Page 79 of Scoring Lessons

“It was good.”

He arched a skeptical eyebrow. “I’m going to need more information than that.”

“It was one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had,” I confessed.

He pulled my hoodie down when my body shivered. “Anything I could have done better?”

A laugh snorted out of me.

His eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Are you kidding me, Wesley?” I rolled my eyes. “You are the experienced one here. You know you did well.”

He thinned his lips with a slight tilt of his head. “It’s more than that. Sure, I’m an experienced guy. But every woman is different. I want to learn about what makes you feel good.”

“I thought men like that were extinct,” I joked.

“We’re endangered,” he said, his tone serious but his eyes flickering with knowing mirth. “But I’m doing my part.”

“Cocky.”

“Sure.” He winked. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”

I didn’t have a response for that. Which was the problem with Wesley—he had a way of saying something that sounded like a line until it didn’t anymore.

I rolled my eyes, grabbed my blanket off the floor, and got to my feet. I hesitated to speak for a moment then sighed. “Thank you.”

He tilted his head with a cross of his arms, something shifting in his expression. Not quite a smile. More like he’d filed something away. “Don’t thank me again.”

I frowned. “Why not?”

He uncrossed his arms and took one easy step, closing the distance between us to a dangerous level. “Because you’re not doing me a favor by letting me show you what you’ve been missing.” His voice was even, like he knew he was stating facts. “You’re not inconveniencing me.” He paused, his eyes studying my face long enough to make me feel self-conscious. “This is not something you thank someone for. This is something you take.”

The living room felt smaller than it had a minute ago.

“Take,” I replied, perplexed.

“Take,” he repeated. “Own. Keep. It’s yours to enjoy, Olivia. Don’t ever forget that.”

I didn’t have anything for that. All I knew was that I was slowly coming to the realization that when it came to Wesley, I was way in over my head.

TWENTY

WESLEY

WHAT DOES IT MAKE ME, THEN?

“Why am I here?” Owens grumbled as soon as he took a seat on Anderson’s sectional couch. “In the middle of the day, no less.”

“Who pissed on your cornflakes this morning?” Parker asked before he snacked on a potato chip from the coffee table, where all sorts of snacks and drinks were placed, then took a seat next to me.

“I’m supposed to be running errands with Valentina after she’s done with book club,” Owens said. “I don’t have time for whatever this is.”

“Sure, you do,” my best friend quipped as he went around the room and dropped a paperback on our laps. “You always have time for us.”

“Debatable,” Owens grumbled. “But I somehow keep showing up for you idiots.”

“Oh, I recognize this.” Donovan pushed his glasses up and studied the cover. “Aurora was reading this last night.”