Breaking the Rules: The Breaking Series #1

by Leigh, Ember

  He couldn’t know how easily he’d sealed the deal with that comment. Just like he couldn’t know the real nature of her business downtown that night. She hesitated anyway.

  “It’ll save us cab fare,” Eddie said, wiping at his neck with the towel. “Come on, Mara. Help your single brother out. I’m feeling good about life again.”

  She sighed dramatically. “Well, sure, I guess.”

  Eddie grinned, fiddling with the stereo system. “Thanks, hermana. I owe you.”

  Reggaetón music swelled and filled the car. Amara tapped her fingers against the steering wheel as she drove, unable to think about anything other than what Travis might look like later that night. What did he look like outside of gym shorts and a T-shirt? What was in his closet? What was his house even like—an extended version of his gym?

  Excitement burbled in her belly. It might only be a car ride there and back, but she’d take it. Being around Travis was a jolt of electricity: addictive, a little painful, and totally jaw-dropping.

  * * *

  Later that evening, Amara prepared a cup of honey lemon tea in the kitchen while Eddie picked up a phone call in the dining room just beyond the door.

  “Hooooolt.”

  For how little she ever saw Travis during her own high-school years, Eddie more than made up for it in how much she overheard the friends talking on the phone. She perked up as she sensed him begin to pace the dining room, and squirted a drizzle of honey into the mug.

  “What do you mean? It’s free; who cares?”

  Another pause. Amara reached for the lemon she’d cut up and squeezed as much juice as she could into the hot water.

  “She’s going downtown anyway. She doesn’t care, I swear.”

  She tensed. They were clearly talking about the arrangement for her to drive them downtown. Her heart rate picked up. Would Travis back out? Please, God, let this man get into our car tonight.

  “Holt, it’s fine. I swear to you. We’ll be there at nine. It’s cool.”

  Amara sucked at her bottom lip when the lemon juice ran into a tiny cut on her middle finger. She shook it off, drawing a low breath. It always surprised her how much a drop of lemon juice could sting.

  “Why? You have to be home by midnight, so it’s perfect. Bro, I’m not splitting the cab, so don’t even pretend.”

  Amara relaxed. Eddie would convince him of the plan; he had to. Maybe she could sneak a glimpse of his house even. That would be the real prize. With each passing hour, Travis became more of a celebrity in her mind. He was a living god.

  “Tight. See you later.”

  Eddie came into the kitchen. Amara swirled a spoon in the mug and asked, “What was that about?”

  “Holt acting weird about you driving.” He shook his head. “Guy tries to act like he’s gonna drop a hundred dollars on a cab tonight. No way. He needs to save that money for the bar.”

  She snorted. “Does he have something against me driving? I do have a driver’s license.”

  “I know. He knows. Didn’t want to put you out, I guess.”

  “Not like you cared.” She narrowed her eyes playfully at him.

  “You’re my sister. It’s your job.” Eddie pinched her and left the kitchen. Amara watched him head for the living room where their mother napped in the recliner. It might not be her job to shuttle him around places, but it sure was her job to make sure this household remained as happy as it could be given the recent circumstances.

  Eddie had moved back into the apartment once his last girlfriend dumped him six months ago. The timing was right too; he’d arrived just before their mother started showing signs. Of course they didn’t know it at the time, but she’d begun metastasizing breast cancer, somewhere deep inside her tissues. A silent, stalking predator, feeding on their mother.

  The apartment seemed small now; maybe it was the passage of time. Their lives had all grown bigger since the high-school days. Or maybe Mama’s illness was the newest resident, taking up whatever space the three of them hadn’t occupied.

  Amara went to the living room. Mama stirred in the recliner. Eddie changed the channel from an infomercial to the weather.

  “Ma, you ready for your tea?” She set it on the folding table next to the recliner. “It’s hot, still. Cuidado.”

  Mama yawned and stretched out, her little hands making tight fists as she spread her arms into the air. “Ayyyyyyyy, what a good nap.”

  “Feeling better than earlier?” Amara settled onto the couch across from Mama, next to Eddie.

  “Like a million bucks.” Her mother’s accent clashed comically with the American idiom. “Thanks for the tea, mi amor.”

  Eddie swiped through his phone, ankle hooked over his knee. Amara nudged him, curious for a glimpse of his screen. “What’re ya doing? Is that Tinder?” It was the only way to meet anyone decent in the city.

  “Shush.” He finished something and then pocketed the phone.

  “I just don’t understand the Tinder.” Mama blew on the tea, cradling the mug in both hands. “All the swiping, the liking, the this-ing, the that-ing. At the end of the day nobody even knows how to talk on the telephone anymore, no matter how much they use one.”

  Amara snorted. “Good point, Ma.”

  “Where do you hear about Tinder, anyway?” Eddie frowned.

  “I keep up, Eddie. I know about hip stuff.”

  “You have to keep up these days,” Amara remarked, snickering. “Or else you won’t understand a damn thing going on in the world.”

  Her mom sent a firm look—must have been the use of the word damn.

  “Why can’t you kids go find dates the old-fashioned way?” Mama took a tentative sip.

  “What’s the old-fashioned way? Waiting until your parents make an arranged marriage?” Amara smirked.

  “No. You go out to community events. You meet the neighbors. You marry the sons of friends and so on.”

  “That’s just what it was like where you grew up, Ma.” Eddie cocked a brow. “We’re in LA now. It’s a different beast.”

  “Besides, Eddie doesn’t have any friends I’m allowed to date.” Amara crossed her arms over her chest, feigning an annoyed look at Eddie. “If only I were allowed to have a potential dating pool…”

  Eddie crossed his arms through the air. “Not on my watch. My friends are pigs.”

  Amara laughed. “How can you say that? They’re your friends.”

  “All men are pigs when it comes to my little sister.” He shook his head, pocketing his phone. “Besides, I’ve known some of those guys since we were thirteen. Which means I know too much. You’re better off finding some dude without a shared history. That way I won’t know what a sick guy he really is.”

  “Even Travis is that sick?” She tried to play it cool, praying he wouldn’t catch the curiosity in her voice.

  “He’s the worst of them all.”

  She rolled her eyes. Her mother sipped again at her tea. “Eddie, you’re too hard on her. Your friends are lovely men.”

  He shook his head again, scoffing. “They’re my best friends, but they’re not good enough for her.”

  His overprotectiveness was just this side of viselike. Sometimes it made her feel warm and fuzzy, as if he really knew what he was doing. But most of the time—like today—it made her feel as if he was just stuck on a train that had one destination: Her Eternal Celibacy. And the fact that it hadn’t let up by age twenty-six seemed like a new type of oppression. One that she had to buck. Immediately.

  “Nobody is good enough for me.” She stared at him as he fiddled with his sneakers. “It’s not like I’m trying to date your friends, but seriously, you wouldn’t even want one of your best friends to be with me? I can’t believe you’d trust a stranger over a friend. Strangers are the ones who turn out to be serial killers. At least you know the extent of your friend’s afflictions.”

  “That’s just the thing. They’re fucked up.”

  Their mother glared at Eddie this time.

&nb
sp; “Sorry, Ma.” Eddie turned to look at Amara. “But what if they hurt you? I’d have to kill a friend, which I’d do.”

  Amara rolled her eyes.

  “But whatever. It doesn’t matter. You’re not dating them; you’re not dating anyone. Why are we even talking about it?”

  “Querida Amara.” Her mother sighed. “Someday you will find the man of your dreams. And may God let Eddie approve of him!”

  Amara let her head drop back onto the couch, suddenly exhausted. For all the ways that LA was a big city, full of dreams and opportunities, chances and characters… For her, it was like being shoved into a mold. The shape of what her mother wanted from her…and especially what her brother wanted from her.

  After living on her own for so long, how could she pander to all the conflicting desires?

  The only way forward was to do whatever the fuck she wanted. She’d just have to keep it quiet as long as she could. And the first step involved getting way closer to Travis.

  Chapter 3

  Travis jumped when the buzzer sounded. He’d been pacing the foyer like a predator, waiting for a sign that Eddie and Amara had made it past the doorman. Hurrying to the door, he pushed the Talk button.

  “H’lo?”

  “Hoooolt. We’re here. Ready when you are.”

  Travis paused, thumb hovering over the button to respond. Should they come up? Having Amara around changed things. He didn’t know what the fuck to do anymore. If it were only Eddie, he’d invite him up. “Wanna pregame?”

  “Nah, she’s gotta get downtown.”

  Travis shoved his wallet into the back pocket of his relaxed jeans and flipped off the lights before letting himself out quietly.

  What was he so worked up about? It was like he was about to give a presentation at school and he’d forgotten all his notecards containing the prepared speech. Except it wasn’t school, and it wasn’t a speech; just his best friend and his best friend’s sister, which made him feel considerably lamer than he had in perhaps a decade.

  Amara pushed him off-kilter. He crossed his arms, studying the crease of the elevator doors as it descended from the twentieth floor. He’d moved into this place the year before, and it was the definition of swank; he couldn’t even feel the elevator transition from stationary to moving, whereas in the last place he’d lived, it felt as if a bulldozer head-butted the back of it when it moved into motion.

  Success afforded him this—as well as a shit ton of additional work, lots of sleepless nights, and a waning appetite for dating.

  Which was precisely why he’d postponed dating indefinitely. He didn’t have time to be disappointed. Travis straightened his back as he sauntered out of the elevator. Approaching the front door, he flipped his black hoodie over his head, allowing it to fall over his eyebrows and obscure his forehead. The doorman nodded at Travis as he walked through the glass doors and toward the black SUV waiting for him in the cul-de-sac.

  As he neared, the passenger’s side window slid down. Eddie flashed him a sideways peace sign. Travis cracked a grin and hopped into the backseat.

  He pulled the door shut behind him. Amara’s fresh, sultry perfume reached him immediately, clouding his mind. “What’s up?”

  Eddie peered behind the seat. “Holt.” He offered his fist; Travis knocked his knuckles against his friend’s.

  “Good evening.” Amara’s sweetly husky voice thrilled through him. His stomach knotted. Bad sign, bad sign. “Eddie tells me you moved here last year. Looks pretty nice.”

  “It’s an upgrade.” Travis looked out the window, ignoring the urge to stare at Amara. He’d gotten a quick glimpse of her as he’d entered—not enough to even say if she wore earrings or not, but combined with the scent, he was damn near losing it. Images of her ass danced through his head as he watched the streaks of light passing by them.

  “I wanted to see it, but Eddie said we didn’t have time.”

  “You have to be downtown to meet your girlfriends, I thought,” Eddie said.

  “You’re right.” She sighed. “Is there really a rooftop hot tub there?”

  He steeled himself as he tuned back in to the conversation. He glanced at Amara in the rearview mirror, then out the front window. “There is.”

  “Can I check it out sometime?”

  Eddie shrugged, staring out the window. “It’s up to Holt.”

  Travis’s blood froze. He forced a small laugh. “Come anytime.” Polite enough but not solid. If Amara showed up at his house in a bikini, he’d lose it. Even in front of Eddie.

  “Next week maybe?” She flicked her gaze to meet his in the rearview mirror. Desire shuddered through him. When he didn’t respond right away, she added, “Come on, I won’t bother your guy time. I swear.”

  Oh, he’d love that. As long as Eddie could get distracted for a little while with something else. Maybe if he brought one of the girls from tonight with him… “Sure. Whatever works for you guys.”

  Eddie turned up the volume, bringing to life some rap music that had been playing low. Travis settled back into his seat, head turned toward the window but eyes steady on the rearview mirror, searching out a glimpse of Amara’s eyes.

  He spent the rest of the car ride struggling to not think about her. By the time she pulled up to their favorite bar, he felt exhausted from the mental jumping jacks.

  “Thanks, hermana.” Eddie kissed her cheek before sliding out the front seat. Travis nodded toward her and hopped out. They both watched as she maneuvered the SUV back into traffic.

  Eddie slapped Travis on the back and steered them toward the entrance. “I know it’s short but sweet tonight…but damn it, I needed this.”

  Travis smiled, his mind still in the car with Amara as she drove off. Inside the bar, their dates were already smiling and waving at them from across the room. Travis lowered his hood, plastering on a fake smile, a camera-ready face, whatever would help him get through the night with these girls he didn’t want to entertain.

  * * *

  Two hours later, Travis buzzed hard. The girls from the gym had come in a pack, which meant Eddie got to corner the one he’d had his eye on, and the remaining three hung around Travis like a swarm of bees after nectar. Occasionally he’d get a moment to himself, but sooner or later one would swing back toward him, purring like a lynx, ready to pounce with more questions and wide eyes.

  Travis took another pull of his beer, staring at the chalk-scrawled menu behind the bar. He’d probably had enough beer for tonight—especially if he hoped to be bright-eyed the next morning. Still, there was time for another beer if Amara showed up when she said she would. It might make the night go quicker. The girls were pretty, but there were only so many ways to feign interest in their careers or workout plans before he became totally depleted.

  He downed his beer and tapped the glass bottom against the wooden bar. Another beer appeared along with a nod from the bartender.

  The girls were hovering again. In the far corner, Eddie sat buried in conversation with the blonde from that afternoon. They looked like they were really hitting it off. Eddie wasn’t good with small talk with strangers, so this far in, it had to be genuine.

  The wooden bar curved in a U shape around to the other side of the building. The wall of liquors and kegs obscured the view from one side to the other, save a few slats where he could see the front door swing open occasionally with a new arrival. None of their bar buddies were here tonight, so he couldn’t go bug somebody else. It was these girls or the beer.

  “Travis.” The brunette purred into his ear again. He glanced over at her. She sipped a new, bright mixed drink, her breath sweet with liquor. “I wanted you to tell me again about how much you can bench-press.”

  Her other friends were at a different table; maybe she was using the distance to launch a full seduction attack.

  He contemplated his beer for a moment. Hitting on this girl was out of the question. He didn’t have the energy left to do it, not even with the final beer. He swept his gaze acros
s the bar, mulling over a response, when the front door swinging open caught his eye again.

  A dark-haired beauty swept in, those umber eyes like a magnet, even from across the bar. She looked around once, and then Travis’s belly sank.

  Amara. Again.

  He sipped at his beer and stood up. “I gotta go to the bathroom.” He offered a tight smile to the brunette and wandered around to the other side of the bar. Amara sat down on a stool as he approached.

  “You’re early.”

  She turned and looked up at him, eyebrow cocked. “And you’re fast. I thought if I got here early enough, I could steal a quick drink without you noticing.”

  He sighed, easing onto the stool next to her. The scent of her perfume reached him again, making his thighs tense. Fuck, he’d do so many things to her if she’d let him. As long as Eddie never found out. The thought sobered him.

  “How was your night?”

  She shrugged. “All right.”

  “Did you have a fun time with”—he searched his brain for some recollection of what Eddie had told him earlier—“your library group or whatever?”

  She snorted. “Library group. Did Eddie tell you that?”

  “Maybe. But I could have made it up too.”

  “I went on a date.” She pushed a ten-dollar bill across the bar top when the bartender returned with her drink. “Someone I met on Tinder.”

  His eyebrows shot up, involuntarily looking toward the other side of the bar as though to make sure Eddie hadn’t overheard. Impossible. He was knee-deep in that girl still. “Tinder, huh? This will be good.”

  She laughed, sipping at her beer, eyes sparkling as she looked at him. “It wasn’t that good. It was just regular.”

  “The sex, or…?”

  She pursed her lips. “Come on. You think Tinder guys are so good, I’ll give it up that fast? Hell no.”

  Travis scooted his stool closer to hers—partly because of the clamor of the bar and partly because he wanted to be as close to her as possible without mounting her. “I don’t know much about that stuff. I belong to a different social network now.”