Page 16 of Scoring Lessons

My lips flattened as I angled my head to the side then grimaced. “That’s not so bad.”

“She was naming them in alphabetical order,” she deadpanned.

I stared at Olivia for a beat then looked back at Aly.

Her expression turned blank. “I know.”

I tapped my hand against the bar twice. “Cancel my order.”

My body took a life of its own, dragging me closer to them with every step.

Maybe I was feeling weirdly generous. Maybe I was bored. I didn’t fucking know.

What I did know was I couldn’t sit there and watch this disaster unfold any longer.

I stepped in front of the guy she was talking to and leaned on the bar with a grin. “Hey, Livvie.”

Blue-gray eyes snapped to mine with sharp irritation. “What the hell do you want?”

When her nostrils flared, her septum ring caught the red glow of the lights like it was pissed off, too. I remembered how much she fought with her Mom to get it. I’d always loved it on her. It suited her carefree and loud personality. Or, well, what used to be her personality.

I didn’t know what the fuck happened during the years she spent in New York, but this wasn’t the same girl I used to know. Something told me her old self was still underneath it, though. I could see flickers of it like stars hidden by city lights, still burning just as bright underneath. I wanted to unveil it, even if it burned me in the process.

It wasn’t my business, that much I was aware of. But I was no goddamn quitter, either.

I glanced at Paul Bunyan Jr., who looked like he might actually thank me for the save. “Hey, man.”

His eyes went wide. “You’re Wesley Hayes.”

“And she”—I jabbed a thumb at her—“is Henry Anderson’s little sister.”

“Twin sister,” she said through gritted teeth.

His eyes bulged, a flicker of fear passing through them. “We were only talking. Not flirting. Definitely not flirting.”

Olivia’s brows etched in a frown. “We weren’t?”

His laugh was a bit high-pitched, then he cleared his throat. “I mean—We were. Kind of. But”—he glanced at his phone like it might teleport him out of this mess—“it’s late, and I work early. So…I should go. But text me.”

“You didn’t give me your number.”

“Thank God,” he muttered, dropped a crumpled twenty on the bar, and bolted out the door like the building was on fire.

I used every ounce of strength I had to hold back my laughter. But…nope. My shoulders shook with barely contained mirth until I doubled forward, one arm clutching my stomach as wheezes burst out of me while tears pooled in my eyes.

Her nostrils flared like she was a dragon about to torch the place. “You’re a real asshole. You know that?”

“Me?!” I gasped, snorting through another fit of laughter. “Oh, God,”—I wheezed again then hiccuped—“I can’t breathe.”

“Yes, you! All that time wasted for nothing.” She slumped her shoulders in defeat.

All traces of humor died down with a blink of an eye. “Were you actually trying to hook up with him?” I asked, dumbfounded.

There was no way.

He wasn’t the type of guy Olivia went for. She liked athletes. She casually dated a few during high school—nothing serious, of course, because she was clear about wanting to have the typical high school experience. Olivia was strong-willed like that. The reminder almost made another laugh slip out of me, because, if memory served, this drove Anderson completely nuts. My best friend had roped me into scaring off a few of them more times than I could count.

She stared at me like I was the dumbest person alive. “Wesley.” Her voice was laced with exasperation. The rasp of it made my body light up from the inside out like a struck match catching flame in the dark.