Forgotten Rules: A Brother's Best Friend Romance

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Forgotten Rules: A Brother's Best Friend Romance Page 6

by Eliah Greenwood


  “And what’s that?” I dare ask.

  I know I’m not imagining things when his eyes fall to my lips again. I wait for him to look away, but he doesn’t.

  “You really want to know?” he says so quietly I find myself bending forward to hear better.

  I reply with a small nod.

  He smirks, inching closer.

  And closer.

  “I want—”

  He’s stopped by the Darth Vader theme song.

  What the…

  What was in that brownie?

  My concerns about my mental health vanish when I spot Will’s phone going off on the grass.

  “Fan of Star Wars, huh? Good to know,” I sneer, but he doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t even crack a smile.

  “We have to go. Now.” He charges out of the tub, holding out his hand and helping me out, as well.

  “Why? What’s the rush?”

  “Folks are coming home.” He picks his clothes off the ground, struggling to stuff wet legs into completely dry jeans.

  Wow, this was a dumb plan.

  He finally wins the battle against his pants, beckoning to help him move the hot tub cover back into place. I do just that and sweep my top and leggings off the grass. He must see the hesitation in my eyes as I glance at my clothes because he blurts, “No time. Come on!”

  He bands a hand around my wrist, speed walking toward the gate. His touch sends shivers throughout my entire body. Okay. High is not a good look on me.

  “What the hell is going on? Why are you acting like your parents are going to kick you out of your house?”

  Will stops dead, flashes me his million-dollar smile over his shoulder, and says, “Who said it was mine?”

  My jaw drops.

  “What?” I shriek, but I know I won’t be getting an answer. Because he starts running. Allow me to revise—we start running, Will’s grip on my wrist leaving me no choice but to follow.

  “Are you out of your fucking mind? This is breaking and entering. Whose house is this?”

  My heart is beating double time.

  He’s laughing so hard it’s hard to make out what he’s saying. “Alex’s. He had shit to do today, and I lent him my car. His parents were out tonight, and since he owed me a favor, I asked him if we could use his hot tub. He said he’d call when they were on their way. I thought we’d be gone by now.”

  Alex’s.

  Of course. His parents just moved, which explains why I didn’t recognize their place. Will probably texted him when we left the party to collect that favor. So much for their epic bromance.

  “How long do we have before they get here?”

  “Ten seconds tops.”

  Ten.

  We reach the car.

  Nine.

  Will squeezes his keys out of his wet jeans pocket and wrestles with the lock.

  Eight.

  He manages to yank the door open.

  Seven.

  I’m about to go to the other side, but he stops me, motioning to get in through his door.

  Six.

  I do.

  Five.

  We both scramble inside.

  Four.

  Will fires up the engine.

  Three.

  We reverse out of the driveway.

  Two.

  We see a red car turn the corner.

  One.

  We take off into the night at full speed.

  I let out a breath of relief, watching Alex’s parents pull into their driveway through the rearview mirror. We’re so pumped on adrenaline, it takes us a good five seconds to realize we’ve just barely made it. We lock eyes. And start laughing like we’re five, which, right now, we are.

  “Any other house you feel like breaking into tonight?” I pant.

  His eyes light up. “Actually—”

  “Don’t even think about it.” I scold.

  He laughs.

  “Usual high lasts six hours. We still have four to kill.”

  His statement catches me off guard. He didn’t even ask, just assumed he was keeping me company.

  “Oh… you really don’t have to hang out with me all night, it’s fine. I’ll just face whatever punishment my mom has in store for me.”

  “Nice try. I’m having too much fun getting you out of your comfort zone.”

  A grateful smile defies my better judgment, peeking through without my consent. That’s kind of nice of him.

  “Okay, then. Where to?”

  “There’s something I want to show you” is all he says.

  I pull my dripping wet hair into a loose bun, shivering in places I didn’t even know I could—I’m still wearing nothing but Will’s large soaked T-shirt on top of my underwear. He notices, cranking up the heat. I thank him with a nod, tugging his T-shirt farther down my exposed thighs. I hate myself for admitting it but… For a guy who acts dead inside,

  He sure knows how to make me feel alive.

  Kassidy

  “For fuck’s sake, woman, calm down. I’m giving you the food,” Will laughs, swiping his card back from the employee and driving away from the Taco Bell drive-through in a rumble. We’re not even out of the parking lot before I’m snatching the bag out of his hands. Long story short, as soon as we fled Alex’s house, high Kass decided it was time for her favorite part of the day—eating.

  “Hungry, I am. Food, you feed me,” I told Will in my best Yoda voice, and after he mocked me for five minutes straight, he complied and drove me straight to Taco Bell. He even paid.

  “I’ll pay you back for that.” I pull out my taco.

  “No, you won’t.”

  “Yes, I will. I’m a woman of my words, Willy.”

  “I’m not going to let you pay me back, control freak.”

  Why do I sense I just started a never-ending nickname battle?

  “How not to be controlling 101: shut up and learn to let people treat you every once in a while.” He pulls onto the highway.

  A small grin stretches over my lips.

  “Is that what this is? Why you wanted to hang out all night? You’re trying to fix me?”

  “So what if I am?”

  I toss a fry at him. “From what? Control? I’m not a prisoner.”

  He picks up the fry that just landed on his jeans and lobs it into his mouth. Five-second rule? More like “I’ll eat anything if the floor’s clean enough” rule. Famished, I bite into my taco, nearly dropping sauce on my leggings in the process.

  Will made a pit stop at a gas station so we could throw our clothes back on before raiding Taco Bell. I can’t seem to forget the cashier’s face when we walked in—Will shirtless, flaunting his six-pack, me pantless, rocking a knee-length T-shirt—and asked for the bathroom keys. What kind of fuckery is this, she was clearly thinking. And I couldn’t agree more. This night couldn’t be further from what I thought it would be.

  “For the record, I’m getting that Yoda thing engraved on your tombstone,” he deadpans.

  “Hey, you’re the one who wanted to hang out with me all night. I’m not responsible for any of the weird shit I say in the next few hours, thank you very much.” I watch as Will aims for an exit I don’t recognize. “Where are you taking me?”

  Stealing a fry, he grins. “Somewhere even higher than you are.”

  “A walk in the woods? Seriously? It’s four in the morning and you want me to exercise?” I whine, following Will down a hiking trail and wondering why high Kass lacks basic brain functions.

  This is the definition of dumb, not to mention so unlike me. I would never, in a million years, advise someone to follow a guy into a forest alone at night, yet here I am, agreeing to my brother’s best friend whack plan without blinking.

  “Relax. It’s a five-minute walk tops,” he assures me.

  I refrain from arguing, shadowing him down the narrow path. Will’s “secret spot” turned out to be a lot farther from home than I expected. It took us almost two hours to get here. Crazy part is, I didn’t mind the drive, too
busy bickering with him about who finished the fries.

  We can hear cars whooshing in the distance. This jogging trail is situated near the highway, separating the road from an obviously wealthy neighborhood. I’ve never been to this area before, but Will seems to know it like the back of his hand.

  Yes, Will is dragging me into a random forest at four in the morning, but at least, it’s a nice forest. The path is paved and bordered by white lights. I bet a bunch of vegan girls jog here in the morning and post about it on their Instagram stories.

  “Somewhere higher than I am.” I recall his words. “Are we climbing a tree?”

  He slows the pace, thinking his answer through.

  “That’s exactly what we’re doing.”

  What the fuck?

  “Just a bit further.” He motions, stepping off the trail and venturing into the woods.

  This is it.

  He’s going to kill me.

  “Okay, you’ve just reached a whole new level of creepy, Martins,” I mumble under my breath.

  He smiles at that but doesn’t grace me with a response, focused on finding his way. His way to where, you ask? The best spot to bury me, probably.

  Five minutes later, he stops.

  “Thank fuck,” he rejoices.

  That’s when I see it.

  A tree house.

  “I was starting to think someone tore it down,” he adds.

  I assess the wood structure and its hanging ladder for a few seconds. It’s far from the path, well hidden, probably hard to find unless you know where it is. It’s the kind of house Kendrick and I desperately wanted as kids but never got because our parents can’t build shit. Dad always said he would do it only to bail whenever we reminded him.

  I zoom in on the old, cracked ladder. The whole place looks like a dream. An old, faded, abandoned dream. My guess is it’s been a hot minute since Will was here.

  Fascinated, I move close—

  “Careful!” he blurts, gripping my waist and yanking me backward so fast the breath is knocked out of me. Sagging against his chest, I screech and gape at my feet, realizing I almost stepped into some sort of ditch. It’s covered in dead leaves, just about impossible to see. Looks deep, too.

  “You good?”

  I hear his question, but all I can think about are his hands on my waist.

  “Kass?” he asks again.

  “I-I’m sorry?”

  “I said are you good?” He lets out a quiet laugh, so close the warmth of his breath tickles my ear.

  “Uh, yeah, I-I’m good, great, fantastic.” I clear my throat.

  He releases my hips.

  “Come on. View’s better up there,” he says, as cool as a freaking cucumber, and as I watch him climb up the ladder…

  I can’t help wishing I felt that way, too.

  “Is this yours?” I ask, hair waving in the wind, feet hanging in the emptiness. We’re both sitting near the edge of the open tree house, staring at the horizon.

  The sun will be rising soon.

  “It used to be. My dad and I built it when I was a kid,” he explains.

  “Oh, you live in the neighborhood?”

  “Not anymore. We moved.”

  Well, duh. It took us a while to get here. He’d be way too far from school. I’ve never cared to find out anything about Will’s life before, convinced he was nothing more than Kendrick’s clown friend. But now? I wish I’d bothered to listen when my brother talks. Just so I would know a thing or two about the blue-eyed mystery next to me.

  “Yeah? How long ago was that?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. Like ten years.”

  “No way you haven’t been here in ten years.” I scrutinize the cabin. Barely any leaves lie inside. This definitely isn’t a decade’s worth of dirt. Not to mention the foundation of the tree house feels rock-solid.

  “I still come here from time to time. To clear my head.”

  “Let me guess, I’m the first girl you brought here?” I huff in expectation of a major cliché.

  “Please,” he scoffs. “I lost my virginity right where you’re sitting.”

  Annnd there he is.

  He laughs. “Look, if it makes you feel any better, you’re the first girl I brought here with no intention to shag.”

  I force a smile, nibbling at the inside of my cheek. Is he saying he doesn’t want to shag me? As in ever? Not that I want him to want to shag me but…

  Oh my God, Kass, shut the fuck up.

  “Thanks. I feel real special.” I cradle my legs to my chest, hugging them to my body and resting my chin on top of my knees. It’s getting chilly out. “How is that a good hookup spot though? What’s your line? Hey, want to go fuck in a tree?”

  “Who says I need a line? Chicks get all mushy when you show them your childhood tree house,” he jokes—I think?

  “Is that why you brought me here? To make me mushy?”

  He looks up and smiles.

  “Nah. I brought you here for that.”

  My mouth dips open when I catch the distant mingle of colors blending through the trees. We have a perfect shot of the rising sun from up here.

  “Holy shit.”

  “I know,” he whispers.

  We don’t say a word for over five seconds.

  “Can we just never leave?” I ask.

  “We’re going to have to, eventually. Preferably before you turn into a block of ice.”

  So, he noticed how cold I am.

  “I’m fine,” I lie.

  He doesn’t say another word, removes his jacket, that he found lying in the back seat of his car earlier, and drops it on my shoulders, no questions asked.

  I heave a chuckle. “You’re the most confusing guy on earth, you know that? One second you’re talking about shagging in a tree, and the next you’re giving a girl your jacket.” I stare up at him. “I feel sorry for anyone who’s ever had the misfortune of falling in love with you.”

  When the words escape my lips, a mix of emotions race through his eyes. Pain, annoyance, or is it… shame? He avoids my gaze, suddenly colder than I am.

  “Trust me.” He pauses. “I’m sorry, too.”

  Woah, do I smell a backstory?

  Just as I’m working up the courage to ask, he rises to his feet. “It’s getting late. Or early. Whatever. We should go.”

  He’s making his way back down before I can even attempt to adjust to his mood shift. Confused, I rear myself up, smooth my wrinkled, still-wet clothes down, and mirror his actions.

  It’s past six a.m. when Will’s car comes to a slow stop in front of my house. I’m 99 percent certain my high is over, but then again, when we needed the GPS on the way back, I forgot my own address.

  “Hey, you never answered me earlier,” I remind him.

  Will pushes the gear into park, drops his head against the headrest, and sends a glance my way. He can barely keep his eyes open, just as exhausted as I am.

  “You said you wanted to release me. But not from what.”

  “From yourself,” he says like it should be obvious.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “All that pressure you put on your shoulders, this obsession you have of controlling everything, to please everybody, it’s eating at you.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with a little planning,” I counter.

  “Fine, don’t believe me. Keep it all bottled up. The quiet ones make the best explosions.”

  Then, because this night isn’t absurd enough already, my genius self decides to add, “Is this a silent fart joke?”

  Never mind, still high.

  Will laughs quietly, shaking his head like he’s wondering what he’s going to do with me. His dark blue eyes mix with mine.

  “Anyone ever tell you you’re fucking ridiculous when you’re high?”

  That’s when it hits me.

  Shit, I’m attracted to him.

  Not only am I attracted to him, I’ve been attracted to him this entire freaking night.
A week ago, I didn’t even see his charm, much less appreciate it, but now… I can’t deny my body’s reaction to his dimples, those ocean eyes, that laugh.

  “What I meant is you let people walk all over you,” he continues. “Like that friend of yours, Zoey. She treats you like trash and you don’t even bat an eye. You’re obsessed with controlling every stupid little thing in your life because you let others control you.”

  “Zoey? That’s your argument? I’m just being a good friend.”

  He’s not going down without a fight. “Aight. What about the time I pushed you in the pool two summers back? You never tried to get back at me. Never even said a thing.”

  I remember that time all too well. It marked the beginning of my boycotting of Kendrick’s friends.

  “Maybe I’ve been planning my revenge for months, you ever think about that?”

  He scoffs. “You’re not. I’d know.”

  “Nobody plans a murder out loud.”

  Rather than answering, he leans forward, wearing a confident smile. I stiffen as he breaches my space. Our eyes lock through the darkness of the car: his, teasing, mine, nervous and alert. He’s not so close that I could call him out on it, but also not far enough for me to act unfazed.

  I hold my breath when he leans in some more. Then he reaches for my handle and pushes my door open.

  Relief takes up all the space in my chest. Except it’s laced with something else. The most unexpected emotion.

  Disappointment.

  He reclines into his seat. “One day it’s all going to be too much. You’re going to lose it. And it’s going to be fucking amazing.”

  I don’t let the thought in. Not even for a second. He’s way off-base here. Yes, Zoey can be a little selfish sometimes, I’ll give him that, but she’s a good person at heart.

  “Whatever floats your boat, Willy.” I unbuckle my seat belt, shake off his speech, and climb out of the car, keeping the door open long enough to say, “Thanks for sticking with me tonight. It was…” I pause. “Something.”

  He smiles.

  “Anytime, control freak.”

  I find myself grinning at the nickname. I know control freak is an insult, a mean thing to say, but the way he says it… it sure doesn’t feel like it. I wave, shut the door, and jog toward my house. As soon as it engulfs me, he drives off.

 

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