Rule #5: You Can’t Trust The Bad Boy: The Rules of Love Series Book 5

Home > Other > Rule #5: You Can’t Trust The Bad Boy: The Rules of Love Series Book 5 > Page 8
Rule #5: You Can’t Trust The Bad Boy: The Rules of Love Series Book 5 Page 8

by Meyer, Anne-Marie


  Was he thinking about me? Did I want to know?

  But when I glanced up to look at Jet again, he was no longer focused on me. Instead, his jaw had dropped, and he was staring at something behind me.

  He lunged forward, lifting his sword.

  I blinked a few times as he raced by me. He yelled, “NO!” and reached out to grab Cassidy, who was climbing down the fence with the trophy in hand.

  He pulled her off the fence and spun her around. She giggled this high-pitched laugh as she held the trophy high in the air.

  “I won! I won!” she squealed, pumping her fists in the air.

  Jet set her on the ground and then crouched down so he could look her in the eyes. “Darn you,” he said as he reached up and tousled her hair. She protested, but the smile on her face remained as she wagged her finger at him.

  “Our plan worked,” she said, glancing at me and flashing her wide, missing-teeth smile.

  I nodded as I brushed off my clothes. “Yep. We make a great team.”

  She hugged the trophy like it was the best thing in the world and nodded. Then she turned to face Jet. “Homemade chicken tenders, please,” she said, batting her eyelashes.

  Jet scoffed, but Cassidy didn’t wait to hear his protest. She skipped back to the house, where I assumed she was going to watch her show again.

  When I turned back to study Jet, my heart leapt into my throat. He was standing a foot away with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed.

  “So, that was just a game to you?” he asked, leaning in as if he wanted me to feel the full weight of his words.

  “Yeah?” I asked, not sure what he was talking about.

  He pushed his hand through his hair as he glanced over to where we’d been standing earlier. “And here I thought we were connecting.” He got this shy look on his face, and I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not.

  My mind flooded with a million thoughts, and I couldn’t decide which one to listen to. I mean, there was no denying that I was attracted to Jet, but did that mean he felt the same about me?

  And how did I feel about that?

  Not good.

  I wasn’t sure if I should speak any of the words that were hanging on the tip of my tongue. They felt too raw. Too exposing.

  He chuckled as he shook his head. “I’m just joking. Geez, you don’t have to take everything so seriously,” he said as he clapped his hand onto my shoulder. The force shook my whole body.

  But that wasn’t what I was focusing on. Anger crept up inside of me, and my hands found their way to my hips. I leaned in and narrowed my eyes. “You punk,” I said, reaching out to shove his shoulder.

  He held up his hands as he laughed. I swung again, and he dipped down and skittered to the side. “Hey, you played me. I had every right to return the favor.”

  I chased after him, but he knew his yard a lot better than I did. Just as I reached out to grab onto him, my foot got caught on a raised tree root, and suddenly I was falling to the ground.

  Somehow, Jet turned at that exact moment, and I felt two arms wrap around me and change my trajectory. Instead of hitting hard dirt, I fell on top of Jet.

  His breath left his lungs in a whoosh as he hit the ground. Stunned, I stared down at his closed eyes and the grimace on his face.

  It felt like I was in shock. My whole body felt disassociated from me. I knew my hands were pressed against his chest. I knew his arms were wrapped around me. I knew my legs were tangled with his.

  I knew all of this...but I was having a hard time processing it.

  “I think you killed me,” he said as he pinched his lips together.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered as I shifted to get off of him.

  That just made his grip tighten more. “Wait,” he said.

  I stopped moving and just lay there. On top of Jet Miller. My shock wore off, and I was suddenly very aware of every part of my body touching every part of his.

  Nerves settled in my stomach as I stared down at him. His eyes were still closed, but his face was more relaxed. I wondered what he was thinking. Was he as aware of our touching bodies as I was?

  “Jet?” I asked. For my sanity, I needed to get up, to get some distance from him.

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you okay?”

  He squinted up at me. The sunlight occasionally burst through the leaves of the tree above us. He studied me before releasing his grip.

  “You okay?” he asked. I could feel him watching me as I pushed off of him and stood.

  “Yeah, I think so,” I said, brushing off my clothes.

  He’d pulled himself up to sitting. His arm was draped on his knees and his other hand was behind him, holding his body weight. He looked a lot more relaxed than I felt. Maybe I was the only crazy person in the world that got all out of sorts when pressed against someone like Jet.

  And that was just it. I was a crazy person. Why was I allowing these feelings to grow? Nothing could ever happen between us. Me being here was just a rebellious reaction to my parents. Jet and I could never be. There was no future to our story.

  It ended Sunday night.

  “Are you okay?” I asked again as I cleared my throat of all my ridiculous emotions and peered down at him.

  He shrugged as he pushed off the ground and stood. Then he brushed off his pants. “I’ll be fine,” he said. He was only inches away from me. “I’m pretty tough.”

  My breath caught in my throat, and the only thing I could do was nod.

  He smiled at me and then patted my shoulder. “Come on, it’s time to make some fried chicken.”

  My jaw dropped as I followed after him. “Um, I believe you’re the one who lost, not me.”

  He scoffed as he held open the back door. I stopped just before I went in so that I could stare him down.

  He didn’t seem to notice. “Well, you distracted me, and therefore, you help.”

  I shook my head. “That wasn’t a rule.”

  “What do you know about the rules? Cassidy and I made them up. Therefore, I say you help cook.”

  I walked into the kitchen and could hear a woman squealing from the living room. Yep, Cassidy had gone back to her show.

  “Cassidy?” I called, tipping my body toward the living room so I could be heard over the TV.

  A second later, she appeared in the entryway between the kitchen and dining room.

  “Do I have to help with dinner?” I asked.

  She glanced at me and then behind me to Jet. She got a confused look before she shrugged. “I don’t know. Ask Jet. He made up the rules.” Then she disappeared.

  Apparently, helping me was less interesting than watching her show.

  Jet patted my head, and I reached up to push his hand away.

  “See? Now, be a dear and grab the metal bowl from that cupboard,” he said, nodding toward the cabinet behind me.

  I glared at him as I made my way over to the sink and turned the water on. “I’ll help, but under protest.”

  Jet joined me at the sink, sticking his hands in the water above mine. I growled as I reached over to flick soap bubbles in his direction.

  He dodged out of the way and returned to the water stream. Thankfully, I’d finished washing my hands so I could step away from him.

  My heart turned into a jackhammer every time he was around me. Putting distance between us made the most sense. I wandered over to the stove and grabbed a towel to dry my hands. I watched Jet as he finished washing up and shook the excess water from his fingers.

  When he caught my eye, he smiled. He raised his hand and motioned toward the towel. I sighed as I threw it over to him.

  Maybe I should ask him to drive me home. Maybe this was a complete mistake.

  If how I was feeling kept growing, I was going to be in major trouble by the time the weekend was over. My life was on a path that I couldn’t change. There was no reason to drag Jet into my mess.

  But I’d be lying if I told myself that hanging out here was worse than be
ing at the hotel. And maybe, just maybe, I wanted to see what would happen. Curiosity was really winning out. I wanted to know more about Jet.

  I just had to be stronger. Be better at keeping my distance. I could do this. Feelings didn’t have to get involved.

  I let out my breath and walked over to the cupboard to grab a bowl. I set it on the counter and turned to him.

  “I’m ready.”

  Chapter Nine

  Jet set out flour, milk, eggs, and chicken on the counter. He looked adorable in the apron he’d pulled out of a drawer. It was floral and matched the one he handed me.

  I made a point to raise my eyebrows, which he shrugged off.

  “Don’t want those fancy clothes getting dirty,” he said.

  I just chuckled as I slipped the apron over my head and tied it in the back.

  “Who knew you were so chivalrous,” I said.

  He smiled at me. “Oh, there’s so much more to me that you don’t know.” He chuckled as he set a pot on the stove and began pouring oil into it.

  I stood rooted to the spot. It felt more like a challenge than just something people said. Truth was, the more I was getting to know Jet, the more I realized there was more to him than met the eye.

  For starters, there was his adorable sister and how he acted around her. The fact that he’d taken pity on me—the crazy girl from behind the hotel. And how he’d helped his friend, despite having to give away his money.

  There was a lot more to him, and I wanted to know everything there was to know about him.

  Heat rushed to my cheeks, so I turned toward the ingredients he’d set out on the counter, determined to look busy.

  “What can I do to help?” I asked, reaching out and fiddling with the milk jug.

  “Ever make fried chicken?”

  I shook my head. “I’ve never really cooked at all. We’ve always had a chef or just eaten at the restaurant.” I glanced over to see him studying me.

  There was a soft hint of a smile on his lips. When my gaze met his, he held it for a moment before grabbing a stack of bowls from the cupboard above me.

  “Well, consider this your first cooking lesson,” he said as he set the bowls out in front of me.

  I rubbed my hands together. “Perfect.”

  He grabbed the flour and poured it into one of the bowls. “It goes milk, flour, egg, flour. Repeat. Oil,” he said, pointing to each ingredient and then ending at the pot.

  I nodded as he listed each item, but by the time he got to the end, I’d forgotten half of it. “Um...”

  He chuckled. “I’ll be here, don’t worry. I won’t let you go astray.”

  I chewed my lip as I peeked over at him. For some reason, I wanted those words to mean more than they did. And I didn’t realize how much I wanted them to mean more, until I heard them escape from his lips.

  Of course, in my ridiculously vulnerable state, I was clinging to the one person who didn’t seem to want to dictate how I lived my life. With Jet, I could just be me. I didn’t have to worry about who I was supposed to be.

  It meant a lot that he’d whisked me away right before my life crumbled down around me. I’d be grateful to him forever. Suddenly, the thousand dollars I’d agreed to pay him didn’t seem like enough. He was doing so much for me, I wanted to return the favor.

  “Thanks,” slipped from my lips before I could stop it. I didn’t want to get all sentimental on him, but, probably because I was slowly losing my mind, I wanted him to know that it meant a lot to me. What he was doing.

  Jet stopped moving and turned to study me. I couldn’t help but raise my gaze up to meet his. I wanted him to see how much I appreciated what he’d done for me.

  “For what?”

  I tucked my hair behind my ear and shrugged. “For agreeing to take me along on this crazy journey.”

  He paused as he held my gaze. “Sure. You are paying, though.”

  I nodded. “I know. But you didn’t have to help me out. I appreciate it.”

  His expression softened, and my body felt light as he studied me. I could tell there was an internal battle going on inside of him. I wanted to reach out, to tell him that I hadn’t meant for it to sound so clingy, but he stepped back before I could.

  “Brielle,” he said. His voice had dropped, and it sounded...worried.

  I swallowed, wishing I could take it back. I didn’t mean for it to come out like he was my knight in shining armor or anything. Or like we were going to be anything beyond this weekend. I just wanted him to know I was grateful.

  “It’s okay. Just forget I said anything.” I forced a smile and then turned to the chicken. I stuck my finger through the plastic to puncture the seal. I needed to focus on something else while I forced down the feelings of rejection that had risen in my chest.

  I was being ridiculous. I shouldn’t be sad about this. We were a business transaction. That was it. I was the idiot who decided to read into things.

  Jet appeared beside me, his arm brushing mine. I winced as I tried to pull away, but there was a wall on my other side, making retreat impossible.

  “Listen, I...” He rested both hands on the counter in front of him as he dipped his head down. “I didn’t mean that. I just...we live different lives. I would never fit in where you live.” He glanced over at me, and I saw sadness in his gaze. “And you wouldn’t fit in here.”

  I blinked—probably a bit too fast—and nodded. “Of course. Yeah. I understand.” I motioned between the two of us. “Different worlds. I get it.”

  Ugh. From the tone of my voice and my frantic movements, I was doing a terrible job convincing him that I was fine. I was a mess, and I was slowly revealing that mess to Jet.

  I was just giving him even more reason to drop me back off at the hotel and leave. Which I wouldn’t blame him for. I’d return me too.

  When I glanced back up to him, I saw that he was watching me.

  Embarrassment rushed through me, but I forced myself to smile instead. “What’s next?” I asked as I held up the package of chicken tenders.

  He furrowed his brows for a moment before he sighed and stood. I could tell he still wanted to talk about this, but I didn’t. And I was grateful that he was willing to move on.

  “Flour,” he said, pulling the bowl closer to me.

  We worked in unison until the smell of fried chicken filled the air. My mouth watered as I watched Jet pull the perfectly brown chicken strips from the oil and set them on a paper towel.

  Cassidy must have noticed as well because she wandered into the kitchen and stood next to me.

  “Wow,” she said, leaning toward me.

  “I know, right?”

  She giggled. “Jet’s the best cook. That’s why I have to beat him every time.”

  I smiled down at her. She was so sweet. Exactly what I’d wanted in a little sister.

  The more I thought about it, the more I envied Jet’s life. Sure, his parents were stressed and probably not stellar, but he had an adorable sister and the freedom I craved.

  Jet turned around and must have caught me smiling because he glanced down at Cassidy and then back up at me with his eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure I like the two of you talking.”

  Cassidy pressed her hand to her chest. “Me? Why?”

  He held out his tongs and pointed them at her. “You’re plotting something.”

  Cassidy shook her head and held up her hand like she was swearing in court. That must be where Jet got it from. “Promise.”

  Jet held his gaze on her before moving it to me. His tongs followed suit.

  I laughed as I mimicked Cassidy. “I swear. We aren’t plotting anything.”

  Jet hesitated before he laughed. “Well, even if you were, it wouldn’t matter. No one is smarter than me. I would just thwart your plans.”

  Cassidy gasped as she dove for his knees. “What about this?” she asked as she yanked hard—trying to pull him down.

  Jet laughed as he set the tongs down on the counter and pulled his sist
er off his legs. “Cassidy, come on. Seriously?”

  He pulled her up and spun her around. Her giggles turned into full-out laughs as she tipped her head back. Once Jet finished, he set her down, and she took a few wobbly steps over to me, where she leaned against the counter. Jet returned to the chicken in the pot.

  Cassidy leaned over. “I’m going to get him one of these days,” she whispered.

  I nodded. “I’m sure you will.”

  Jet turned to us, halting our conversation. He pointed to the fridge. “Grab your condiments and a plate. Dinner is served.” The last sentence he said with a French accent as he gave a deep bow.

  Cassidy cheered as she opened the fridge and pulled out some honey mustard sauce. “What do you want, Bri?” she asked, glancing over at me.

  I smiled as I peered into the fridge. “Do you have ranch?”

  She nodded as she pulled a bottle from the door. “Yep.”

  She handed it over and then proceeded to squeeze some mustard on her plate. Then, after grabbing a napkin, she made her way back into the living room, leaving Jet and I alone.

  I tried to busy myself with the ranch bottle. I wasn’t sure what to say to Jet, so I appreciated the distraction that getting my food ready gave me.

  Jet was standing by me as I squeezed the ranch onto my plate. I couldn’t help but notice how close he was. Or the fact that he was staring at me. I wanted him to move. I wanted him to stop watching me.

  “Yes?” I asked when I finally couldn’t take it anymore. I turned to stare at him, hoping he’d realize that I noticed him watching me.

  He quirked an eyebrow, like he hadn’t anticipated my reaction. Then his gaze dipped down to the bottle in my hand. “Just waiting for the ranch.”

  I blushed as I glanced down at the death grip I had on the bottle. What was I thinking? That he was waiting for me?

  Geez, I was an idiot.

  I handed the bottle over, grabbed my plate and headed through the kitchen over to the living room.

  “Hey, Brielle?”

  Jet’s soft voice washed over me, causing me to pause. I turned to see him studying me. There was this caring crease on his forehead that sent my heartbeat galloping. “Yeah?”

 

‹ Prev