Forgotten Rules: A Brother's Best Friend Romance

by Eliah Greenwood

  “He’s totally checking you out,” Winter agrees.

  “He asked me out two days ago,” I admit.

  “What’d you say?” my cousin asks.

  “No.”

  “What? Why?” Morgan is outraged. I get it. She first thought I had a thing for Will, but I never confirmed her suspicions. Then she saw me flirt with Luke, and it got her second-guessing everything. She must think I’m crazy to turn him down when I was acting so interested mere hours ago.

  “Just not looking to date right now.” I choke on my lie.

  I don’t think that’s true anymore.

  And that’s precisely what scares me.

  “I have to go to the bathroom.” Winter downs her drink and takes off.

  “Oh, okay, see you lat…”

  She’s already gone.

  Morgan’s eyes burn with intent. Crap, she’s totally going to grill me over this whole Luke thing.

  “Found ’em.” A familiar voice stops her, piercing through the deafening music, and I glance behind me to see Zoey approaching with Callie.

  Great.

  Just great.

  The one time Zoey decides not to ditch us, she has to invite Will’s fuck buddy to tag along.

  “What did I miss?” Zoey extends one arm around my neck for a hug. Her tequila bottle, which was full a second ago, is now almost empty. How?

  “Hey, girls.” Callie smiles, revealing white, aligned teeth.

  Damn it, she seems nice.

  Harmless, even.

  It’s not her fault. Don’t be a bitch, Kass.

  I knock some sense into myself and smile back.

  “Hey, where’s your boy?” Zoey asks Callie, who briefly scans the crowd and shrugs.

  “Don’t know. Lost him somewhere around the beer pong table.” She takes a sip out of a red cup.

  “So… is he your boyfriend?” Morgan asks bluntly.

  I glare at her, the plotting grin tugging at her lips giving her away. She’s obviously asking for me.

  “Oh, no.” Callie shakes her head. “We’re just… you know.”

  I grab Zoey’s booze bottle out of her hands for a second sip.

  “Or at least, we were.”

  My eyes drift back to her.

  “It lasted for a while, but… he stopped talking to me a few weeks ago. Don’t know why. He won’t even answer my texts.”

  The pressure in my chest decreases by a thousand.

  “I thought maybe he’d found someone new, but then… he invited me here tonight, so that’s got to count for something, right?” she says, a painfully clear shred of hope flashing in her eyes.

  Shit, I might’ve overreacted a bit.

  “Do you want to date him?” Morgan glimpses at me from the corner of her eye. She’s enjoying this way too much.

  “I wish.” Callie chews on her bottom lip, trapped in hot, sweaty Will memories I’m sure. “I mean, who wouldn’t? Those eyes. That smile.” She inches forward as if to tell us a secret, “And between us girls, he’s a fucking god in bed. His dick is huge and a bit curved, so it hits all the right sp—”

  Okayyy, I’m not nearly drunk enough for this.

  Telling Morgan I’m going to grab another drink, I edge my way through the crowd faster than Callie started oversharing. I can’t believe it. Now I get to hear about how good Will is in the sack, too?

  Not cool, life.

  Sucking in a breath, I reach for a beer in the stacked cooler on the kitchen table.

  “I didn’t take you for a beer girl.”

  Speaking of the devil.

  I turn to find Will staring at me, a hint of a smirk on his face. I drink him in. His cut body, his right hand tucked in his pocket, his left clenching a Jell-O shot. It’s a no-brainer—he looks like my next mistake.

  One I’ve been waiting my whole life to make.

  I snap out of it. “I didn’t take you for a Jell-O shot guy.”

  “Yeah, well…” He surprises me by stepping closer. “That just goes to show maybe you should get to know me better.”

  Flustered by the sudden proximity, I move away, but the back of my thighs bump against the kitchen table, halting my escape. The smug bastard continues to lean in, cutting off my air supply and enjoying it. I’ve got zilch to go on when it comes to this guy’s intentions, so I do the only thing I can: swallow hard and wait for him to make a move—any move.

  Finally, he does.

  He drops his red Jell-O shot on the table behind me, “accidentally” grazing my arm in the process, and pulls back. Like nothing happened. Like he wasn’t this close to my face seconds ago. That’s his thing. Giving me just enough to make me wonder. Just enough to make me doubt my sanity.

  He leaves behind enough bread crumbs to keep me chasing.

  But never enough to be caught.

  Am I crazy? Did I imagine it all?

  Beats me.

  Only… this time is different.

  There’s a look in his eyes—a knowing look. It unveils the truth, exposes him for what he is. A cruel tempter. He’s doing this on purpose. He likes seeing me shudder.

  The question is why.

  “Think I know you pretty well already, Willy.” I collect myself. “You know, unless you go around telling your life story to everyone.”

  My reference to the biography he graced me with the night he snuck into my room blows him out of the water. I’m right and he knows it. I’d be surprised if he told many people about what happened to his dad. I’m not even sure Kendrick knows.

  “Where are your girls?” he deflects.

  “With yours.” I motion to Callie, Morgan, and Zoey laughing by the door.

  His eyes remain locked on me.

  “My what?” He raises an eyebrow.

  “Isn’t she your date?” I remind him.

  “Oh, right… Yeah, I guess she is.” He looks like he doesn’t give a rat’s ass.

  Eager to take the edge off, I begin fumbling with my beer cap, hoping it’s a twist-off—it’s not. Will scoffs, snatching the beer out of my hands and popping the cap in no time.

  Breaking news: it is a twist-off.

  I’m just weak as shit.

  “Got enough alcohol in you to tell me why you’re mad at me yet?” He hands me my beer.

  His bluntness stuns me.

  Am I really that obvious?

  “I—”

  “There you are.”

  Callie materializes out of nowhere, enveloping Will’s waist with her arms and clinging to his side. He doesn’t hug her back, but… he also doesn’t push her off.

  “We’re playing Spill It or Drink It. Come on.” Callie releases him from her embrace, tugging on his arm, but he resists.

  “Later.” His voice is as dry as it gets. “We’re in the middle of somethi—”

  “Hey.” A masculine voice reaches my ear.

  What seems to be annoyance crosses Will’s features. I whip my head to find the reason for his mood swing is none other than Luke.

  “Hey, Luke.” I manage a weak smile.

  What’s with the whole planet interrupting us tonight?

  “Come on, they’re waiting.” Callie tugs on Will’s arm again, bored with our conversation, but he barely acknowledges her.

  “Been looking for you. You still owe me that dance, you know.” Luke smiles.

  I open my mouth to answ—

  “Kass, you coming?” Will cuts in.

  I look up at him.

  “We have a game to play,” he presses.

  Taken aback, I stammer, “I-I don’t know the rules.”

  “Rule, singular. You answer the question or take a shot. The end,” Callie explains before her eyes flash with a naughty idea. Pushing to her tiptoes, she whispers in Will’s ear, “Or… we could go play a game of our own upstairs.”

  Hell no.

  “I’ll play if you play.” My hand lands on Luke’s forearm, reigniting the distant hope in his eyes.

  As his smile grows, my self-respect shrinks.
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  “Sure, why not?” Luke agrees.

  I lock eyes with a tight-jawed Will just as Callie’s dragging him out to the living room. I shamble behind, unable to shake the feeling that I just started a dangerous, whole other type of game.

  And the scary part?

  I don’t think I can win.

  Sitting on the floor, I prop my head back against Natasha’s—or whoever the owner of this place is—washing machine and wonder how I ended up here. Drinking tequila right out of the bottle in a stranger’s laundry room. Not that I’m complaining. The living room was crawling with sweaty party animals. The boys stumbled upon this closed space wandering around the house.

  “I think I’m going to sit this one out.” Morgan rises to her feet.

  “Everything okay?” I stop her.

  “I’m fine. Just need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back.”

  I ask her around twenty more times if she’s feeling okay before letting her go halfheartedly. Speaking of bathrooms, Winter must’ve discovered a secret door leading to another dimension in there because she never came back.

  Ironically, that’s when my phone lights up with a text from her.

  Winter: Went home. Don’t worry about me.

  I take in my surroundings. Zoey’s sitting on the dryer, feet hanging in the air, while Luke sits by my side. Across from us, squashed between a drying rack and a folding station, are Will and Callie. We’re all pretty wrecked from passing the tequila bottle around for thirty minutes.

  “Are we playing this game or what?” Zoey’s complaint swings us into action.

  The game starts off with Zoey asking us the stupidest questions. Have you ever had sex in public? What’s the wildest thing you’ve ever done? Think of a corny question—any corny question—they’ve asked it. A few rounds fly by, but I can’t bring myself to pay attention, worried sick about Morgan. In a fleeting, unwanted moment of weakness, I glance at Will.

  Sitting with one leg flat on the ground and the other braced against his chest, he seems bored out of his mind—can’t blame him. I flush when he lifts his eyes to mine, catching me staring.

  He smirks.

  Busted.

  Callie decides now is a good time to dump her leg over Will’s and nuzzle her cheek on his shoulder. He doesn’t push her away, but he also doesn’t return her affection, which almost soothes the burning jealousy in my chest.

  Key word: almost.

  I act without thinking, sagging against Luke’s chest, who welcomes my body in a heartbeat. I regret it instantly, but the way Will’s eyes flare keeps me in place. I think I see his jaw twitch for a second.

  Or maybe I’m just drunk and crazy.

  Five minutes later, I’m this close to ditching them to go check on Morgan. This isn’t me. I’m leading on a perfectly nice boy and for what? For the guy with another girl on his lap?

  Just as I’m about to get up, someone calls on me.

  Will.

  “Kass.” He declares me his next victim.

  I blink at him, but I can’t find a sliver of kindness in his eyes.

  “What?”

  “Have you ever used someone to make somebody else jealous?”

  Silence befalls our circle.

  Did he just…

  Is he accusing me?

  I mean, he does have a point.

  Shut up, inner Kass.

  “Spill it or drink it,” he nags me.

  Fucker.

  I bring the shot to my lips, throwing it back in seconds.

  “Okay. Hottie Blondie.” Zoey claims her turn.

  He scoffs. “Name’s Will.”

  She ignores him. “Have you ever fantasized about anyone in this circle?”

  A hopeful smile tugging at her lips, Callie eagerly awaits his reply. I should excuse myself. Go find Morgan. I really don’t need to listen to Will talk about how bangable Callie is—I mean, duh, he chose her as his friend with benefits for a reason—but I can’t move a muscle. All I can do is sit there and brace myself.

  “Yes.” It takes him forever to admit it.

  Satisfied, Callie runs her manicured hand down his lap—let’s be honest, it’s not his lap she’s going for—but he doesn’t pay her much mind. In fact, he doesn’t even look at her.

  No, the person he’s looking at…

  Is me.

  It becomes that much harder to breathe. He won’t flinch. Not for one second. The craziest part is, I have no idea if that thing in his gaze is hate…

  Or desire.

  Intimidated, I split the eye contact, only to realize the others have already moved on to the next question. I can’t seriously be the only one noticing this tension. Jesus. It isn’t nearly long enough before Zoey’s turn rolls back around. I know she’s got a plan in mind when she shoots Callie a mischievous look.

  What now?

  “Will, who’s the person you fantasized about in this circle?”

  I can’t blame her. She’s only trying to help her friend out. So why do I feel betrayed?

  “Is that even a question?” Callie snorts confidently.

  Again, Will’s eyes find me.

  For fuck’s sake, he’s got to stop doing that. He’s going to give me a heart attack.

  Then, because my life is a bad joke, the exact moment Will looks at me is the moment Luke decides to grow some balls and make a move, sliding his hand up my bare thigh. Will sees it, his glare shadowing Luke’s movement.

  “Hello?” Zoey urges. “Answers?”

  Callie chuckles. “How’s that for an answer?”

  She doesn’t waste a single second, gripping Will’s face with both hands and smashing their mouths together for a slow, heated kiss. He doesn’t kiss her back.

  Until… he does.

  She adds tongue.

  He lets her.

  That’s how I know I have to fucking go. Because Morgan was right. My brain can deny it, but the ache in my chest doesn’t lie.

  It’s more than physical.

  I like him.

  I like Will.

  And I wish I was the one kissing him right now.

  “I’m going to go check on Morgan,” I tell Zoey and rush out of the laundry room without so much as a goodbye. By the time Luke calls my name, I’ve already rejoined the raging party and lost myself into the crowd.

  I triple text Morgan, check the first-floor bathrooms to no avail, and run into Alex, who tells me he found her puking her guts out in the upstairs bathroom. Anxiety and guilt grip me. I should’ve checked on her ages ago.

  I knock once. “Morgan? Are you okay? It’s me.”

  “Come in,” the faintest of voices replies.

  Zoey’s words crawl back into my brain as I burst into the bathroom to find Morgan half-passed-out on the toilet seat.

  Amazing night, huh?

  Amazing, my ass.

  “I’ll be right back with some water,” I assure Morgan, heading out of the vacant bedroom I transferred her into. Lying on the king bed in a star position, she rambles on about how she’ll never drink again. Funny enough, in contrast to the many drunk girls I’ve heard say that at parties in the past, I actually believe her.

  I texted Zoey that Morgan was sick and it was time to call it a night over twenty minutes ago. Took her ten to answer, but finally, she did, promising she’d come and get us once the Uber is here.

  Slipping inside the bathroom where I found Morgan, I wince at my reflection in the mirror. I threw my disgusting alcohol-steeped dress back on. The stain isn’t that bad, but the smell… Safe to say this dress met its expiration date.

  Twisting the tap open, I fill up a glass I swiped from the kitchen and curse under my breath when the door creaks open behind me. I set the glass down and spin on my heels, ready to tell some random, drunk guy to get lost.

  Except it’s not some random guy.

  It’s Will.

  Red-eyed, drunk as hell, cockier-than-ever Will. Looking me up and down, he doesn’t say a word, walks in—

  And slam
s the door.

  Kassidy

  “What do you want?” I say, images of Callie eating his face off still fresh in my mind. Boiling on the inside, I divert my attention to my reflection, waiting for him to take a hint and leave.

  He doesn’t.

  “Just here to talk to my friend. Or is that not allowed?”

  I only hear one word.

  Friend.

  He stalks toward me, testing my resolve. Just ignore him, Kass. My body may not give him the attention he seeks, but my heart does. My heart is giving him attention all right. It’s pounding like a goddamn idiot right now.

  “I’m leaving. You should go back to the party,” I mutter.

  That’s his snapping point.

  “Okay. Just say it.”

  His outburst catches me off guard.

  I spin. “Say what?”

  “Whatever it is that’s got you acting so weird. You’re mad at me. Why?”

  Shit.

  “I’m not mad.” Even I don’t believe me.

  “Cut the crap. You’ve been cold as shit to me. You can’t even look at me. Just fucking say it, Kass.”

  Deep down, I know exactly what the true answer to his question is: I’m not mad at him. I’m mad at myself. No, I’m furious at myself for catching feelings for the guy who has none.

  But am I going to tell him that?

  Heck no.

  Instead, I inhale a deep breath, opting for the response I don’t mean. It’s my only chance, the only way I’ll come out of this unscathed.

  “I… I think we should stop talking.”

  “What?” He frowns, his tone a mix of anger and confusion.

  “You know, texting, being friends. We should stop.”

  “But…” His voice softens. “Why?”

  “I just think it’s for the best.” I attempt to clear the pit in my throat, only to have it expand in size.

  I need to get out of this bathroom.

  Now.

  With my head hanging low, I round him, moving toward the door, but he stops me, snatching my wrist and jerking me to his exposed chest. His body is hard, burning to the touch. I want to push him off, run before his proximity turns my brain into goo, but I can’t move a muscle, reminiscing about the good old days where I could breathe properly.