The Rule Book (Rule Breakers #1)

by Jennifer Blackwood

  “I didn’t mean nothing by it, man,” the guy stuttered. He was at least six inches shorter than Brogan, and even without the height difference, my boss had the intimidation factor in spades.

  “Go home. Shower. Sober up.” Brogan commanded in his boardroom voice, and the guy stared at him in awe. “Go,” he said once more, and Pepé sped toward the door.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I asked, not quite fully comprehending that he was here. In the same bar as me. Hell, was he here for me?

  “Friend’s birthday party.” He nodded over to the group of guys by center stage, stumbling with mics and arguing over the black binder of karaoke songs.

  “Thanks for being our savior,” Zoey said.

  All I could do was stare at Brogan in his bicep-hugging black T-shirt, wishing that he’d pull me into a much-needed embrace. His tattoos were very visible tonight, and as I glanced around the bar, many of the girls were sending appreciative stares his way. I felt a full-body burn, starting at my toes and ending at my scalp, both from Brogan being this close to me and the fact that I’d ruined my chances with him. Any girl in here could wind up going home with him tonight, and a spear of jealousy sliced through me. See, this was why flings were a bad thing. Obviously, I was way in over my head and turning into a crazy person.

  A jovial smile played at his lips, but his brows were pulled together into dramatic slashes. He seemed just as uptight, maybe even more, than last night.

  Zoey cleared her throat, breaking the long moment that I’m sure we were standing there silently staring at each other.

  I regained my composure and remembered that these two hadn’t officially met, unless behind-a-tree-stalking counted. “Brogan, this is my best friend and roommate, Zoey. Zoey this is my boss, Mr. Brogan Starr.”

  “Please, call me Brogan.” He extended his hand, he and Zoey shook, and the dip in her shoulders told me she was already under his spell.

  He looked her over, his brows creasing. “Have we met before?”

  “Maybe we ran into each other?” She shrugged.

  I elbowed Zoey, not appreciating her reference to the whole hiding in the bushes incident.

  His gaze flicked down to my shirt. “AC/DC is a good look for you.” He smiled, but not enough to elicit the dimple effect.

  “I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone tonight.” Gah, why didn’t I take Zoey’s advice to dress up more?

  I stopped that thought process. Like hell I needed to dress up for the guy who told me our fling, or whatever it was, had been a mistake. No, I wouldn’t care one bit what he thought of my wardrobe choice.

  He held my gaze for a few seconds before saying anything. “Well, I just wanted to come over and make sure you were okay.” His swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “I can see that you are, so I’ll leave you to your girl time.” He wasn’t able to meet my eyes, instead opting to look at his group of friends.

  Was Brogan…jealous? The sting of his rejection gave me pause in thinking this was anything more than him being friendly. Because that’s what Brogan did. He was nice to everyone. Everyone loved him. And everyone was content to not dig any deeper, only taking him at face value. Not me, unfortunately. Seems like I was the only one in the Emerald City who was glutton for punishment enough to want to know more about the one person who guarded his secrets tighter than a Las Vegas magician.

  I wanted to know what each of those tattoos meant. I wanted to know why he stayed at the office long past when he needed to, and why he’d never watched the movies that were part of our pop culture growing up. It hit me like a stiletto to the stomach how badly I needed to know all of this.

  A clean-cut guy with a fauxhawk strutted over to our little group and clapped a hand on Brogan’s back. “You singing Journey with us, bro?”

  Brogan motioned to the guy, who seemed to have a few too many beers in him, and said, “Lainey, Zoey, this is Jace. He went to MIT with me, but the bastard moved to New York.”

  Jace slugged him in the shoulder. “Wall Street isn’t as bad as you imagine, Starr. Not everyone’s a prick like your dad.”

  I’d already gotten the sense that his dad wasn’t the nicest—I mean who sent their kid off to boarding school and deprived them of video games? But I could tell there was more to the story from the way Brogan leveled a glare at his friend.

  Jace shook our hands. “Is this the Lainey that you were moping around about?” He jutted his chin to me, and if it hadn’t been so dark, I could have sworn Brogan’s cheeks turned ten shades of red in the span of a few seconds.

  My heart jackhammered in my chest. Brogan was sulking about me? And he actually told someone about it?

  He pointedly ignored Jace’s question and asked, “What are you ladies drinking?”

  I swallowed hard and tried to read Brogan’s expression, but he kept his perma-smile affixed to his face. But those dimples were no longer kryptonite for me (okay, they totally were, but I was getting used to them).

  “Blue Moon and a Tom Collins,” Zoey said. She never was one to turn down a possible free drink. Except from Pepé.

  He turned to Zoey. “Nice choice in drink.”

  She lifted her glass in a salute. “They’re highly underrated.”

  “I whole-heartedly agree. Need a refill?”

  Just as I said no, Zoey blurted out a yes. She elbowed me, and I remembered her “all bar expenses paid by other people” goal for tonight.

  I rolled my eyes and nodded. “That would be really nice, thanks.”

  The bartender brought us another round of drinks, and the guys stood in front of our bar stools, sipping beers. As Brogan looked out at the dance floor, I took the opportunity to take a greedy gaze at the tattoos running along his forearm. Especially the ellipses that covered most of the inside of his wrist. Above that was something scrawled in script, which I couldn’t read unless I was sitting a few inches closer. Just a few inches and my legs would brush his. Just a few inches and those deft hands could roam freely over my skin. Okay, my mind and body were totally not on the same page.

  This had to stop. He didn’t want me. He’d made that clear. And I wasn’t some love-sick girl pining for Mr. Whatever. We were done.

  He cleared his throat and said, “It’s Latin for ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’”

  I shifted in my seat, realizing my gaze was still awkwardly pinned on his arms.

  Crap. Caught. “They’re interesting.”

  He leaned in closer and murmured, “I like when you look at me.” His stubbled cheek brushed against mine, and his warm breath caressed my skin. A shudder rippled through me.

  Boom. RIP ovaries, it was nice knowing you.

  I choked on my beer. I didn’t know if this was my head playing games with me, my inner romantic filling in words that I wished he’d say, or if he’d actually just said he liked when I checked him out.

  The guy was giving me whiplash. What kind of asshole leaves a girl crying in his apartment and then ignores her for a week? If he thought he could swoop in and expect me to just forgive him without batting an eye, he had another thing coming.

  “We have a couple songs before our group sings karaoke. Want to dance?” Jace asked Zoey, holding a hand out to her.

  She shot a nervous glance toward the front of the building, where Ryder stood talking with another guy, and took Jace’s hand.

  As soon as we were alone, Brogan brushed his hand down my arm—sweetly, slowly—and said, “I’m sorry for how I acted the other night. It was immature and stupid.” He frowned and looked down, embarrassed.

  I shrugged away from his touch, even though it took every bit of restraint not to lean into his fingers. “Doesn’t matter. You were right. It’s probably best, like you said.” I’d be absolutely nuts to be with a guy whose emotional stance on a relationship ping-ponged in a handful of days.

  “And I told you what I said was stupid. I’m really sorry, Lainey. Truly. The thought of putting my trust in someone, opening up, scare
s the shit out of me.”

  Damn him for sounding so earnest. How was I supposed to resist him when he looked at me like that, when his touch sent a million pinpoints of heat through my body?

  Must. Stay. Strong. I wasn’t a damn doormat.

  “I’m not looking for you to share your social security number. All I want is to know more about the person I’m”—I motioned with my hands—“spending time with. Or was spending time with.” So maybe that seemed a little casual compared to what I’d built it up to be in my mind, but my pride was still a little wounded from last week, and I sure as heck wasn’t going to give in that easily with one meager apology. “You say you’re scared, but everyone’s scared. Relationships involve taking risks, but finding the right person can also have its rewards. You’ll never know unless you try. But when you shut down, it makes that impossible.”

  His lips tipped into a frown, and it took everything in me not to run my thumb along the seam of his mouth. “I know. I handled it like an asshole, and I’m sorry for that,” he said.

  “It’s hard to know where I stand with you. If I’m just another employee to you, then maybe it is for the best I don’t come over to your house anymore.”

  His eyes sparkled in the lights, and he shook his head. “You’re more than that to me. So much more.”

  “Am I?” I crossed my arms, but inside my inner fangirl was flailing. This was the first time I actually felt like we were getting through to each other, finally on the same page. “Because at times it doesn’t feel that way.”

  “Yes.” He chanced running a finger over my cheek. This time I let him. “You deserve better.” He frowned.

  I nodded. “I do.” Because hell if I’d cheapen myself for any guy.

  “This past week has been miserable without you. It just hasn’t been the same.” He frowned. “The other night, I opened up Netflix and watched Mean Girls.”

  I choked on a sip of beer. “I am slightly jealous I didn’t get to witness this.”

  “It was horrible, by the way. And you have the worst taste in movies, but you know what I was thinking the whole time?”

  “What?”

  “How I wished you were there, because I like hearing your commentary. I wanted to know what parts you found funny. I wanted to share that with you.” He tucked a stray curl behind my ear and said, “And that scared me, because I haven’t wanted to share anything with anyone in a long time. I’m not used to trusting people, but I want to try with you.”

  My breath hitched at the sincerity of his comment. Who knew what changed his mind from last week. “I’m not big on the trust thing, either, and after last week…you made it seem like you could turn it off just like that.” I snapped my fingers. “I get that we aren’t supposed to be serious, but you were so cold. I just wanted to know what things were like when you were a kid. You didn’t just shut me out, you ended it. That’s not how it works—this is a two-way street.”

  His gaze searched mine and we were standing close enough that I could see the tiny flecks of gold in his eyes. “I’m pretty sure I’ve used the word stupid a couple of time. I–I’m not sure how to make it up to you.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know either.”

  I thought he might walk away. Then he smiled, and it was like a riptide pulling me under. “How about, will you dance with me?”

  I stared at him, wondering why it had taken him a full week to say this. But his sincerity spoke volumes. What could one dance hurt? “What about the no dancing rule? I thought your mother scarred you for life.”

  “Lainey, when it comes to you, I’m breaking all my own rules.” He held out his hand. “Please.”

  I pushed my empty beer across the bar and grabbed his hand. “Fine, Starr. I’ll give you one dance.”

  He smiled. “That’s all I need.” He led me to the dance floor. A fast country song boomed in the room, the beat vibrating through my bones. Brogan grabbed both my hands and took the lead. Within the chorus of the song, I’d been spun, dipped, and sufficiently wooed.

  His warm hands on my hips, the heartfelt look in his eyes—it was more than I could handle. Call me stupid, but if he was really serious about giving this another shot, I was willing to give it one more try.

  I laughed as he pulled me up from the final dip. “Can I write a letter to your mom thanking her for putting you in dance classes?”

  He shook his head and smiled. “You could, but I wouldn’t know the address.”

  He said it so matter-of-factly that it made my heart ache, because I couldn’t imagine a life without my mother.

  At the end of the song I was out of breath, and I didn’t know if it was from being this close to him or the fact that no matter how many miles I ran, dancing always seemed harder on my body.

  His heated gaze pierced through me, and he ran his tongue over his top lip. “Do you want to get out of here?”

  I searched his eyes, still slightly apprehensive. I needed to be totally sure before I’d put myself out there again. “Depends.”

  He cocked his head. “On?”

  “Are you really ready to let me in?”

  “I just said I am.”

  I frowned. “Words are cheap, Starr. Someone with your business sense knows this.”

  He leaned closer to me and said, “I can’t really show you in a bar, when a bed is far more suitable.” His breath ghosted over my skin, and a shudder rippled through me.

  Well, crap. He got me. An offer I couldn’t refuse. Not with the promise of soft sheets and our bodies pressed together.

  “That sounds slightly more convincing,” I mused.

  “I think my mouth could do some additional persuading if given the chance.”

  Hello, neglected downstairs. Did you hear that? Without wanting to look too eager, I managed a nod. “I need to check in with Zoey first.”

  I scanned the floor and spotted her with Jace. She was grinding into him, and her lips pulled into a smile when she saw me.

  “You having a good time?” I nodded toward Jace’s hands firmly planted on her hips.

  “Very good.” She looked between Brogan and me. “Can I say the same for you?”

  A flush filled my cheeks. “Yes.”

  “If you need to…you know…get out of here, I’m perfectly fine,” she said.

  “I don’t know.” I hated leaving her at the bar by herself, even if she was with Brogan’s friends.

  “My driver can take you home,” Brogan offered to Zoey.

  Her eyes lit up. “You have a driver?”

  Brogan smirked. “Yes. Jace will make sure that no one bothers you, and you’ll get home safe. Right Jace?” He leveled a serious look at Jace, who nodded.

  I turned to him. “Thank you.” The fact that he was willing to make sure my friend got home okay made my heart beat sideways in my chest. “Are you okay with that, Zoey?”

  “I’m just going to have a couple more drinks with them, and then I’ll have the driver take me home.”

  “Okay. But call me if you want me to come pick you up. I’ll only be a few blocks away,” I said.

  She looked between me and Brogan again, and then gave me a wink. “I expect a detailed report on my desk tomorrow,” she said.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Lainey Taylor Rule of Life #46

  A girl should be properly kissed in the snow at least once in her life.

  The air was thick with the promise of snowfall as we stepped out into the dimly lit side street. Frost glistened on iced-over car windows, and the only sound was the occasional truck passing by and the soft clomps of high heels on the pavement.

  Brogan walked close beside me, his arm brushing mine a few times. Each time it happened, a fresh set of goose bumps cascaded over my skin, and the deeper I fell into the trap of getting my hopes up. Which was completely silly. But no matter how many times I told myself that he was my boss, that didn’t hit a magic off switch to my wanting him.

  His voice finally cut through the silence as we neared his
building. “Your friend seems like she’ll give Jace a run for his money.”

  I smiled and pulled my coat tighter around me. Zoey always spoke her mind, never was able to lie to save her life—something that got me into a lot of trouble whenever I asked her to cover for me when we were younger. “You could say that.”

  We walked in silence for a few minutes more, then Brogan spoke. “I started getting tattoos when I was seventeen. My friend’s brother owned a tattoo parlor a few blocks down from my boarding school, and I’d sneak out after curfew and get inked. It was a way to get back at my parents.”

  I kept my gaze focused straight ahead, not wanting to break the spell of the moment. He was sharing something with me, and I wasn’t willing to let this slip through my fingers like grains of sand.

  “Which one is your favorite?”

  He pointed to the one on his wrist, the one I’d been drawn to since the first day I met him. “The ellipses. To me it means that my story isn’t over. And no matter what obstacles come my way, I can always change it.”

  “That’s beautiful.” The hot flush of embarrassment crept up in my cheeks. I was sure he didn’t want his tattoos to be called beautiful, but they were.

  “I’ve never told anyone that before.”

  Brogan stopped abruptly and an intensity washed over his face, hardening his features, and I was sure that he was going to shut down, stop the whole sharing is caring thing we had going on.

  “You make me want to do all these things I’ve told myself I can’t have. It’s fucking scary.”

  “Like what?”

  He smoothed his thumb over my cheek. “Like have a relationship that is based off of feelings, not convenience.” He leaned in, and his lips swept over my skin, feather light.

  I let out a shaky sigh and closed my eyes. My mind went in a tailspin, trying to make sense of what was happening. This was a complete one-eighty from last week’s events. I liked this version much better.

  His hands worked up my sides, down my back, cupping my ass and pulling me closer to him. “I want to claim every inch of your skin.”

  My breaths came in tiny pants as he caressed my body.

  “I knew last week was a mistake the second those words came out of my mouth. I want to trust you, but it’s hard. I’ve been burned in the past.”