Page 104 of Scoring Lessons

“You’re right. We don’t.”

When I opened my eyes, I found deep, green irises studying me.

“But you make my days better, and I wanted you to know.”

That was a lot to put on a person. I knew he knew that. But how could I have blamed him? He made my days better, too, if I was being honest. But I didn’t have the courage he had to say it out loud.

Normal honesty, I could do. Like telling someone a shirt didn’t flatter them, or giving solid advice when shit got tough. But when it came to feelings? To cracking myself open and showing every raw, bleeding corner of what I felt? I didn’t even know where to begin.

“I appreciate your honesty,” I said instead, my hands caressing his jaw, feeling his stubble on the palm of my hand.

When I went to get off his lap, he stopped me.

“Do you”—he gnawed his bottom lip in hesitation—“want to stay here tonight?”

“I—” I didn’t know how to say how badly I wanted to. How I wanted to fall asleep in the arms of the man who’d made me feel safe in such a short amount of time.

That was who Wesley Hayes was to me, I realized. My safety net.

He nodded after a few moments of silence. “I understand. Just thought I’d ask.”

Do it, Olivia. Stop tiptoeing around what you want.

Take. Own. Keep.

Without a word, I got underneath his comforter and got comfortable.

I could have sworn his eyes shone with something that looked a whole lot like excitement. “I’m going to leave the door open in case Daisy wants to join later. I know she likes to sleep with you in your bed.”

My heart almost melted on the spot at his thoughtfulness.

After he checked on Daisy, he got underneath the comforter and reached for me without hesitation. My head met his chest, and one of his hands rested on my hip.

He buried his nose in my hair and took a sharp inhale.

We didn’t say a word for the rest of the night, and as I drifted off to sleep, questions ran through my head in an endless loop.

What the hell were we doing?

What was this?

What were we?

TWENTY-SEVEN

WESLEY

I AM EMOTIONALLY DEVASTATED FOR LIFE.

Walking the halls of my agent’s office was like going into my personal doomsday.

I knocked on his office door, and he turned around in his seat and waved me in as he hung up the phone.

“How’s my favorite player doing?” Michael asked as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and lacing his fingers.

I took a seat. “Why’d you have me come down here, Michael?” On my only day off, no less.

He thinned his lips as he settled into his usual disappointed look. “We gotta talk about your contract, kid.” He logged on to his computer and typed a few things. “Vancouver and Detroit are willing to put up a fight for you. Have you given it any more thought?”