Page 46 of Scoring Lessons

Mending a broken life wasn’t linear, but I was tired of taking one step forward and two steps back. Practicing all my flirting skills (though they could barely count as one) was another step in the right direction.

Once we found a small love seat sofa, I shifted in my seat as a waitress approached us to take our drink order. Her eyes lingered on Wesley as he browsed the menu, completely oblivious that the woman was staring at him like she could think of one or two things to do with him in the bathroom of this speakeasy, or her bedroom, for that matter.

My stomach tightened into knots, and for some stupid reason, I wrapped my forearm around his as I kept my eyes on her. The girl’s gaze dropped to our interlaced arms, and she had the decency to look ashamed as she left to get our drinks.

When she was out of sight, my lungs expanded in a sigh of relief, and I took a safe distance from him. Good thing he was distracted enough not to notice.

Wesley leaned back in his seat and draped an arm behind me. The smell of his clean and crisp cologne hit my senses, and my body instinctively leaned a bit forward, like it craved more of him and the warmth he provided. Thankfully, the live music was a bit loud, so I had the perfect excuse to be closer to him.

“I have never taken a woman on an actual date since I mostly meet them at bars, but”—he shrugged—“casual dating is the same thing, just with extra steps. This may be a better option, because going home with a total stranger isn’t for everyone, and that’s okay. This way, you both can have a few dates, get to know more than each other’s name, and then you can…well, you know.”

“You can say the word sex, Wesley,” I said, my tone filled with levity. “I know you’re no prude.”

I could have sworn his ears turned pink. “This way you can have all the sex you want with someone you have a connection with or whatever.” He bit the words out, like they were uncomfortable for him to say out loud.

“I know everything about you, though. How exactly am I supposed to practice on you?” I shook my head when his grin turned wicked at my words. “I meant—with you. Definitely not on you.” A nervous laugh bubbled out of me as I placed a few strands of hair behind my ear.

Why was I becoming so tongue-twisted around him?

Since when did he manage to make my body become self-aware, like gravity itself had shifted and I was being thrown off-balance?

He paused for a moment, his brows furrowing like he was deep in thought. “Forget I’m Wesley.”

A small chuckle escaped me. “Okay. Who are you, then?”

His lips stretched into a knowing grin. “I’m Robert.”

What the hell was he doing?

My laugh was so loud and unrestricted that a few patrons looked over our way like we were bothering them, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. “Absolutely not. We already established I don’t have a crush on him anymore.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “What should my name be, then?”

I tapped my index finger against my chin as I pursed my lips. “Elliot,” I said the name before I could stop myself.

What the hell was the matter with me?

Out of all the names I could think of, I blurted the name of the main male character from the book Kennedy was forcing me to read. The one she specifically chose because it reminded her of us.

He cleared his throat. “Fine.” The moment he sat on the edge of the seat, the heat he’d been giving me disappeared, leaving a chill in its place and a simmering craving to be close to him. “Hi, I’m Elliot.” He extended his hand.

I smothered a laugh in my throat as I wrapped our hands together in a shake. The rough calluses of his skin, proof of all the years of hard work he’d poured into the sport he loved more than anything, sent a delicious current shooting up my arm, electrifying my chest like I’d grabbed a live wire. “Nice to meet you. I’m Olivia.”

“Wow.” He puffed a long breath. “You have a beautiful name.”

“You think so?” I pursed my lips in doubt. “I think it’s kind of basic.”

“Are you kidding?” He shook his head like the thought had personally offended him. “It sounds like the name a Greek goddess should have.” His smile was lopsided, and I couldn’t even lie to myself; it made my stomach do a pathetic flip.

“Jesus Christ, Wesley. That was cringe. There is no way this works on women.” My voice was filled with disbelief, though every nerve ending begged to differ. I think the combination of his silly lines, innocent smile, and viridescent eyes was what made him attractive.

“Who’s Wesley?” He frowned in genuine confusion. “Wait, do you have a boyfriend?” He rolled his eyes and raised his hand to stop me from speaking. “What am I saying? Of course, you do. I should have known better than to approach you.”

I did everything in my power to keep my laughter in check.

Okay, then.

He was committed to his character. It was oddly charming.