The Rules of Heartbreak: An Enemies-to-Lovers/Next-Door Neighbor Romance (The Heartbreak Series Book 1)

by Brittany Taylor

  He continues dragging the tip of his finger from where he left off. His entire body is pressed against mine, his hips slowly moving back and forth against me. The hallway is nearly empty. We’re all the way in the back where it’s darkest, and those exiting the bathroom don’t bother glancing in our direction. They’re too eager to get back to the dance floor.

  “What do you think?” I can’t help it. My body flutters every time I play this game with Dallas, answering a question with a question.

  His finger is now tracing the curve of my breast, dipping into the delicate space between them. His cock grows harder, and his hips push impossibly closer.

  “I think there’s more than what you’re telling me. It’s odd.” He smirks as he glances down, watching how his own hand moves along my stomach down to the bottom hem of my dress. He slides his fingers under, stopping them for only a second. He traces small circles on my skin. I lift my leg, halfway wrapping it around his calf.

  “What’s odd?” I ask him.

  “You seem to be proud of your rules, but you aren’t very good at following them.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  A humorless laugh spills from his mouth as he drags his fingers the rest of the way between my legs, finding my clit.

  “Oh,” he says, bringing his mouth in front of mine. “I think I do.”

  I gasp as his fingers make slow circles between my folds. I rock against his hand as his palm cups me. This man knows exactly what he’s doing.

  “I, um…” I clear my throat, attempting to gather my thoughts. He keeps his hand moving as I talk. “I told you I’m not interested in a relationship.”

  My breath catches in my throat, and if he keeps up with his pace, I know it won’t be long before I fall apart against his hand.

  “Lucky for you, neither am I.” With his free hand, he releases my wrist and brings it to my chin, gripping it with his long, strong fingers. He dips his head far enough to slam his lips against mine. I immediately open my mouth when he coaxes it open with his tongue. He tastes like peppermint and bad decisions. I don’t know if this is a mistake or not, but I honestly don’t care.

  Bad decisions are always the ones that taste the sweetest, and Dallas is most likely going to leave me with a toothache.

  I lift my hand and wrap it around the back of his neck. My fingers dig into his deep brown hair. We’re both a tangled mess of limbs, hot breaths, and rushed touches.

  My thighs tighten around his arm, keeping his hand on me. He moves his fingers from my clit, digging them inside before moving them back. He pulls his mouth away from mine, tilting his head forward, pressing our foreheads together.

  I wrap my arm around his back, clutching his black t-shirt. My legs writhe against his, eager to reach my orgasm. I’m close to finishing, but at the same time I don’t want this to end. It has been too long since I’ve been with a man this way, and touching myself with my own hand this week while imagining Dallas was nothing compared to the real thing. This is completely different.

  “Come for me,” Dallas says before placing his mouth on mine again.

  My body ignites, tiny fireworks bursting across every inch of my skin. I rock my hips against him, riding his hand as I finish out my orgasm. Dallas’ mouth against mine mutes my scream, and I’m left moaning against him. I grab at his back, digging my nails into him.

  After I finish, he moves his hand out from between my legs. We stare at each other while I attempt to catch my breath, wrapping my mind around what just happened. Dallas doesn’t speak, only staring at me with his laser-focused blue eyes. They’re nearly black with the shadows we’re covered in.

  I think back to our conversation and how Dallas has now found out one of my rules. I don’t intend on being in a relationship, but neither does he. His admission fell from his smooth mouth before he used it to claim mine.

  Under the dim lights of the hallway, he lifts his hand and places the tip of one of his fingers in his mouth. The gesture alone brings heat to my cheeks. I’d never had a man taste me afterward, and a part of my heart flutters at his motion.

  After he puts his finger in his mouth, he pulls it back out and drags it across my lips. “Before I told you I didn’t know if I should be angry or thankful you sent me that picture.” He smirks, backing away from me.

  I rest my head against the wall behind me and stare at him with hooded eyes. “And were you able to decide?”

  “I think you already know the answer to that question.” Dallas moves to the exit door in the little corner of the hallway we’ve been standing in. He doesn’t offer me another glance before he pushes against the door and steps outside, leaving me alone in the hallway to catch my breath.

  Rule # 3

  If you decide to sleep with someone, keep it strictly under the sheets.

  Chapter Twelve

  I’m nervous to go to work. To be honest, it’s the most nervous I’ve been since landing this job at the bar.

  After the heated moment between me and Dallas in the hallway at the club, I found Vada still seated at the bar waiting for me. She asked what had taken me so long, and I used the excuse that I got caught up talking with a woman who’d had a little too much to drink in the stall next to mine. It was a bald-faced lie and it stung as it fell from my mouth, but there was also no way I could tell Vada the person who just gave me the most mind-blowing orgasm in the back of the hallway was her brother. I didn’t stay long after, telling her I was too tired.

  It’s been well over twelve hours since my encounter with Dallas last night, and I still haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. The memory of the way it felt to have his mouth move across my throat…the way his hand cupped me, his finger sliding across my clit…it was as if his caresses were phantom touches, refusing to disappear and forcing me to remember. The memories are on a never-ending reel, and if I’m being honest, I don’t want them to stop.

  The thought of Dallas’ hand between my legs immediately causes my thighs to react, clenching as I walk into the bar. The dining room and bar are empty since this is one of the few days of the week where we’re only open for dinner.

  I breathe out a sigh of relief when I don’t see Vada, and an even bigger one when I don’t see Dallas. I’m still not sure she wouldn’t be able to see that I was hiding something from her. I also don’t know how to act around Dallas.

  I’m not entirely sure what last night meant or how it changes things between us. I know in some way it did, but I don’t know how much. He vaguely mentioned him not being interested in a relationship either, and that gave me a small amount of reprieve.

  Ordinarily, I’d find Dallas or Vada in the dining area of the bar. Instead, I don’t see anyone. It’s completely empty. The chairs are still resting upside down on top of the tables. The music is still turned down low, barely audible over the noise coming from the kitchen. I drop my purse off behind the bar before making my way into the back, unsure of who I will find today. A few days out of the week, another chef named Brandon fills in for Colton, helping with more of the prep work than the actual cooking of the meats. I’m just not sure which one of them I’ll find today.

  “Hello?” I ask once I step through the swinging double doors.

  “Back here, Sloan.” Colton peeks his head out from the exit door leading to the back of the building where all the smokers are located. Large plumes of smoke billow out from three capped smokers built into brick bases standing four feet tall.

  When I reach Colton, he’s still standing near the door. As I get a full view of him, I notice he’s holding a binder in his right hand.

  “Hey, Colton.”

  “Hey.” He grins, his eyes brightening behind his thick-rimmed glasses. It’s strange, but I don’t feel like I’ve spent much time with Colton. In fact, this might be the first time we’ve had a conversation with just us two.

  He looks down at the binder in his hand then lifts it to show me. “I was just looking through this binder full of cover songs to see which one
s you could play for your first performance.”

  Oh, shit. I’d completely forgotten.

  “Cover songs?” I ask him. My throat swells with nervousness. I’ve been too wrapped up in the back and forth between me and Dallas to remember I still have to practice with Colton’s classmate and learn new songs—and perform them on stage.

  “Yeah.” He shrugs. “I didn’t think you had any original ones, so I figured this might be the best bet. I borrowed this from one of the bar owners down the street who also plays in a cover band. It was just an idea.”

  “I can look it over.” I give him a reassuring smile and reach for the binder. He hands it to me, a hopeful expression filling his face.

  “Thanks. I’ll set you up with my friend to practice sometime next week. I want to get a little promotion behind this thing before we start it.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Great.” His voice falls away, and it’s then I notice the shift in his mood. His expression changes and his shoulders fall forward, almost as if he’s relieved. As a matter of fact, he looks exhausted, maybe even worn out.

  “Is everything okay?” I’m certain Colton and I are not at the stage in our friendship where he is going to divulge any piece of personal life, but as a fellow human being, it feels like it’s the natural thing to do.

  He sighs, removes his glasses, and rubs one of his eyes with his knuckle. He quickly places his glasses back on his nose and walks toward the center smoker. I follow him, wrapping my arms around the binder and holding it to my chest.

  “I’m fine.” He waves me off, opening the lid. He picks up one of the large metal pokers. “I’ve just been super busy with school and work.”

  “I’ve heard.”

  “You’ve heard?” he asks me. I can practically hear his eyes roll with his question. “Let me guess, Vada said something to you.”

  “Not really.” In a way, she did, but I’m hoping if I don’t let Colton in on how much I know, he’ll share with me. It feels good to have this kind of talk with him, one that doesn’t involve smoked meats or me singing up on stage.

  Colton hesitates, poking at a few chunks of meat as they slowly rotate on the carousel. “I know Vada wants more than what I’m able to give her.”

  “Oh,” I say. “Do you not feel the same way she does?”

  “No, I do, and she knows that.” He sighs, moving one last piece of meat before closing the lid. “I just mean she wants more than I can give her right now.”

  I open my mouth, ready to answer him. I can tell his feelings for Vada are buried deep. He’s conflicted, and it’s clearly wearing on him as much as it is her.

  Before I’m able to speak, he stops me. “It’s complicated and I wish I could say more, but I can’t. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. There’s just too much…” He inhales a deep breath and blinks several times as if he’s brushing away his thoughts. He starts to walk back into the kitchen. “I’ll see you inside.”

  “Okay.”

  It’s been three hours since I talked to Colton outside and he gave me the binder of cover songs to go over. For the most part, I haven’t thought too much about it since. It’s not that I’m not excited about the prospect of singing to a large group of people; it’s a combination of two other reasons that has my mind floating off elsewhere. The first is that we are in full business mode tonight. The restaurant is packed wall to wall, and it seems as if my to-make drink list will never end. Just when I think I’ve made it to the end of my stack of orders, Vada brings up another twenty.

  The second and most nerve-racking distraction is the thought of Dallas. I am pathetic when it comes to trying to shut off my thoughts. I can’t stop thinking about the way I felt under his hands, the way he molded me, easily bending me to his will. My cheeks enflame as I dig my scoop into the ice bin and fill three glasses before pouring the mixture I just spent the past thirty seconds shaking in a tall silver canister. I lift the cup and evenly distribute the bright green liquid.

  “Hey, girl. Sorry to ask, but are those almost ready?” Vada sidles up beside me, her heavy breaths spurting out of her chest in quick succession.

  “Yep,” I tell her, popping my lips. I grab three cherries and drop one into each glass. “Just had to add these.”

  “Thank you.” She sighs. “You’re a lifesaver.”

  “Not really.” I attempt to laugh her off, knowing she’s only being dramatic because the restaurant is dramatically busy for a Sunday. Her mood tends to shift in the direction of the restaurant. If it’s loud and chaotic, so is she.

  My mind shifts back to my second distraction of the night. I try not to be too obvious by shifting my gaze to the front door, waiting to see if Dallas walks in, but I fail. Miserably.

  He hasn’t shown up yet.

  Vada is too busy to notice her brother hasn’t arrived, and since I haven’t spoken to Colton, I assume he hasn’t noticed either. Maybe she assumes he’s working in the back with Colton, but I know he isn’t. He’s supposed to be out here with us tonight, hence why she’s racking up her step count for the day and my drink list never seems to end.

  “Where’s Dallas?” I ask her. She still doesn’t know about what happened between us last night, and I’m hoping my question comes off more business related than personal. “I thought he was working tonight.”

  She shrugs, pushing her bottom lip. “He’s not in the back with Colton? That’s strange. He must have gotten caught up doing something. He never misses work unless it’s something that’s absolutely worth it.” Vada doesn’t break her concentration away from what she’s working on, loads the three drinks onto her small tray, and walks off without another word.

  I’m filling a draft beer when I see a familiar face sit in the vacant barstool across from me.

  “Long time no see.” He displays his pearly white teeth. “Sloan, right?” He points to me across the counter then crosses his arms over the wood like he did the first night we met.

  “Oh, yeah.” I nod, grinning. “Whiskey sour, right?”

  “Right.” He laughs over the music. “Name’s Gareth, but I’ll take the drink as well.”

  “Okay, Gareth.” I lift the glass and start to move a few seats down the row from where he’s sitting. “I’ll be right back to make that for you.”

  “Sure thing, darlin’.”

  Gareth’s use of the word slithers down the back of my neck, leaving me to remember how it was the first night I met him. He was charming but also forward, a little too forward. But I’m also the new person in a new city, and this is Texas after all. Maybe Gareth is just being extra kind, like when I go to the grocery store and the cashier calls me ‘sweetheart’.

  After I quickly drop off the beer, I dive right into making Gareth’s drink. I can feel his eyes on me the entire time I’m mixing it, all the way down to the last pour of liquor into the small glass.

  “Here you go.” I slide it to him as he hands me his credit card.

  “Do you mind keeping a tab open for me?” He grins, lifting his glass to his mouth.

  “No problem.”

  “Thanks, sweetheart.”

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Cashier or customer, it doesn’t matter. It seems to be a common term of endearment around here.

  “I didn’t get the chance to find out the last time I talked to you,” he starts. “Where are you from?”

  “Minnesota.” My eyes shift to the front door, finally catching Dallas walking in.

  Suddenly, I’m nervous. My mouth runs dry at the sight of his hands reaching up to his hair and adjusting the sleeves of his shirt. His expression is tense and dark under the warm lights of the restaurant. He weaves his way through the tables, only stopping occasionally to greet a customer. I watch as he disappears into the back without noticing me behind the bar.

  “Minnesota, huh? I’ve been up there a few times to go skiing with some friends of mine.”

  “What?” I turn back to Gareth, realizing I didn’t pay much attention to what he wa
s saying, something about skiing in Minnesota.

  His mouth curls and his eyebrows dip in confusion. “I was telling you I’ve been to Minnesota before. To go skiing.”

  “Right.” I attempt to give Gareth a grin. “It’s a great place to visit in the winter, but only if you can hack the frigid weather.”

  “Don’t let this Texan fool you.” Gareth laughs. “I’m pretty sure I can handle it. Maybe you can tell me some of the best places to check out the next time I’m up there.”

  “Sure.” I give Gareth a smile. He’s being kind, and the more I think about it, the more I realize I have no reason to not return his kindness.

  “Hey, Gareth. I can’t say I’m surprised to see you here.”

  My bottom lip falls away from my top when I turn to my right to find Dallas standing beside me. I’m unsure of how long he’s been behind the bar or how much of our conversation he’s heard.

  “Oh, hi Dallas.”

  He smirks, his eyes shimmering under the golden lights of the bar. The restaurant is dim aside from the lights overhead and the city lights out on the street pouring into the windows. The small amount of light is enough to highlight all of Dallas’ shadows, forcing them to show themselves even if just a fraction.

  “Isn’t this the fifth time I’ve seen you in here this week?” Dallas asks Gareth. “Tell me, which is it that keeps you coming back—the service or the food?”

  Gareth’s eyes shift between me and Dallas. A part of me deflates on the inside knowing Dallas has just put him on the spot. I try hard not to turn to Dallas and ask him why he feels the need to ask Gareth why he comes here so often. Obviously, Dallas knows Gareth enough to be on a first-name basis. There is clear tension between the two men.

  “Oh, well I think it’s both.” Gareth’s eyes shift back over to me, and another part of me slightly cringes with the way he’s looking at me.