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Forgotten Rules: A Brother's Best Friend Romance Page 5
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Page 5
As for Morgan, she doesn’t do parties. Said she’d rather stay home and read. I have to agree with her on this one. I saw a guy throw up into a plant earlier, and that’s making me wonder why I showed up.
I lumber around the party, eyelids growing heavier with each reluctant step, and check my phone. Eleven thirty—I’m usually in bed by now. Time elapses at a painfully slow pace. I drink alone for twenty minutes, watch wasted people play spin the bottle for thirty. God, I’m bored. An hour and a half later, I wonder if I should call it a night.
“Kass, finally.”
His voice is my answer.
I should’ve called it a night hours ago.
I swivel around, anger simmering beneath my skin.
“What do you want, Blake?”
“Have you seen Winter?”
Are you fucking kidding me?
“You do realize that’s the first thing you’ve said to me since you dumped me over text, and you chose ‘Have you seen Winter’?”
He winces. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be an asshole. It’s just… I really need to know where she is.”
Deep breaths, Kass.
“And I need to know how you can have your head so far up your own ass you lack basic human decency.” I give him my best fuck you smile. “Too bad we don’t always get what we want.”
His jaw drops.
With that said, I walk off.
The farther I get, the quicker any remnant of the love I ever felt for the idiot is drained out of my system. On second thought, I don’t care that Blake dumped me.
He lost me.
I didn’t lose shit.
The guys, Winter, and I were all supposed to carpool together after the party—Alex, the saint that he is, agreed to be the designated driver—but I’m not sticking around until midnight. I’ll just get an Uber. I’m texting Winter to let her know I’m going home early when someone taps me on the shoulder.
“Kass, hey.”
Seriously?
Again?
“Luke.” I barely manage a smile and reprimand myself for being rude. It’s not his fault I’m having a bad night.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Why? So you could also ask me where Winter is?
“Do you want a drink?”
No, I want to sleep.
“I’m good, thanks.”
“You sure?” he insists.
“Hundred percent. I was thinking of calling it a night.”
“Already? The party’s just started.” He sounds disappointed.
“I know, but I’m exhausted.”
He nods. “Oh, all right, then. Before you go, I wanted to ask…”
Please don’t ask me out.
“I was wondering if—”
“There you are.”
My breathing spikes when I take in the six foot something of sarcasm and muscles next to me. Holding a red cup in one hand and what seems to be a brownie in the other, Will stares at me, lazy smirk on display, eyes a bit red from… I’m not sure I want to know. At first, I wonder why he was looking for me. Then I realize I don’t give a damn, and he’s bringing me the perfect excuse on a silver platter.
“About time. What took you so long?”
Luke frowns.
“I asked Will to…”
Think, Kass, think.
My eyes drop to his brownie.
“Get me some food.”
In one move, I snatch the brownie out of Will’s hand.
Will’s eyes widen. “Kass, wai—”
But he’s too late. I nearly groan in satisfaction as I chew and swallow it whole. It’s so good I’m not even sorry.
“I’m also driving her home,” Will tells Luke, grabbing my wrist and dragging me away pronto.
Damn it, his idea is so much better.
As soon as we turn the corner, he cracks up.
“What?”
He laughs louder. “You just—”
“What, Will? Spit it out.”
“Trust me, you should’ve spit it out.”
Panic settles in my chest.
“What? What do you mean?”
“Just give it thirty minutes, control freak. You’ll know what I’m talking about.”
It dawns on me.
“Will…” My eyes grow the size of a planet. “Will, what was in that brownie?”
“Do you really need me to say it?”
No.
No.
No, no, no.
“How much?” This can’t be happening.
“A lot. Like a lot.”
No.
Fuck.
Shit.
I did not just eat a pot brownie.
“I’m so dead.” I pace around the room. “My mom always waits up for me. What the hell am I going to do? I can’t go home like this. I can’t go home high! I can already feel it. I think I’m going to faint.” I raise a hand to my forehead like I expect to find a scorching fever.
He scoffs. “Calm down, drama queen. You can’t feel shit this early.”
“It’s hot in here. Why is it so hot in here?” I hyperventilate. “How could you not tell me? This is all your fault.”
“Me?” He laughs again. “You didn’t even give me a chance to speak before you inhaled the whole thing.”
“Was it yours?” Not important, but I’m curious.
“No. It was for a friend.”
We don’t speak until Will breaks out laughing again.
“Shut up. This isn’t funny.” I swat him in the arm, but he ignores me. So, I push him—more like try to. He barely tumbles back. “Stop laughing!”
He doesn’t give me the time of day, still howling. Irritated, I rattle his shoulder with hits until he snaps, snatching both my wrists and yanking me closer.
A little too close.
My breath gets stuck my throat.
I can’t help zeroing in on his lips, which are perfectly level with my eyes. It barely lasts three seconds. But three seconds is more than enough. Because something has shifted between us.
He’s not laughing anymore.
We stand there, staring at each other in utter silence. Then, as though we’ve both realized the exact same thing, we back away at superhuman speed.
Will clears his throat. “Then don’t.”
“What?” I can’t remember what we were talking about.
“Don’t go home.”
“You’re right. Good idea. I’ll just sleep in the dumpster outside. Looks real comfy.” I turn on my heels. “Thanks for nothing.”
“Where are you going?” he asks.
I shoulder check him as I walk. “I don’t know. Somewhere, anywhere. I’m going to try and find a way to stop this high from happening.”
I’m halfway to the front door when he calls, “Hey, control freak?”
I stop short.
“I think I might be able to help you with that.”
He’s right where I left him, except that now… he’s smiling. And it’s one of his I’m going to get us in trouble smile. I hesitate for a second, then think, Screw it.
I’m already in trouble.
He can’t possibly make it worse.
Wriggling in Will’s passenger seat, I tap my foot anxiously. I wasn’t sold when he told me his miracle remedy required for me to drive somewhere with him. But after he promised he hadn’t been drinking five times, I let him convince me. Although not without asking him why his car was at the party since Blake gave him a ride.
He said something about lending it to Alex to drive to Bianca’s since his ball-busting folks took away his keys again and he had no way of getting there. I’ll never wrap my head around how close these boys are. Lend someone your car just so he can come to a party? Talk about bromance.
“How did you know to come and save me?” I think back to my awkward encounter with Luke.
“I know a girl who needs an excuse to leave when I see one.” He shrugs, eyes fixated on the road. “What’s up with you and golden boy
anyway? I thought you were giving him a chance.”
“He’s cute, sure, it’s just… I’m not really looking to date right now.” I press my forehead to the tinted glass.
“I get it. Can’t be easy. Having just broken up with Blake and all…”
My blood turns to ice.
How does he…
No one’s supposed to know.
He snickers at my surprise. “Oh, come on. Alex? Really? The guy can’t hold his tongue to save his life. It’s a miracle he didn’t tell Kendrick.”
“But… How long have you known?”
“Since the bonfire.”
I shrink in my seat.
We all went to this back-to-school bonfire near the beginning of senior year, aka the party where Blake and I first slept together. Losing your virginity in a tent in the woods? Not my best moment. Literally. I didn’t even have a good time. Blake lasted twenty-four seconds and fell asleep on top of me.
“Oh, God.” I bury my face between my hands. “Don’t tell me you heard us.”
“Nah, I went to take a piss in the middle of the night and saw Blake sneaking into your tent. I thought you were cheating, so I told Alex. Then he practically vomited the truth.”
“Oh.” I withdraw my hands from my reddened cheeks.
The tension in the air is somewhat thicker than it used to be. I can’t help scanning his features. The sharpness of his jaw, the slight crease on his forehead as he focuses on the road, his short, messy hair. Zoey’s voice echoes in my head. Hottie Blondie’s right there for the taking.
And all I can think is…
Is he?
“Where are we going anyway?”
He smiles and takes an unexpected left.
“To get you unhigh.”
Kassidy
“Damn, Martins, I didn’t know you had so many coins,” I say, climbing out of Will’s car and slamming the door. I don’t recognize this neighborhood. Or the fancy, half-stone, half-stucco modern house standing tall in front of me. But then again I’ve never been to Will’s place before.
I take in the property: its long asphalt driveway, perfectly mowed lawn, and two garages. What the heck do his parents do for a living?
“This way.” He motions.
I follow as he rounds the garages, stops near a high wooden gate, and pushes it open. The backyard is big and well furnished. It has a pool, a barbecue, a pool house, and a hot tub inside what seems to be a custom-built gazebo.
“What are we doing?” I question.
Will leads me straight to the hot tub, removes the cover without a word, and chews down on his bottom lip not to laugh, like even he knows what he’s about to say is bullshit.
“I heard hot tubs sober you up.”
He can’t be serious.
“I-I don’t even have a swimsuit.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “So? You have underwear on, don’t you?”
That’s the last thing he says before taking off his shirt and pants in front of me.
No heads-up.
He just strips.
I swear I can feel my throat tighten when I take in his hard, defined body. Even in the dim-lit backyard, my eyes effortlessly trace along the lines of his abs. Broad shoulders, strong pec—
Holy fuck, he has the V.
If you’re down to create a law that states William Martins has to be shirtless twenty-four seven, raise your hand.
He throws his T-shirt at me—probably for me to wear—but I’m so busy drooling over him that I jump out of my skin, failing to catch it. He laughs as I bend over to pick it up. I don’t know if he saw me eye-fuck him, but if he did, he doesn’t comment on it, which I’m immensely thankful for.
“Put it on if you want.” He gestures to the balled-up shirt in my hands.
I fold my arms over my chest. “This is BS. Hot tubs don’t sober you up.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. You sure as hell aren’t going to find out just standing there, are you?” He flashes me a cocky grin, slipping into the hot tub himself. Motion-activated blue lights come on, reflecting in the water.
“I don’t even feel high. Maybe I’m immune or something.”
He scoffs. “It’s only been twenty minutes. And that brownie was for a six-foot-five football player. Trust me, you’re going to feel it. Come on, live a little. Or… is fun against your control- freak lifestyle?”
The challenge in his voice eats away at me.
I can’t believe myself when I tell him to turn around and peel off my clothes to sling his T-shirt over my head. I tug at its extremities, relieved to see it covers everything it needs to, and usher myself to the tub, dipping my big toe into the sizzling water. I can’t help flinching at the temperature, accidentally brushing Will’s shoulder on my way in. The contact turns my stomach into a gigantic bag of knots.
What’s with me tonight?
Oh, you know, you just had a pot brownie the size of your hand.
I’m about to give Will some “You were saying?” attitude when it hits me.
Like a tornado.
Like a punch in the face.
My head starts to spin.
My whole body relaxes.
Shit…
I’m high.
“You did not.” I chortle so loud my own ears hate me. I don’t think I’ve ever been this annoying in my life. And the craziest part? I don’t even care. Being high is not as bad as I thought it would be, although I would never willingly put myself through this experience again.
I’ve spent the last thirty minutes laughing for no reason, putting on a killer show for Will, who seems to be having the time of his life roasting me.
“Why is it so hard for everyone to believe?” he argues.
“Because you’re… you. You’re Will, Willy, Willy Wonka.” I’m so proud of my new nickname for him I could high-five myself. “You’re the guy who shoves fries up his nose to make his friends laugh. You’re against relationships. So, working at a retirement home for a whole summer? Forgive me for having doubts.”
His face goes from amused to serious in a heartbeat. “What makes you think I’m against relationships?”
I’m a bit taken aback. “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you’ve never been in one?”
There was a rumor going around school these past few weeks. Something about a cheerleader having a massive crush on him. Last I heard, he let her down easy. Almost makes you wonder if he ever… gets lucky. I mean, a guy has needs, right?
“I’m not against relationships. I think they can be good.” His eyes meet mine. “Just not for me.”
Silence ensues.
I snort. “Deep.”
He fights a smile. “Shut up.”
“Let me guess, Willy’s afraid of commitment?”
“It’s not that I’m afraid of it, I’m just not…” He pauses. “Interested in it. Feels kind of pointless to me. Like it would only make my life more complicated. Plus, aren’t relationships just watching someone slowly get sick of you anyway?”
His last question bounces around in my head. That’s exactly what my father used to say. Also what I’ve been saying since my disastrous breakup with Blake. The difference is, in my case, I’ve always known this was nothing but a temporary feeling. I can’t imagine feeling like this forever.
A life without love?
That’s way too sad.
“Man, you must be horny all the time if you think that way.”
Smirking, he stares me dead in the eyes and says, “I said I don’t do love, control freak. I never said I don’t fuck.”
My cheeks combust.
I’m so unfamiliar with the way these words make me feel I’m tempted to sink underwater to try and wash the blush off me. I swear if I could hold my breath without dying, I’d be gone by now. So, he has meaningless hookups? Is he good? I wonder if he has a big…
Heart.
“So, you’re a hit it once and quit it kind of guy. Noted.”
“Eh. More like hit it again and again, then quit
it,” he shamelessly admits.
I wonder if he’s better than Blake.
Probably.
Everybody’s better than Blake.
“What can I say? They always come back for more,” he says as a joke, but I know it’s true.
Well, he sure is honest.
“Must be nice. Never getting attached.”
“It’s not that hard, really. I don’t understand why it’s so difficult for some girls to differentiate sex and love.”
“Spoken like a guy who’s never been in a relationship.”
His smile falters for a split second.
Oh, don’t think I didn’t catch that, Willy.
“Who was it?”
“Who?” he asks.
“The girl who broke your heart.”
He arches an eyebrow. “How can you be so sure someone broke my heart?”
“Easy. The broken things don’t break on their own.”
He laughs. “Did you just call me a thing?”
“Yep. Because that’s what you are. A thing. An object. You don’t feel,” I tease, gliding shoulders-deep into the water.
He mock gasps.
“That’s not true.”
A beat of silence.
“Sometimes I get hungry.”
I break into a fit of chuckles, accidentally getting water into my mouth and choking because I’m classy like that.
“Sorry, not fooling me. Don’t you know? Those who pretend not to care, care too much.” I stick a finger in his direction.
“Spoken like a true hopeless romantic,” he scoffs, using my own lines against me.
Annoyed, I splash him. He returns the favor. We go back and forth for a while. It’s all fun and games until I realize we’re sitting side by side. We were on opposite ends of the tub five seconds ago.
Nothing but silence.
“Careful, control freak.” His voice is low. “High hopes will break your heart.”
I think I see his eyes drop to my lips.
“So, that’s it? You’re just going to be alone for the rest of your life? Pile up meaningless hookups and avoid anything real?”
“Maybe.” He shrugs. “I don’t know shit about the future. Never have. I just know what I want now.”