Breaking Rules

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Breaking Rules Page 23

by S. B. Alexander


  “I had to get CliffsNotes for English, and I spotted your mom’s picture on a book in a store in the city. But enough talk. You’re all mine tonight, and the only thing I want to hear is you moaning.”

  Every part of my body warmed as my heart swelled to huge proportions, knowing that I was one of the luckiest girls alive.

  Epilogue

  MONTANA

  May in South Carolina was as hot as the middle of summer. Then again, I did live in the South. The winter had had several days of cold weather, but I’d always laughed at those kids that came into school dressed as though a blizzard whipped around outside. A winter in New York would’ve been killer compared to the forty-degree temperatures that South Carolina experienced.

  I ran to school, knowing that I would be soaked in sweat. I couldn’t wait to share the good news with Train. I’d texted him to meet me on the front lawn. I’d wanted to tell him my big news on the phone last night, but then I wouldn’t have gotten to see his face.

  Cars of all shapes and sizes pulled into the lot, while kids loitered on the front lawn of the school, taking in the morning sun as they chatted and texted. We had one month left before graduation, and I was itching to get on with my life. I’d been the model student. My grades were better than ever. I hadn’t had the urge to tag, nor did I have anyone trying to get me expelled. School had been easy and great without Nina around.

  Elvira held her notebook in her arms and raked her brown gaze over me as I approached the shade tree we’d dubbed our hangout spot.

  “What’s with the happy face? Did you get laid again? God, Montana, you and Train are like glued together.”

  I stuck out my tongue at her. “So? You shouldn’t sound jealous. You got your main squeeze in Lou.” They’d been inseparable since the fall.

  I adored Lou, who was always the voice of reason, especially when the football team had lost in the playoffs back in early November. He’d been the one to crack jokes at the after-party, helping all the players to release some tensed mojo from losing.

  Train had been bummed even after the party, but his USC scholarship had overshadowed the loss.

  Elvira blushed. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Not until I tell Train,” I said.

  “Please tell me you’re not pregnant.” Her voice resonated with worry.

  I snorted. “Hell no.”

  Her shoulders visibly lowered as Reagan bounced up. “Who’s pregnant?”

  I rolled my eyes hard. If she’d heard before she reached Elvira and me, then the rest of the crowd had to have heard as well. By the end of the day, the rumor would be in full force.

  I checked the kids hanging out around us, glancing past Reagan’s wide hazel eyes. No one seemed to be lurking in our direction. I grabbed Reagan’s tanned arm. “Hush. I’m not. And it wouldn’t be cool to start that rumor.” I could envision Train going ballistic over a rumor like that.

  “You two would make great babies,” Reagan said, losing the freaked-out expression.

  With my blond hair and blue eyes and his sea-green eyes and brown hair that lightened in the sun, I agreed that our children would be knockouts. But we had a long way to go before we crossed that part of our relationship.

  “All right, Montana,” Elvira said. “Are you and Train ready to submit your computer project?”

  I let out an audible sigh, relieved that we were on to a new topic. “It’s all wrapped and ready to go.” Train and I had worked tirelessly on the author app that we designed for my mom. Her fans had been downloading the app left and right. In today’s class, we were scheduled to present the statistics on the app and how it was working out for my mom’s business.

  “We should get inside,” Reagan said.

  “You guys go ahead. I’m waiting on Train,” I said.

  As they went in, I made my way to the edge of the lawn, where it met the parking lot. I was about to send Train another text when Ferris stalked toward me. He had kept to himself after Train’s dad settled with him out of court. Ferris, or more like his parents, ended up paying a hefty fine into the thousands of dollars. Nina had done so as well.

  “Are you ready for graduation?” Ferris asked, still sporting spiked hair minus the sideburns.

  “I am,” I said as muscled arms came around me from behind.

  Train kissed my ear. “What’s going on?”

  Train and Ferris would never be friends, but Train didn’t tense anymore when Ferris was around.

  “We were talking about graduation,” Ferris said. “But I do want to invite you both to a party I’m having this weekend. I know we’re not friends, but I do owe your father a ton of thanks for not taking me to court. I was able to keep my academic scholarship with North Carolina State.”

  “Congrats on valedictorian,” I said.

  Ferris started for the building. “Hope to see you at the party.”

  Other students ran by as the bell rang.

  I checked out my buff boyfriend. “We’re going to be late.”

  His hair was damp. He wore his “Funk You” T-shirt, which hung over jeans that rode low on his hips.

  I planted two hands on his chest. “I do love this T-shirt, although the ‘Puck This’ one is also my favorite.”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “What say we puck this school and head to the beach?”

  “We have to present in computer class,” I said.

  He threaded his fingers through mine. “What did you want to tell me?”

  Oh yeah. I dipped into my bag and removed an envelope then held it up with two hands so that the return address faced him.

  He quickly scanned the envelope as his eyes went wide. “Seriously?”

  I nodded. “I got accepted to USC.” I’d also gotten accepted to the local college, but it was time that I spread my wings. My mom was happy and sad. She wanted me closer but understood that I had to start the next chapter of my life as an adult without her. Besides, she had Mr. Everly to keep her company. They were hot and heavy. And she’d written three books since we moved to South Carolina, so she had several publicity tours planned for next year.

  Train lifted me by the waist. “Fuck. We do need to celebrate.”

  I giggled. “After school. We can go surfing.” Train had been teaching me how to surf. I was also a much better swimmer, thanks to him.

  “Baby, I have other plans to celebrate this awesome news. It involves you and me naked. Then we can go surfing.”

  We walked into school at the same time the last bell rang.

  I didn’t care how we celebrated as long as I was with him.

  Dear Reader

  Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to read Breaking Rules. This book was a blast to write, and I hope you fell in love with Train and Montana like I did. If you would like to see more of the cast of characters in Breaking Rules or you just want to drop me a line, my email is [email protected].

  Also, when you have a moment, a short review would be greatly appreciated. Your help in sharing this wonderful story would mean the world to me.

  With love

  Susan

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  More titles by S.B. Alexander

  To read samples and find out where to purchase all books visit: http://sbalexander.com/books

  Have you met the Maxwell Boys? If not, turn the page to read Chapter 1 in Dare to Kiss.

  The Maxwell Series:

  Dare to Kiss – Book 1

  Dare to Dream – Book 2

  Dare to Love – Book 3

  Dare to Dance – Book 4

  The Maxwell Series Boxed Set – Books 1-3

  Dare to Kiss Coloring Book Companion

  The Vampire SEAL Series:

  On the Edge of Humanity –
Book 1

  On the Edge of Eternity – Book 2

  On the Edge of Destiny – Book 3

  On the Edge of Misery – Book 4

  Dare to Kiss - Chapter 1

  The ball left my hand and zigzagged on its way to home plate, missing Tyler Langley’s glove. I kicked the dirt in frustration as he yelled something back at me—what, I couldn’t say. The buzzing in my ears masked all sound around me. I usually got this imaginary bee in my head when I was upset or angry with myself or even when I was nervous. I didn’t know why it happened. My psychiatrist said it was a way for my body to protect me. It sounded like a bunch of crap, but what did I know about my brain?

  Tyler came running out to the mound, waving his catcher’s mitt at me. His mouth was moving, but the little bee zipping around in my head was still loud. When he reached the pitcher’s mound, he tipped up my chin with his gloved hand.

  Embarrassed at my performance, I looked away. I hated myself right now.

  “Look at me.”

  I shook my head.

  “It’s okay, Lacey. You’re just tired. You have both your fast pitch and curveball ready. The slider isn’t that important for tryouts. It’s only high school baseball.”

  My head snapped up, and I met his soft blue eyes that had helped to lessen the constant noise in my head. “Easy for you to say. This is important to me.” I pushed him away.

  What was I doing? I didn’t mean to be such a bitch. He’d been patient with me over these past few weeks, helping me practice. He’d given up some of his summer fun in between his football practice, and here I was giving him attitude.

  “I know it is, but you have two excellent pitches, and the coach is only requiring two for tryouts.” He enfolded my hand with his callused one.

  A small twinge of jealousy hit me. Things came easy for Tyler, it seemed. Whenever he’d thrown a few pitches to me to show me how the curveball looked, my mouth would always fall open at how perfectly he pitched. He’d played on the baseball team his first year in high school, but gave it up when the football coach asked him to concentrate on football. He’d agreed because he loved the game more than baseball, and it gave him better scholarship opportunities.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m just tired.” I pushed the envy aside. It was stupid of me to feel it in the first place. My performance had nothing to do with Tyler’s talents. I was just extremely hard on myself. I strove for perfection. I had to make the team. Everything I’d wanted was riding on this year, my senior year, and my last chance to show the scouts at Arizona State University that I was worthy of a scholarship. They’d seen me play at my old school, Crestview High in California, and were so impressed that they sat down with me to discuss a potential offer to play for their school.

  They gave me two stipulations. One, I had to continue to improve my pitching skills, and two, keep up my grades. If I met these requirements I had a shot at not only a scholarship, but at being the first female to grace an all boys’ college baseball team—or at least ASU’s.

  “It’s getting late. Why don’t we call it quits? You need to rest your arm.” Tyler tapped my ball cap.

  I nodded. I did need my arm loose if I was going to continue to practice hard up until tryouts next week. I prayed I could regain my skills. I’d gone a whole year without picking up a baseball. My hands started to shake as I thought about Mom and my sister Julie.

  “Are you okay?” He wiped a tear off my cheek.

  “Yeah.” Not really.

  Almost a year after Mom and Julie’s deaths, I wasn’t sure I had the confidence to face a new life in a new school and a new home. Did Dad and I make the right decision to move clear across the country? My psychiatrist, Dr. Meyers, had recommended it. The memories and the pain had been too much for my dad, my brother Rob, and me. We weren’t healing. We weren’t even living. I’d abandoned my friends. My dad moped around, hiding in his home office. My brother Rob turned down his dream of playing for the LA Dodgers.

  Tyler flicked his head toward home plate. “Come on. Pack up.”

  We walked over to the dugout in silence. Once inside, I packed my bag, removed my cleats, and slipped my feet into a pair of flip-flops.

  As Tyler changed into his tennis shoes, he said, “I’ll get the lights and meet you at your car. We can go get a shake and fries before you head home. I know you like dunking your fries into your shake.” He grinned. It was the same cocky grin that made the girls I’d seen watching us occasionally swoon over him, especially with his blond locks that had a way of curling around his ball cap, and, of course, his ocean-blue eyes.

  He was sweet, trying to cheer me up. We’d met when I’d barged into Coach Dean’s office right after I moved here in July. I wanted to talk to him about tryouts and the schedule. I didn’t think the coach would be busy. After all, it was summertime, and baseball didn’t ramp up until tryouts in the fall. Boy, how wrong I’d been. I’d walked into Coach’s office without knocking, and interrupted a meeting between Tyler, Coach Dean, the football coach, and a scout for a large university. Immediately, Coach jumped out of his desk chair, yelling at me for my lack of manners, and to get out. As I slumped my shoulders, cowering like a turtle retreating into her shell, someone in the room had snorted. As I scurried out, I caught a glimpse of Tyler with a grin on his face. Since that day we’d become friends, mostly hanging out on the ball field for practices.

  I wasn’t sure if Coach Dean put him up to it or if Tyler just felt sorry for me because Coach humiliated me. In either case, it didn’t matter. I’d made one friend, and to me an important one. He knew the game of baseball well. Maybe the fresh start was panning out.

  “Okay” was all I said as Tyler grabbed his bag and ducked into the tunnel.

  Then I lifted my Van Halen T-shirt and tied it into a knot to let the night air cool my sweating skin. The style wasn’t the best-looking fashion statement, but I didn’t care. It was approaching nine p.m. Who would see me at this time of night? Then I remembered Tyler wanted to grab a bite to eat. I shrugged. I’d make myself presentable before we got to the restaurant.

  I threw my bag over my shoulder as I walked off the baseball field of Kensington High in Ashford, Massachusetts. Dad and I had chosen this school because it had a better academic program, and a better coach than the other schools we researched. I hoped for the umpteenth time that we had made the right decision.

  Once at my car, I fished my keys out of my purse. I drove a beat-up Mustang, compliments of my dad. He was trying to restore it. But time was non-existent for him. He had recently opened a new nightclub in the heart of Cambridge, a city known for college kids and a vibrant music scene. He also owned a nightclub in LA managed by Rob, my twenty-two-year-old brother. He had offered to stay in LA and run the business for Dad. In addition to his nightclubs on both coasts now, Dad also owned and managed Eko Records, a well-known label that had signed many top-ten bands and pop singers. The flexibility of the business afforded him the opportunity to work from anywhere.

  I took off my ball cap, running my hand over my long brown ponytail. I threw my bag in the backseat and slid into the driver’s side. Dad had said to let it idle a few minutes to get the oil circulating before taking off. I inserted the key into the ignition and turned. The click, click, click sound wasn’t good. I tried again. Nothing.

  Shit! I banged my hands against the steering wheel. Damn car. Dad and I needed to have a talk about better transportation.

  Heaving a sigh, I got out of the Mustang, looking around. The sports complex stood slightly to my right with the ball field on its left. Aside from Tyler’s SUV, the only other vehicle was a black truck, which sat under a tree in the far corner of the parking lot. I glanced out at the field, but didn’t see anyone. What was taking Tyler so long? The lights to the stadium were still on, which meant he must’ve gotten tied up with something.

  Ducking half my body back into the Mustang, I lifted my purse off the seat when a loud thump on the back of my car startled me. My heart rate ki
cked into overdrive.

  I jerked my head up. Some guy I didn’t know stood behind my car. Panic set in. Since the police hadn’t found the creeps who had invaded our home and murdered my mom and sister, I’d been extremely paranoid.

  I opened my glove compartment, grasped the handle of my nine-millimeter handgun, then slowly got out. The stranger seemed frozen. He stared at me as though he were contemplating his next move. I released a quiet breath, placing my free hand on the roof of my car and the other behind my back then met his gaze. All sense of where I was vanished in that moment. The copper eyes staring back at me made my whole body quiver and my brain seize.

  Calm down. Calm down. Yeah, right. Between the sudden panic attacks that had become normal for me and trying hard to keep from blacking out, I was screwed.

  Forget the tingles. My freaking belly had a thousand butterflies fluttering inside. I swallowed in order to get the saliva to coat my dry throat. Jeepers, I needed one of those five-gallon jugs of ice cold Gatorade that a team usually throws over the winning coach.

  After a few more swallows, I decided to give my voice a shot. The last thing I wanted to do was show fear. Once I showed any sign of it, I was afraid he would grab me with those muscular arms and drag me screaming into the nearby woods, where he would kill me the way they killed my sister and mom.

  “You…have a problem?” I asked. I didn’t think this guy was going to hurt me, but I couldn’t be sure. Regardless, I had the gun in my hand, and I was committed now.

  “You need help?” the stranger asked as he stepped around the car toward me.

  “I wouldn’t come any farther,” I warned. My fingers wound tightly around the handle of the gun. My muscles were tense enough to burst at any second.

 

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