Unspoken Rules

by Eliah Greenwood

  But over what?

  He slowly brings the zipper to my lower back, his fingers accidentally brushing my skin on the way down. Or is it accidental?

  When he’s done, he doesn’t pull away like I would expect him to. He stands there with his hand on my shoulder and his breath crashing against my neck. I can’t move a muscle.

  The air hitches in my throat when he leans in and stops next to my ear. My pulse quickens, the anticipation of a move that might never come driving me mad. It’s been like this since the night I slept in my underwear. He somehow caught on to what I was doing and started giving me a taste of my own medicine. Either that or he developed an unexpected passion for walking around shirtless.

  I’ve been sleeping in my underwear every night—say it with me: every freaking night—and nothing.

  Nada.

  Zero.

  Not even a little cuddle.

  The guy’s cold as stone.

  We’ve been going back and forth like this for the past week, teasing each other and waiting for one of us to finally make the first move. He pulls, I push. We’re like magnets refusing to touch.

  I don’t want to push anymore.

  Right now, I want to surrender…

  “I’ll wait for you downstairs,” he says and brings me out of a hypnotic daze. By the time I comprehend what just happened, he’s walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

  “It’ll be fine. What are you so afraid of?” I ask as Haze and I step inside the elevator leading up to Vic and Bea’s place. He’ll never admit it, but anxiety has been eating at him since we left the house. I don’t know why reconnecting with his childhood best friend is so bad.

  “I haven’t seen the guy in two years. It’s just… what if it’s weird?”

  “It won’t be. I’m sure it’ll be like you were never apart.”

  “I still think we should’ve bailed,” he says under his breath.

  “Can you be positive for like two seconds?”

  “Sure.” He counts to two. “Time’s up. Can we leave now?”

  I laugh and elbow him.

  “Hey, you haven’t given me a fact about you yet today.” I try to get him to think of something else while we go up to the seventh floor.

  “Seriously? You want to do this now?”

  “Oh yeah.” I snicker. “And none of that ‘my favorite color is green’ crap. I want something meaningful.”

  He draws a breath and starts thinking—probably of a way to get himself out of this one like he did the others—and rubs at the back of his neck.

  He’s been making sure not to give me the good stuff since he started telling me one secret a day. In the past seven days, I’ve learned that his first dog’s name is Buster, that he used to have a really hard time going to the dentist as a kid because he’d always bite, that he’s left-handed, that he hates pickles, that he’s allergic to bees, and a bunch of other facts, but nothing that might help me understand what happened for him to be so untrusting. As much as I appreciate the little things, they still feel like a gate keeping me from accessing his heart.

  The elevator doors open, granting us access to a long hallway.

  “Which apartment is it again?” I ask.

  “It’s 306.” Haze walks ahead. I assume he remembers the way from the last time he was here.

  We stop in front of the right door and knock. A dog starts barking.

  “Just a minute,” a female, most likely Bea, says.

  I turn to him. “Don’t think you’re getting away with it. I want my fact.”

  Approaching footsteps can be heard in the apartment. Locks rattle on the other side. Just when I think we won’t have time, he hits me with the one sentence I did not expect.

  “I don’t believe in male and female friendship.”

  Did he just…

  The door opens in a creak, and it takes all I have not to let my jaw hang. A smiling Bea and a barking pug stand in the doorway.

  “Hey, guys. So glad you could make it. Please, come in.”

  We step inside and exchange pleasantries. Vic turns the corner and joins his girlfriend in greeting us. I try to listen to what they’re saying, but all I can think about is how Haze just acknowledged that we’re full of shit.

  He knows we’re not friends.

  Bea picks up her pug and drags me into the kitchen while Vic takes Haze to what he likes to call his sports room. The small talk begins. I pet Rory, the excited dog, and nod along to what Beatrice is saying, but deep down, I know…

  This is going to be a long day.

  Haze

  “She seems really nice.” Vic’s voice echoes in the almost empty room. We’ve been talking and watching a football game for a good hour and a half now. I’d be worried about leaving Winter alone with someone she doesn’t know if it wasn’t for how often we hear her and Bea laughing in the kitchen. Vic and I keep discussing useless topics I’m sure he isn’t really interested in. I know what he truly wants to ask me, but he can’t. He promised.

  He hasn’t changed one bit. He’s still the same good old Vic who’s obsessed with anything that rhymes with sports. I’ll never say it out loud, but I missed that. I missed just hanging out with him. I’ve been missing having a friend I could trust ever since the day I left town.

  The West side isn’t loyal, and I know it. They’re loyal to whoever’s the strongest. I’ve been dodging their calls. They’re wondering where the hell I ran off to, and I get it. I don’t know how much longer I can keep telling them that I’m off to take care of business out of town. They’re not stupid. They probably know that I’m with the “East side chick.”

  “Haze?” Vic speaks again.

  I’m brought back to reality. “Huh?”

  “I said she seems nice.”

  “Who?”

  “Your girl. Sorry, your friend.” He snorts at the word I used to introduce her to him.

  A small smile hangs on to the corner of my lips.

  “She is,” I say.

  “How long you two been dating?”

  “We’re not. She… it’s complicated.”

  “Oh. So it’s just physical, then?”

  “Yes,” I lie.

  “You know, Haze, you were a lousy liar when we were kids, and you’re even worse now.”

  I’m not even surprised when the words escape his mouth. The guy’s known me since I was five. What did I expect?

  I throw my head back with a sigh. “What gave it away?”

  “Come on, man. I’m not dumb. You brought her back here. Now, I doubt it’s because she’s amazing in bed or because she’s just a friend. You care about her, don’t you?”

  I think for a few seconds, my mind racing.

  “Yes, I do.”

  This is the first time I’ve said that out loud since the night I told her I loved her. No wonder she might want more after that. Might as well ask her to marry me and then push her away while I’m at it. Watching her eyes close felt like someone gutting me on repeat. She was losing a lot of blood and about to pass out in my arms and it just… it just came out, I guess.

  But now, I know it was a mistake. This can only hurt her more. I still don’t know why the hell I said it.

  “And we haven’t, by the way.”

  “You haven’t what?” he asks, but quickly puts the pieces together. “Oh. You mean…”

  I nod.

  “Not even a little?”

  “Nope.”

  He scoffs. “Wow. Haze Adams saves himself. That’s a first.”

  My mind wanders to the dress stunt she pulled on me this morning. Does she know that I’m this close to pushing her up against the wall and ripping her clothes off, or is she really just that oblivious?

  She asked me to unzip her dress, and I genuinely have no clue how I didn’t strip her naked right there.

  Not to mention that she’s slept in her underwear every single night since she agreed to join me in my bedroom, and I’m beginning to think she’s testing me.
r />   No, I know she’s testing me.

  Vic’s words come back to me. Haze Adams saves himself.

  If he only knew.

  “It’s not me I’m saving. It’s her. And trust me, it hasn’t been easy. She’s driving me completely insane. I’m telling you it’s like she’s doing everything in her power to make me break. All I want to do is back her up into a corner and…” I clench my jaw and stop myself from sharing the very dirty thoughts I’ve been repressing. “My balls are as blue as the fucking sky at this point, but I can’t do that to her. I know if I sleep with her, she’ll want more.”

  “And you don’t?” he asks.

  Do I?

  “I can’t. You know that.”

  “Says who?”

  I grow irritated. “Says my entire life, Vic. Where have you been the past four years? You know I can never give her what she wants.”

  A short silence follows.

  “Does she know?”

  “What? That she’s wasting her time with me? I don’t think so. Not yet, at least.”

  “Then why did you bring her here? If you really don’t want to commit? Why bring her to your hometown?”

  He doesn’t believe a word I’m saying.

  “Because…” I open my mouth and close it.

  Truth is, I don’t know why.

  Why do I do anything when it comes to Winter Kingston these days? Question of the century, folks.

  “Haze… it’s been four years since—”

  One look from me. Just one.

  That’s all it takes for him to stop talking.

  He retracts himself. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. We said not to go there. But you’re going to have to talk about it eventually. It’s time to start living again. And that girl… she could be it.”

  Does he really think I don’t know that?

  “Boys, the caterers will be here soon. Get your asses off that couch and come help us set everything up,” Bea calls from the kitchen.

  We exchange brief looks that mean the conversation is over and get up. We walk to the door, and one second before he turns the handle, he glances back at me.

  “Listen, I don’t know how long you’re in town for, but if you ever need to talk, I’m here. I’ve had your back since kindergarten. I’m not stopping now.”

  I crack a sincere smile and follow him into the living room. I can’t believe he’s saying that to me after what I did. I regret cutting him off and ghosting him for years. I don’t deserve his friendship. I stopped deserving it the second I left town with my family and started ignoring his calls. But he reminded me of things I couldn’t bring to my new life. And so, to leave those things behind…

  I had to leave him, too.

  Winter

  “Thank you so much for dinner, guys.” I throw my arms around Bea’s neck and hug her like we’re best friends—which is funny considering we barely knew each other’s names a few hours ago. She’s a sweetheart, and I couldn’t have asked for a better person to be “stuck” with after Haze dropped the friend bomb on me.

  We say our goodbyes to Vic, Bea, and Rory the pug and walk to the elevator in silence. It’s around 7:00 p.m. We’re leaving earlier than the other guests because we’ve been here the entire day and, frankly, we’ve had enough of this social thing.

  Overall, the dinner party was great. It was fancy so, of course, the food was delicious. It wasn’t even that awkward with Haze—okay, maybe the free champagne helped a little—and I managed to have some fun along the way.

  A friend of Vic asked for my number halfway through dinner. Haze witnessed the scene and got pissy. He didn’t say a single word to me for a good thirty minutes and kept shooting the poor guy killer looks.

  There he goes again with his mixed signals. So you haven’t made a move on me once in the whole time we’ve been alone, but you can’t stand to see someone else flirt with me?

  Thankfully, the ride to the lake house is filled with laughter and chitchat. The party put us into a good mood, and I’m not even interested in asking him about today’s confession. I’m done forcing things. If he wants me, he better make it clear.

  He pushes the lake house door open, and I sigh in relief.

  “Thank the Lord,” I say, collapsing on the couch and kicking my heels off. “Why did I do this to myself?”

  I ask myself this question every single time I wear heels, no exception. One day, I’ll learn.

  “What’s that smell?” Haze gags.

  I frown.

  “Found it.” He points to my bare feet.

  “Shut up.” I throw the pillow on the couch at him, and he dodges it, grinning.

  “Seriously, you should open a window or something.” He laughs.

  I’m about to send a snarky reply his way when my phone vibrates with a new text message. It’s from the guy I met tonight. He seemed nice and he was definitely cute, but I’d be lying if I said that the way Haze glared at us isn’t the only reason I gave him my number.

  “Who is it?” Haze pulls an eyebrow.

  “The guy from the party.”

  I think I see a hint of irritation flash in his eyes for one fleeting second.

  “What’s he saying?” He sits next to me.

  “None of your business.” I stick my phone two inches away from my face to text back without Haze seeing my reply.

  “Give me that.”

  In the blink of an eye, he’s stretched his arm out and stolen my phone away from me. I immediately bounce to retrieve it, but he’s too strong, and I quickly find myself howling with laughter while I try to take back what’s mine.

  “Wow. You’re actually a lot stronger than I thought.” He laughs while we go back and forth on the couch.

  “And you’re a lot weaker.” I tease.

  “Am I?”

  I can’t repress a small yelp when he stops going easy on me and pulls on the phone with all his strength. I fall backward onto the couch, laughing so hard it takes me a short instant to become aware of the position we’ve gotten ourselves into.

  He’s on top of me, our bodies as close as can be.

  The air gets stuck in the back of my throat when our eyes lock. Our laughter fades out until the only thing we can hear is the sound of our breathing merging. This is probably the closest we’ve been since the night he said he loved me. I expect him to pull away, the way he always does when we get too close, but he doesn’t.

  Not this time.

  His gaze descends to my mouth as one of his hand moves up to my waist. He places his available hand on my cheek, his thumb slowly running along my lower lip.

  Holy sweet mama of goodness.

  My heart starts hammering in my rib cage. He leans in, his face a few inches away from mine. Our lips are about to tou—

  “Anyone in here?” Multiple knocks on the front door make us jump.

  Haze lets out a short sigh. He doesn’t get up to open the door. Instead, he tightens his hold on my waist, the light fabric of my dress the only thing standing between his fingers and my bare skin. He’s going to wait for the cockblocker to go away.

  I find myself both hating and thanking the Universe for what’s happening. I’ve been playing this exact moment in my head on repeat for so long, and now that it’s here, I’m terrified. Until now, it was all speculation. But if we cross this line, there’s no going back. No more lying to myself. No more denying what I’m feeling. If we kiss, I’ll be all in.

  I’ll fall.

  Falling for Haze Adams feels like jumping out of a moving plane, realizing your parachute won’t open midair, completely freaking out as you slowly watch the ground get closer, only to land on a cloud, get back up and say, “Again! Again!” The fall is fucking terrifying... but the landing is beautiful.

  On knock number two, Haze sighs. We’re both thinking the same thing. He’s not going away. What he decides to do next renders me speechless. He leans in and whispers something against my lips.

  That’s it. I’m gone. Someone reboot my brain.


  He uses both his arms to pull himself up, gets off me, and drags his feet to the front door. Here I am, lying on the couch with my mouth agape and the last words he said to me spinning around in my head.

  Deep down, I wish he would’ve said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. It won’t happen again.” Then maybe I could get over his blue eyes and irresistible smile. Maybe I could forget the way he first kissed me on the beach and the sensation of his fingers tracing the curve of my hips.

  But he didn’t.

  Far from it.

  He said the one thing I was both desperate and afraid to hear…

  “We’re not done, Kingston.”

  10

  The Storm

  A man that looks around forty years old is standing on Haze’s porch, his eyes wrinkled with worry. He looks like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, the exhaustion taking all he has to give.

  “Yeah?” Haze’s voice is dry.

  “Hi. I’m so sorry to show up unannounced, Mr. Adams. I hope I’m not bothering you.”

  Here we go again with this Mr. Adams thing. Why do people in this town treat him like he’s their superior? I furrow my eyebrows, waiting for Haze to clarify the situation.

  “We were busy, actually.” Innuendo laces his voice. I bite back a smile. The guy has no shame, whatsoever.

  “I apologize. I saw your car in the driveway. I didn’t know someone was home. I’m afraid your parents didn’t mention that detail.”

  “That’s because they don’t know,” Haze says, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “My parents sent you?”

  “Yes. To check on the house for tonight’s storm.”

  So, this man is an employee of Haze’s parents? No, wait. Not the part I should focus on. There’s a freaking storm coming?

  “Hold on. What storm?” Haze asks.

  He doesn’t know either.

  “Didn’t you hear? It’s been expected for a while now.”

  That’s when the pieces come together. Today is Saturday. I think back to how Ryder, the guy who bought me the dress, said “Good luck for next Saturday” last week. I didn’t think much of it at first, but now it all makes sense.