Page 135 of Scoring Lessons

I had a feeling the certain thing was Valentina’s fiancé, but if she didn’t want to talk about it, I wasn’t going to pressure her.

She waved her hand like she could erase whatever she was thinking about. “But we’re not talking about me, are we?”

“I guess not.” I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them.

And then I talked. About everything.

The flirting lessons. The list. Everything he’d done without being asked. How he’d spent the better part of a year helping me find my footing again. How somewhere in the middle of all of it he’d become my best friend, and then something more than that. The person I wanted to be around at all times.

The only one who’d seen me through all of it—every telltale sign of someone who was lost and confused and trying to recover the pieces of herself she’d handed over to someone else—someone who didn’t deserve them—without realizing it.

The only person who’d made me feel like being loved didn’t have to cost me anything.

“And then last night happened, and when he got home he just said he couldn’t do this anymore.”

Aurora’s thick, auburn eyebrows frowned. “That sounds so unlike Wesley, doesn’t it?”

My shrug was lazy—resigned. “Maybe everything was in my head. He said he wanted to take it slow, and I thought we were going to have some progress, but I mean…when has he been the settling down type?” I shook my head as a tear ran down my cheek. I sniffed. “Never.”

“Yeah, but the way he looks at you, Olivia…” Valentina said. “You don’t see it.”

“It’s true.” Aurora nodded. “Sometimes I even wish my husband would look at me that way.”

Something in her voice made me look at her. Aurora was the only married person in our friend group, and to me, she always seemed like she was the only one who had her life figured out.

But the way her eyes shone with something that was very similar to hurt made me question, for the briefest moment, if there was more to the story.

She caught me looking and smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “My point is, I think there’s more to the story.”

“Even if there is, he made his decision,” I said, stubbornness settling over me.

He obliterated my heart into pieces, and there was nothing I could do about it except to try to move on.

Even though, deep down, part of me knew it was going to be one of the hardest things I’d ever done.

THIRTY-EIGHT

OLIVIA

YOU’RE STILL PERSONA NON GRATA AROUND HERE.

Okay, so maybe drinking too many shots of tequila while watching classic rom-coms—then crying because they reminded me of every time I’d watched one with Wesley—hadn’t been the greatest idea.

I groaned as my eyes fluttered open, the sunlight pouring through the living room window going straight for my skull.

Falling asleep on the floor hadn’t helped, either. Drunk me had been very vocal about the rug feeling better than any bed she’d ever been in. Sober me could barely turn her neck and felt like she’d been hit by a truck and the truck had backed up just to make sure it got me.

“We’re too old for this shit. What were we thinking?” I muttered.

“Use your inside voice, Olivia,” Kennedy croaked.

“I hate all of you,” Aurora mumbled, leaning against the sofa and draping an arm over her eyes to shield herself from the sunlight.

“Shhh.” Valentina turned over and went right back to sleep.

A knock at the door made us all groan in unison.

Kennedy somehow managed to get her shit together long enough to tumble out of the living room and open the door. “Oh.” She straightened her back. “You.”