Bad Rules (A Wild Minds Novel)

by Charlotte West

  “I’d rather be a man-whore than a bibliophile.” Had he kept the word of the day app I’d installed on his phone? He stepped closer to me. Heat flared in his eyes again. “You wouldn’t want to ruin my bad reputation would you?”

  Before I could reply, I was spun around and my back pressed against the counter. Ash’s hand held firm to the back of my neck. His mouth slammed down on mine. All objections fled my body. Desire erupted. His tongue slid into my mouth. And I gave myself over to it. The want. The need. I’d missed him. So much. Our kiss was rabid, raw, intense. Everything we’d once had was still there only better, bigger.

  My leg hiked around his waist. I was bare beneath the robe, and the hard ridge of jeans and the bulge underneath rubbed against my core, adding a little bite to my pleasure. His hand cradled my head and kept me steady. God knows I was shaking in the best way possible. A strong arm held me firmly. The robe slipped from my shoulders and gapped opened. Guess I’d done terrible work on my knot job. My hands slipped under his T-shirt, feeling the solid planes of his abs and pecs. He seemed a bit leaner than before, but slightly more muscled. I didn’t mind at all. In fact, I couldn’t wait to see.

  He pulled back, reached behind him, and yanked his shirt off. Chains hung around his neck—his father’s dog tags, a guitar pick from his first concert, a pinkie ring a girl had given him. (He didn’t remember her name, just the moment—the first time he’d heard The Who on the radio.)

  My fingers traveled up his chest. God, his body felt so right under my hands. It was like coming home. All these years traveling, and Asher Price’s arms were the best place I’d ever been. My mouth found his again. He clutched me tighter, so we were skin to skin, my nipples pebbling from the cold chains and from being so very turned on. He pushed against me, grinding. I fumbled for his zipper. His hands slid under my ass and we were leaving the bathroom. Somehow he managed to keep a hold on me and open the door.

  “Bed,” he grunted. “I’m not fucking you in bathrooms anymore.”

  Sounded good to me. I threaded my fingers through the short strands on his head. His lips brushed my ear as he lay me on the bed. He came down on top of me. I trembled, opening my legs wider, giving him more room.

  “I’ve been going out of my mind over you,” he said.

  Ditto. Loving or hating, we drove one another to our highest heights.

  “You’re the best thing I’ve ever fucking seen. My pretty Lily. Beautiful inside and out.” His mouth fixed on the side of my neck and sucked. I groaned. Blood rushed to my sex, making me ache for him.

  A shuffling noise sounded outside the door. “Wait.” I struggled against Ash’s hold.

  “Fuck no,” he said. His mouth laved a path over my collarbone, my neck, finishing by nibbling along my jaw.

  “Did you hear that?” I asked. Was someone eavesdropping on us? Listening in was totally okay when I did it, but not when someone else did it to me.

  Ash drew back, eyes cloudy. “What? No.”

  A soft knock. Shit. What a crap time for someone to come calling. Or maybe it was the best. Regret hadn’t settled in yet, but it was lurking. Were Asher and I about to make a mistake?

  “Ash?” It was Lix’s voice, unsure and hesitant.

  “Go the fuck away,” Ash said. He lifted a fluffy pillow from the bed and launched it at the door. That man and throwing things.

  “I think we should talk about your texts.”

  Ash squeezed his eyes shut in a god-give-me-patience way. “I didn’t send them. Lily did.”

  Lix’s reply was slow. “Riiight.”

  “I’m serious.” Poor Ash, didn’t anyone ever tell him that the more you insisted on something, the less plausible it sounded?

  “I totally believe you.” He totally did not. “Listen man, I get that you might have certain feelings. And I’m cool with it, but I don’t see you that way, all right?”

  “All right.” Ash had no choice but to agree. He must have realized the shortest route to Lix going away was to cooperate.

  “Just to be clear, I’m strictly into vagina.”

  “Got it.”

  “Good talk.”

  “Sorry,” I mouthed to Ash, laughing silently.

  Beyond the door stayed quiet. We waited a beat to make sure Lix had left. Then when the coast seemed clear, our gazes settled on each other. The heat of the moment had dissipated. Cold reality set in. I hated him. Right. Right? Nevertheless, Ash was still between my legs. My breasts were on full display. Awkward. I scooted up the bed and closed the robe.

  Ash scowled.

  I looked anywhere but at him. The awkwardness ratcheted up a notch. I picked at the duvet. “That was a mistake.”

  His lips pinned shut; obviously he was not happy with my revelation. “No.” His voice was so low I almost didn’t hear him. My eyes darted to his profile.

  He stood. His jaw tightened. Fuck he was good looking, beautiful really. Sculptors could have carved him. He’d been mine once.

  “That wasn’t a mistake. Nothing we’ve ever done together was a mistake.” He knelt on the bed so he was close to me. He cupped my cheek.

  I had nothing.

  “Now, I’m going to kiss you again, and not because I’m pissed you sent some ridiculous texts from my phone. I’m going to kiss you because I want to. Because I want you. And you’re going to kiss me back.” He grazed my lips, softly but surely. “I’m going out of my mind over you,” he murmured against my mouth. A sigh swept through my body, my soul. I closed my eyes. Kissed Ash back.

  And just like that, my sworn enemy turned into my friend with benefits.

  Then

  I took another sip of my Frigola, a sweet liquor prepared with thyme and a touch of orange—delicious—and moved my hips to the beat. My blood-alcohol level hovered somewhere between happy buzz and three sheets to the wind.

  “Do you have eleven protons? Because you’re sodium fine.” I realized a second later the guy was talking to me. I half turned.

  Behind me, a nerdy but cute dude stood. My eyes traveled the length of his body. Flip-flops, pressed khaki shorts, navy tee. He pushed glasses up his nose, the lenses foggy from the humidity. “Sorry,” the guy said with a drunken half smile. “I don’t usually approach women. Microscopes and the periodic table are more my speed.” He held out his hand. “Porter. Chemist. Battle Star Galactica enthusiast. All-around nerd. And embarrassingly enough, I once asked a girl back to my place to see my Star Trek figurine collection.”

  I shook his hand. “Lily Phillips-Thomas. Art history buff. Vagrant. Feminist. And not to brag, but no less than six men have called me terrifying.” We smiled at each other. “That’s the worst pick-up line I’ve ever heard.” And I’d heard a lot.

  Porter had one of those goofy overbites that most women would find charming. Unfortunately, my thoughts were stuck on an ornery rocker who might’ve just written me off. “You are formidable,” he said with much wonder. “Regarding lines, I’ve got more. You’re like an exothermic reaction. You spread your hotness everywhere.” A hazy grin slipped across his face. “Or how about, are you made of copper and tellurium? Because you’re cute.” Pause. “We have great chemistry, let’s do some biology.”

  “Do any of those ever work?”

  He hung his head in a kind of sad puppy dog way. “Sadly, no. But statistically speaking, I’m due for success any day now.”

  “I like your tenacity, Porter.”

  “Enough to go back to my hotel with me?” Ah, now he was a hopeful puppy, tail wagging. I wanted to pat him on the head. Down boy.

  “No.”

  “How about a dance, then?”

  “All right. But it’s just a dance.”

  He held his palms up. “Got it. We’ll be like Catelyn Stark and Littlefinger.”

  I quirked a brow.

  “Game of Thrones,” he said. I didn’t pick up what he was putting down. He appeared much affronted. “It’s a book written by George R.R. Martin.” He plucked his phone from his pocket, tapp
ed something, and flashed the screen at me. There was a picture of a grey-haired bearded wonder. “That’s the author. He’s kind of our leader. In the books, Littlefinger grew up with Catelyn. He loved her and even fought a duel over her when she became betrothed.”

  “Did Catelyn love him back?”

  “More as a friend or a brother. Sadly, Littlefinger’s love was unrequited.”

  “So he loved this lady against her will? Sounds like a creep.”

  “It’s not like that at all. It’s romantic.”

  I pulled up a shoulder. I say stalker, you say true love. “Did she want to marry the guy she was betrothed to?”

  “Yes, but that’s not the point.”

  “I think we need to consider the fact that Littlefinger’s obsession was unhealthy and encroached on Catelyn’s personal freedom.”

  “My god, are you sure you don’t want to go home with me? I’m not just talking about one night anymore, either. I’m talking marriage. If my chemist one-liners didn’t work, I’d like to sweeten the pot by telling you that I have a very conservative mutual-market fund, and I’ve been contributing to my 401K since I was twenty-one. Does that do anything for you?”

  I patted Porter’s arm. “Unfortunately, my heart belongs to another.” The words slipped out. I snapped my jaw shut, thinking I might be able to contain them, swallow them back down. But they were there in the air. My heart belonged to Asher Price. How much did I wish I could scroll to the bottom of my feelings and hit the unsubscribe button?

  Porter didn’t notice the emotional warfare waging within me. “Duly noted. How about that platonic dance now?”

  I smiled and with it came acceptance. It didn’t matter what his parents thought of me. I’d been too hard on myself. I’d been too hard on Ash. He wasn’t like my mom and dad. He wouldn’t leave me. I loved Asher. I wanted to be exclusive and have his moody babies. Well, maybe not the babies part, but I did love that grumpy son of a bitch. I couldn’t wait to tell him.

  “Ouch.” I jumped back and studied my toes under the strobe light. Didn’t look like any permanent damage had been done. I’d been cutting a rug with Porter for an hour. His dance repertoire included nineties hits such as The Running Man, The Sprinkler, and The Electric Slide. We’d even Cabbage Patched. I was so happy, I kind of felt suspicious about it. I guess that’s what love did to you—made it so you’re like some crazy Care Bear fucking clouds or something.

  I’d stopped drinking. Porter took up my slack. The chemist smelled like a keg of beer that had been pounding tequila. My nerdy companion slipped a clammy hand around my waist. “Lily.” He licked his lips.

  “Yeah, Porter?”

  “I’m totally Littlefinger’ed over you.”

  One by one, I picked his digits off my waist. “Just friends, remember?”

  He was undeterred. Porter went in for the kiss. I sidestepped away from him. Sneaky nerd. Time to go. Time to find Asher and confess my undying love for him and demand he make good on his promise for exclusivity.

  “Well, it’s been neat, Porter.” I downed the rest of my water.

  “C’mon, Lily. You’ve been a tease all night.”

  This I took exception to. I’d had such high hopes for Porter. Turns out even the most educated can be hateful little prigs. Asher never expected anything in return.

  I’d done nothing to lead Porter on. Just because I’d spent time with him didn’t mean I owed him anything. I didn’t bother trying to explain this. Men tended to grow grumpy when you pointed out how wrong they were.

  I whistled low, glancing at my bare wrist. “Look at the time. I’ve got to be going.”

  “Let’s go back to my hotel.” Not again. Porter swayed and stumbled, knocking me down. Onto the sticky bar floor I went.

  “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Porter leaned in like he was going to give me a hand up. Instead he ended up toppling over. And who broke his fall? Me.

  “Shit.” I wheezed and struggled underneath the chemist’s bulk. For a slight-looking guy, he sure seemed to weigh a lot. I finally understood the expression “dead weight.”’ “Porter.”

  He mumbled some drunken gibberish.

  “Get off of me.” I was starting to panic. Trapped. I felt so trapped and vulnerable. Suddenly, Porter’s weight flew off me. He landed sprawled on his ass a foot or so away from me. I gazed up. Whoa. Ash stood there. Lights from the club lit his body. His hands were balled into fists, his square jaw unyielding. He looked like an angry, avenging angel. I half expected dark wings to unfurl from his back. Ah, too much Baroque art.

  Calmly, I regained my feet, brushing my behind as I did. “Hi.”

  His forehead furrowed, his mouth was a tight white line. I took back my original observation. He wasn’t just angry, he was furious.

  “Done with Lix and Derren?” I went for a casual tone. So my permanent man friend had just found me with another man on top of me. No biggie. Ash’s mouth twitched. He shifted on his feet. Lix and Derren were actually behind him.

  “Hey, Crazy,” Lix said. He smiled maniacally, the kind of grin you see in crowds where a fight is about to occur. Bloodlust, thy name is Felix. Derren jerked his chin.

  “Have you guys tried Frigola yet? Not many bars have it, but this one does. Let me get you one.” I leaned over the bar and motioned to the bartender. Two hands appeared on either side of me. I turned. Ash had caged me in.

  “Did your phone break?” His voice was low, with a slight rasp, as if he was trying hard to modulate it, control it.

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Did your fingers break then? Something happen to make it so you can’t call your man?” I recognized a rhetorical question when I heard it. I stayed mute.

  Porter regained his feet but not his good sense. The chemist had some tenacity. I’d give him that, and not much more. He wedged himself between Lix and Derren. His glasses were askew. “Lily, who’s this?”

  Ash kept his pale eyes locked on me. “This what you’ve been doing, hooking up with some schmuck who watches too many episodes of Battlestar Galactica?” He’d hit the nail on the head. The Battlestar Galactica part, not the hooking-up part.

  “Hey,” Porter piped up. “There can never be too many episodes of Battlestar Galactica. That’s sacrilege, man.”

  I frowned, keeping my eyes leveled on Ash. “You’re not helping, Porter.”

  “Lily, tell your little friend to make himself scarce before I knock his teeth in.”

  Right-o. “Porter it’s been…” Not fun… “real. But as you can see I’ve kind of got my hands full here.”

  Porter finally registered Asher’s size and stature. The chemist was outgunned, outmanned. “You know, Lily. I don’t think it’s going to work out between us. I love Game of Thrones and you don’t even know what a dire wolf is.”

  “Sorry to hear that, Porter,” I said, not sorry at all.

  Lix eyed me as if I was some sideshow freak. “You haven’t seen Game of Thrones?”

  I didn’t see what the big deal was. “No.”

  Derren hung his head. “Fuck, Lily. You’re so helpless.”

  Sometime during the conversation, Porter disappeared. I tipped up on my toes and scanned the crowd. Poof, the chemist was gone. Huh, I didn’t see that ninja move coming. I guess when properly motivated, Porter had no problem making smooth moves.

  Ash stepped closer. I guess he was done being ignored. I smoothed a hand up his heavily muscled bicep. Goodness, he was tense. “I was just about to call you.”

  He snorted. “Yeah, it looked like it.” I didn’t care for his tone. Nor did I care for the way he was trying to use his size to intimidate me. Too bad, I wasn’t afraid. Ash could take his big bad wolf act and shove it up his ass.

  “Are you insinuating that I’m not telling the truth?”

  He ground his teeth. “I’m not insinuating, I’m downright saying it. Got here a few minutes ago, watched you on the dance floor, looked like you were having a mighty fine time.”

 
I dipped my chin. “I was having fun.” It wasn’t illegal; it wasn’t a mortal sin. But the way Ash was acting you’d think I’d just cast his firstborn into the river.

  He laughed and there was no humor in it. “Fuck, I can’t believe you’re admitting it. Let’s go.” He might as well have just snapped his fingers in my face and put a leash on me. I might’ve loved Asher Price, but I sure as hell didn’t like him right then.

  Lix’s smile was back in place. I could almost hear him chanting: fight, fight, fight! It’s not possible for steam to literally pour from someone’s ears, but in that moment, I’d swear it was. Know that old saying, “don’t poke the bear”? I was about to find out why it was coined. “Actually, I’m not done.” I’d forgotten that moments ago I was ready to call it a night. I pushed against his chest. Muscles bunched under my palms. Damn he was fine. He didn’t budge. This made me angrier, made my heels dig in a bit more. “I’m just getting started. I get that you’re pissed and that you may have misread the situation. But the truth is I was innocently dancing with someone. And quite frankly, I don’t think I should have to defend myself to you, seeing as I’m a grown-ass woman who can do whatever the fuck she wants.”

  Lix sucked in a breath.

  Derren shook his head in a sad, sad way.

  Ash just stared.

  “So you can just turn around and take the rest of your boy band with you.” Calling Wild Minds a boy band may have been taking it a touch too far. At this, Lix lost his ever-present manic smile.

  My temperamental permanent man friend rolled his head back and let out a breath, as if coming to some unavoidable conclusion. The next second, I was swept off my feet and deposited over Ash’s shoulder like a sack of fucking potatoes. I screeched and fisted his shirt. “Asher!” He didn’t reply. The giant began to move, the crowd parting around him.

  “Nothing to see here, folks,” Lix explained. “My friend here is just helping her out. She’s got a super-rare disease where her legs spontaneously stop working.” I violently kicked. Ash clamped an arm around my knees, disabling me. “My god, it’s a miracle. She’s cured!” He stepped closer to my thrashing head. “Shouldn’t have called us a boy band, Crazy. I was rooting for you up until then.” I gave him a two-fingered salute. Fucking men, they always stuck together.