Page 132 of Scoring Lessons

Her brows furrowed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. Words were lodged in my throat. It was hard to breathe, let alone speak.

I stepped to the side and went to my room.

She was hot on my trail. “Wesley.” Her tone was laced with urgency.

“I can’t do this, okay?” I forced out the words, still avoiding her gaze as I looked for a pair of clothes to change into after my shower.

“You can’t do what? Talk to me?” She took a step closer. “Why are you doing this?” she rasped.

“I’m not doing anything, Olivia.”

“Stop bullshitting me right now.” Her voice wavered. “You’re trying to push me away.” Another step closer. “And that isn’t who we are anymore.” She reached for my chin and forced me to look at her. Her eyes shone with something that made my chest twist, like my body knew I was about to do something I couldn’t take back.

How could I tell her I was drowning?

How could I show her that because my heart was so full of her was the whole reason I was pulling away? That in my world, loving her and ruining her were the same thing?

How could I make her understand that her brother was right? I was going to break her heart. Not because I wanted to. But because I didn’t know how to do anything else.

I was a good-for-nothing fuckup. A washed-up hockey player who had to pack his things and walk away from the only place he’d ever belonged because no matter how hard he tried, good enough was never something he got to be.

And God only knew I wasn’t going to drag the woman I loved down with me—even if it was the last thing I did.

“Maybe he was right.” My words felt like jagged pieces of glass piercing my throat.

She reared back like I’d struck her.

“I’m not good enough for you, and I never will be,” I continued, barely above a whisper.

The silence that fell between us was thick and heavy, pressing on my chest like something about to give.

“Why are you doing this?” she croaked. “What are you not telling me?”

She was a clever woman—that much I knew. I admired her tenacity and honesty.

But I couldn’t offer her the same.

“I had a lot of thinking to do.” I couldn’t look at her. My jaw ticked. I tightened my grip on the clothes in my hands like letting go would mean losing the last thing keeping me upright.

The sound of her laugh was so broken it splintered something deep in my chest. “Let me get this straight.” She took a breath and took a step back. My instinct was to reach for her. To keep her as close as possible, because I knew. I knew this was probably the last time I was going to have the privilege to breathe the same air as her. I knew it was the last time I would be able to exist in her world—the one that was so full of color, it slipped in the grays of mine. “You beat the life out of my ex to defend my honor, which is what made my brother find out about us, and then twelve hours later you decided that this”—she pointed between us—“isn’t going to work?”

“I’m only trying to avoid the inevitable.” The words tasted like poison. My stomach turned, and I fought like hell to keep everything locked down.

“You should have thought about that before,” she said, her voice dropping. “Before everything.”

She wasn’t yelling or screaming. Her tone was defeated, like she was…disappointed.

And that—that was so much worse. It was like a knife piercing through my heart over and over again.

I forced myself to look at her.

And I wished I hadn’t.

Her eyes were glassy, but even then, she refused to break. And somehow that hurt more than if she’d fallen apart completely. Olivia wasn’t going to cry in front of me. She wasn’t going to let me be the shoulder for her to lean on, because the trust we’d built was done and dusted.

There was no going back.