Page 53 of Wrong Score

A glint of amusement lights his eyes, but he folds his arms, giving me a half-smile. “You think you can make it?”

I shrug nonchalantly. “You think I can’t?”

He doesn’t waste another second and holds out his cue stick for me, the weight of it solid in my hands as I grip it, setting my stance. The room falls into a curious hush, the energy shifting as everyone waits to see if I can pull it off.

I take a deep breath, lining up the shot with my gaze zeroed in on the last solid ball left on the table–Bex’s last shot before the eight ball. The whole bar feels like it’s holding its breath as I pull back and send the cue forward in one smooth motion. The solid ball sails cleanly across the table and drops into the corner pocket without hesitation.

Next I have the eight ball, and I do the same. Lining up and taking a deep inhale before making my shot. Within the second the eight ball too drops into the side pocket and disappears from view.

The bar erupts into cheers, everyone clearly impressed, and when I glance back at Bex, his expression is unreadable for a moment. But there’s a glimmer in his eyes. I didn’t make his wager for a truce on the hockey rink, but now we’re on an even playing field, and I won this round.

“Nice shot,” he says softly, the hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. “Didn’t realize you had that in you.”

I hand him back his cue stick with a grin. “At least my dad taught me something useful. Now pony up. What was the wish?”

He leans in, his voice low enough that only I can hear it over the noise. “If you want to hear it, you’ll have to wait until the end of the night.”

There’s a challenge in his tone, the kind that dares me to see where this night could go, and I can’t help but feel the thrill of it, the way he’s got me wondering about that birthday wish more than I probably should.

I should still be upset about the way he didn’t believe me about Reeve and Keely until that meeting in Sam’s office, but in fairness, the whispering and Reeve’s distraction on the ice isn’t exactly Bex’s fault. And now with things out in the open about Keely’s family history, things will get better.

Keely’s gotten some hate on social media, mostly from people who had money on the game or are die hard soccer fans. And honestly, just a couple internet trolls as it is, but it’s only been a few days since the story broke, and all in all, she and Reeve are handling it really well.

“Fine, but don’t keep me waiting for long. I’m not the patient type,” I say, closing my arms.

“No, I don’t think anyone who knows you would find that surprising.” And then heads over to re-rack the balls for the next two players on the bracket to play and I head back to the table with the girls.

For the last two hours, my mind has been a broken record, replaying the same thought.

What’s Bex’s birthday wish?

I’ve tried everything to distract myself—conversation, pool games, even scrolling aimlessly on my phone, but it’s no use. Bex Townsend is a mystery I can’t stop trying to solve. The anticipation has me bouncing my knee like a caffeine addict, but I’m not about to let him think he’s got me this wound up. That wish could be anything, but with Bex, anything feels priceless.

The pool tournament ended ages ago, and the night is winding down. Across the room, Lake heads toward Tessa, his easy smile still intact even though he’s clearly ready to call it a night. “Are you ready to go home? That baby needs some sleep,” he says, his hand drifting to her pregnant belly.

“Momma needs some sleep too,” Tessa agrees, taking his offered hand and carefully sliding off her stool. She pauses to hug Shawnie. “This was such a great night. Happy birthday.”

Shawnie smiles wide, gripping Tessa’s wrist warmly. “Thanks for coming. Get some rest before that baby makes his grand entrance.”

“I will,” Tessa promises, waving goodbye to everyone as Lake ushers her toward the exit.

Kaenan approaches next, wrapping an arm around Isla. “My mom texted. Berkeley refuses to go to sleep until you sing her a song goodnight, and the baby’s running a little warm from teething. We need to head out too,” he tells her, pressing a kiss to the top of Isla’s head.

I glance at my phone. Sure enough, it’s creeping close to midnight. The night is officially winding down, but I’m not leaving without answers. Not this time.

The other girls begin gathering their jackets, their respective partners filtering in to claim them. Shawnie, now renting a room in the penthouse since it’s mostly vacant anyway, will likely walk home with Ryker and Juliet. I’m the only one leaving solo, but that’s fine—I’m not going anywhere until I know what Bex would have wished for.

Bex, standing near the bar, is deep in conversation with Seven and Brynn. I know he won’t tell me anything with an audience, so I make my way to Aaron at the bar, pulling out my card. “Can you add Shawnie’s tab to mine?”

Aaron shakes his head, refusing my card. “Bex already covered it.”

I blink in surprise. “Oh, okay. Well, here’s my card for my tab, then.”

Aaron pushes it back toward me. “He covered yours too.”

My brows knit together. “He paid for mine?”

Aaron nods, filling a pint for another patron.

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