook my head. “I just got here.”

It was no secret Aurora had been acting weirder and weirder. She wasn’t showing up to team dinners like usual. She’d canceled book club a few times.

I looked around the venue and saw Donovan talking with some of the rookies. But no Aurora.

“I’m going to go check on Owens; he’s brooding in the corner.” She rolled her eyes then hugged me before she went to bother her best friend.

“So…” Wesley tilted his head with a low huh. “That’s Charles,” he said, expressionless.

“She’s a lucky girl, isn’t she?” I asked sarcastically.

“I can understand why Owens hates him. He’s such a⁠—”

“Finance-bro prick.”

“Wow. Zero hesitation.”

“He’s an asshole.”