Page 42 of Perfect Score

I went down to the rink and sat on the ice.

I didn’t shoot a single shot.

Instead, I watched the time move slowly, telling myself to stay put and not ruin her night by showing up to prom while she was there with Liam.

But if I tell her any of this, then maybe she’ll be pissed enough to hate Liam… but then I just become the default—the second choice.

I want to be her first choice or nothing at all.

If she can forgive Liam for all the shit, he put her through, but she can’t forgive me for something that happened ten years ago, then that’s my answer.

“If I don’t give her a choice, then did she actually choose me at all?” I ask him, though I’m not looking for him to respond.

I already know the answer.

“That's a tough question," he says, cleaning a glass. "You're a better man than me. I wouldn't have let her out of my sight. Notwith that asshole around. Good luck,” he says genuinely, and then walks over to help a couple that just walked into the bar.

I finish that beer and then another while watching the replay of a football game on the TV screen above the bar.

It’s been over an hour since I left Zoey upstairs with Liam. I think I’ve given them enough time to talk.

I just hope I don’t walk into the honeymoon suite to find them doing more than talking.

For all I know, Liam broke it off with Shelby and told Zoey that he wants her back. Or the cheating asshole could have just lied to her about breaking it off with Shelby.

But would Zoey go that far when Liam still thinks that we’re together?

I have no idea what to expect but I know Zoey is better than that. At least I think she is.

I take the elevator up and head for our room.

I pull out my keycard in my back pocket and slide it over the door.

The green light indicates that I’m free to enter.

Zoey didn’t lock the door.

That’s a good sign, right?

I brace myself as I push through the heavy door.

The lights inside the room are all off except for a small stream of light in the bathroom.

I don’t hear a sound, so I hope that means what I think it does.

Further into the dark room, I look over to the bed.

There’s only one lump on the left side of the bed.

Zoey.

And she’s alone and asleep.

I exhale a breath and then head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and take a leak.

I don’t know what happened between them tonight or what they talked about. For all I know, I don’t have a fake girlfriend anymore, but I guess I’ll find out in the morning.

Chapter Twelve

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