Kissing & Telling: A Friends To Lovers Romance (Breaking The Rules Novel Book 1)

by Jenna Reed

  “He’s not going to be happy,” I tell him, my gaze following the houses as we drive into the development that we grew up in. The houses are all cookie-cutter, the lawns cut to the same length. This place reminds me more and more of why I love the city. I drag my gaze back down to my hands. Elijah’s father never told me outright that he didn’t like me, and he’s always been somewhat kind to me. I really can’t pinpoint a specific thing he’s said or done to make me feel this way, it’s more like a gut feeling, a vibe he gives off toward me.

  That same feeling tells me that as soon as he finds out that we are dating now, he will make not liking me common knowledge. He’ll probably accuse me of being a gold digger or something just as absurd.

  “Ash is here too, so you don’t even have to pay my dad a lot of attention. Just talk to my brother and if dinner becomes too uncomfortable, we’ll leave. Honestly, if you don’t want to go, I’ll turn the car around, and we’ll go eat out somewhere. We don’t have to do this right now. We have all the time in the world, Sunflower.”

  I know we don’t have to do this right now, but it’s been a week of dating and while we haven’t told everyone, my father already knows, so in my mind, Elijah’s should too.

  “No, this is your family. I want to get along with your father,” I tell him, even though the idea sounds less than appealing.

  “From the sound of it, it seems like you would rather eat glass.”

  My face deadpans. “That’s not true. I just know your father’s thoughts on women. I would much rather not sit through a dinner of degrading, is all.”

  Elijah sighs, knowing damn well that I’m right. Just then, we pull up to his childhood home, and the bile in my stomach starts to rise up my throat. He parks the car and twists around in his seat so he can see my face.

  “Look, if he’s smart, he won’t say shit. It’s not his choice to make, it’s mine. Nothing he says will ever change how I feel about you, Sunflower… you believe that, don’t you?”

  I shrug.

  Do I believe that? Can I compete with a thought that’s been ingrained into someone’s mind their entire life? Elijah reaches for me, nearly dragging me across the center console and onto his lap.

  “I love you, Bailey Marie, and nothing anyone says is ever going to change that. My father can eat shit if he thinks he’s going to make a choice for me like this one. I’m in charge of my heart, and my heart chooses you.”

  Oh god, he’s using the L word again. Since that night in his kitchen, he hasn’t used it, and I haven’t said it back, being far too afraid to. But as I look up into his sea blue eyes, I’m met with nothing but honesty, with compassion, with love.

  “I know, and I believe you, so let’s go have dinner before I get hangry. You know how I get when I’m hangry.” I jut my bottom lip out in a pout.

  “Oh, I know.” He grins. “Let’s go fill up your belly, so we can go home, and I can fill up something else of yours.”

  I’m still giggling, a permanent smile on my lips when we reach the porch, the door that used to always be open is closed now. I frown a bit at the thought. Then again, I guess Mr. Westbrook doesn’t have a need to have his door open anymore, with the boys no longer running in and out of it.

  Blinking away the memory, I take Elijah’s hand into mine, he gives it a gentle squeeze before lifting a hand to knock on the door. Moments later, I hear heavy footfalls followed by Asher’s form in the doorway, as he opens it with a wide smile.

  “Hey, Bailey. Come on in. Dinner should be here soon.” Asher gives me an impish grin, motioning for us to come in. Looking between Asher and Elijah now that they’re side by side, I see that they look more and more similar with each day. If I didn’t know that Asher was, in fact, older than Elijah, I might think they’re twins. “And dude, since when do you knock?”

  “Since it’s no longer my house and I don’t live here?” I notice Asher’s gaze catch on mine and Elijah’s joined hands. I don’t like the attention that us being together brings.

  I try to pull my hand away, but Elijah just tightens his grip on me. “No hiding, Sunflower.” Elijah leans down and whispers as he guides us toward the kitchen.

  My eyes fall on Mr. Westbrook. The man even being nearly fifty looks like George Clooney. I’m pretty sure it’s in this family’s blood to look like they just came from a photoshoot.

  “Hey son,” he greets Elijah before turning his attention to me. “Bailey, nice to see you.” His words are emotionless and I know he is just saying them out of politeness. Well, two can play this game.

  “Likewise, thank you for having me tonight.” He gives me a curt nod before taking a long pull from his beer bottle. Then he walks away. Most of the evening is uneventful and we end up spending most of dinner caught in this strange overly polite exchanging-state.

  It might not be real, the room oozing with pleasantries, but it’s better than what I expected. I can deal with the fake politeness, but not with the condescending talk, which I’ve heard enough of over the years from Mr. Westbrook.

  By the end of the night, we have fallen into such a routine that it almost does feel real. Everyone seems to be relaxed and content. Asher and Elijah discuss some up and coming meetings with James, Elijah’s father, and myself sip on wine. The food, which was delivered from a local restaurant is delicious, and the wine that Elijah got from the basement pair perfectly well with it. Things are going so well that I almost forget that we’re here visiting Elijah’s father, almost.

  “I’m going to use the restroom,” I excuse myself right after dessert. Elijah squeezes my hand under the table and gives me a panty-melting smile before I disappear down the hall and into the bathroom. My eyes skim over the photos of Asher and Elijah which can still be found hanging on the walls in the hallway. Two blue-eyed boys with dark curls and one of them is all mine.

  After washing my hands, I refresh my lip gloss and use my fingers to smooth out my hair a bit. I walk back toward the dining room thinking to myself how surprisingly nice this evening has turned out to be, when all my thoughts come to a sudden halt.

  “Son, you’re thinking with the wrong head. You’ve got to be stupid to think that she is any different from all the other women in this world. She wants your money and nothing else.” James’ stern voice meets my ear. Smacking my lips, I let the shock of what I heard sink in. I don’t know why I’m shocked or surprised. I was expecting him to say something like this.

  “Dad, you don’t know what you are talking about.” Elijah’s aggravated tone pierces through the fog surrounding my mind.

  “She’s a gold digger. Just like your mother was after my money and Bailey’s mother was after her husband’s money. Women want money, and they think they can use that thing between their legs to get it.”

  “What the fuck, Dad?” Asher cuts in.

  “It’s the truth, and you both know it. You’ve seen the damage firsthand. Your mom left us high and dry without a single glance. She didn’t give a shit about us, just like that girl won’t give a shit about you once she gets her slimy hands on your bank account.”

  I take a step back, trying to get as much distance between me and the scene playing out inside the dining room. How dare he talk about my mother like that. I could have handled him talking down about me, but my mother, my dead mother, no way.

  I take another few steps back, my thoughts in disarray. I’m paying no attention to my surroundings, which causes me to bump into the hallway entry table, knocking over a lamp. I try and grab for it, but my fingers clutch at nothing but air. Watching in horror, I hold my breath as it lands on the wood floor with a deafening crash, shattering into a million pieces of glass that fly in every direction. Shit. Heavy footsteps sound off in the distance as I bend down to pick up the broken pieces, but it feels like I’m picking up more than broken pieces of glass. It feels like I’m picking up the pieces of my shattered heart too.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmur when Elijah kneels down next to me to help me pick up the glass. Tears are a
lready streaking my cheeks.

  Stupid lamp. Stupid dinner. Stupid tears.

  I wish I could hold them in and not give James the satisfaction of getting to me, but I can’t. I’m like an overflowing river of emotion right now.

  “Don’t be sorry, Sunflower… it’s just—” Elijah’s words cut off, and I feel his gaze hot on my face. “Are you crying?” His question only making me sob more. I wipe at my cheeks shamefully with the back of my hand, but the tears just keep falling.

  “Bailey… Sunflower…” The agony in Elijah’s tone guts me, and yet I still can’t say anything.

  Asher comes up to us a second later. “You heard him, didn’t you?”

  All I can manage is a nod, the lump clogging up my throat won’t even allow a simple yes through.

  “Motherfucker.” Elijah jumps to his feet, but Asher puts his hands on his shoulders before he can storm off and do something undoubtedly stupid.

  “Why don’t you take her home and I’ll clean this up,” Asher suggests. “There’s no point in starting a fight that you won’t win. Don’t give him the satisfaction of getting mad.”

  I look up through my tears, watching Elijah struggle to make up his mind. His jaw tenses and his body vibrates with anger. I know he wants to go and say something to his dad, but he also wants to take me home. I appreciate him wanting to protect me from his father, but it’s not needed. Nothing Elijah says will change his father’s mind about me.

  James is nothing but an old grumpy man that got his heart broken, and above everything else, I should feel sorry for him. I won’t let him get to me.

  “Please, can we go home,” I finally manage to say.

  Elijah’s eyes soften at my question. “Yes, let’s go home and forget that tonight ever happened. It was a mistake for me to bring you here. I should have listened to you. Come on.”

  I don’t need to be told twice. I’ll definitely try to forget James’ hurtful words. Elijah offers me a hand and helps me up off the floor. We don’t even go back into the dining room for our jackets, which is fine since we left our phones in the car and Elijah has the key to his car in his pocket. I give Asher a quick hug before we exit without saying our goodbyes to James, who doesn’t even make an effort to come and say goodbye to Elijah.

  As soon as we are in the confines of the car, I feel like I can breathe again. As harsh as it might be, I’m glad we left without further confrontation, but hate that this has most likely caused a rift between Elijah and his father. I hate that this whole thing happened because of me. I couldn’t imagine my father not liking Elijah or anyone else who is important to me. There’s a hole of sadness in my chest for Elijah, and even for his father, who will always be bitter and unhappy until he lets go of the past.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, more so because I feel bad for Elijah, but also because this whole night went south and simply because I was there.

  “Don’t you dare apologize. You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me.” Elijah grips the steering wheel like it’s done something wrong.

  “I should have stood up for you more. Hell, I shouldn’t have even brought you in the first place. It was fucking stupid of me. I actually thought I could show my dad how happy we are. I thought that if he sees us together he would finally realize that not all women are like my mom. Obviously fucking not, and the worst part is that he ended up hurting you. Fuck!” He slams his hand against the side of the steering wheel.

  “I should have fucking known better.”

  Reaching for him without thinking, I place my hand on his thigh. The need to console him overpowering.

  “It’s not your fault either. You didn’t ask for your mom to leave and you definitely didn’t ask for your dad to grow bitter and cold because of it.” Elijah’s thigh tenses beneath my hand, but I continue, “He can think whatever he wants to think about me. The only thing that matters is what you think.”

  Instantly Elijah’s mood does a one-eighty, his eyes turning almost somber. “You don’t think I actually believe him, do you?”

  “I don’t, but he’s your father, and it’s obvious he doesn’t support our relationship. I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to end our relationship somehow.”

  “What do you mean?” he asks, voice hard.

  I shrug. “I don’t know. I just wouldn’t be surprised if he does something to try and break us up. He doesn’t approve of you being with anyone, and I have to admit it has me wondering if your fear of commitment, of relationships stems from your father.”

  He scowls, his eyes darkening. “I’m fucked up, Sunflower. I can’t commit and half of the time, I question myself, but trust me, it’s not because of my father. He doesn’t help matters, obviously, but it’s not all on him.”

  Pulling back, I shift in my seat. “I’m sorry for assuming, but it definitely looks like he has done more damage than good.”

  I try not to take my anger toward his father out on him, but it’s hard because when I look at Elijah, I see a man molded by his father’s mistakes and past. I don’t want him to give up on me because of it. We have come so far, I don’t know what I would do if I’d lose him now over this.

  “Look, can we not fight? I don’t want to fight with you, especially not over my father. He has nothing to do with us. I want you, you want me, and that’s all that matters. Nothing he ever says will change that. Never, you’re it for me.”

  I soften instantly, because the last thing I want is to fight and how could I, when he says things like that.

  “No fighting. You’re right, it’s you and me, we are all that matters.” I grab his hand, squeezing it tightly. “You’re nothing like your father, and I want you to know that I know that. You’re a pure gentleman, Elijah, and I’m so damn glad to have you in my life.”

  He shoots a smile my way, and I wonder if it can get any better than this? Maybe happily ever afters do exist? Maybe he was always right, maybe we could have our cake and eat it too?

  14

  Elijah

  As soon as we cross the threshold of the apartment and I close the door behind us, turning the lock into place before I pounce on her. Tonight I’m going to take my time, sip her body like it’s a fine wine. I’m going to show her what it feels like to be in love with her. I will take her nice and slow, savoring every second, like I should have done our first night together.

  Gripping the hem of her dress, I tug it upward, earning a delightful squeal. She doesn’t stop me, in fact, she helps, lifting her arms so I can pull it up and off of her. I toss the fabric to the floor and let my gaze sweep over her. Perfect, absolute fucking perfection.

  She looks up at me with doe eyes, so soft, and delicate, and doll-like. If my cock wasn’t already hard, it would be now. Reaching out, I cup her by the cheek, and lean in, pressing my lips to hers. The kiss isn’t anything like we’ve shared before. It’s passionate, gentle, slow. My heart rate buzzes in my ears, my lungs burn with the need for oxygen, while I continue kissing her.

  Pulling away, I start to pepper kisses across her jaw and down her throat, her pulse jumping as my lips skim against it.

  “I want you,” she whines and with little effort, I shove the straps on her bra down her shoulders, my fingers trailing over her creamy, smooth skin.

  “Soon, Sunflower, tonight I’m savoring you.” I bend down and pick her up, my hands palming her plump ass cheeks. I bring her to my chest and carry her into the bedroom, placing her down on the bed. Someday I’ll claim every hole in her body as mine, but tonight I’m just going to focus on giving her pleasure, making her feel what I feel inside.

  “I’m going to kiss every inch of your beautiful body,” I say, leaning over and planting a soft kiss to her stomach.

  “I’m going to caress every part of you.” I place my index finger on her collarbone and drag it over her shoulder and down her arm, watching as she shivers beneath my touch.

  “I’m going to love every curve.” I let my fingers travel down her ribs a
nd all the way down to her hips.

  “I won’t leave any part of you untouched. I want to worship your body, make certain that you feel how much I love you. Actions speak louder than words, and I’m going to show you just how loud my love for you roars.”

  “You don’t have to go slow. I know how much you love me.” Her eyes gleam with lust, and I’ll bet anything the moment I sink my fingers into her cunt I’ll find her soaked, dripping with need.

  “It’s not about having to, it’s about wanting to, needing it,” I tell her while moving ever so slowly. Dipping my fingers into the waistband of her panties, I pull them down her legs, tossing them over my shoulder. Then I nudge her legs apart and drop down to my knees on the floor. Bailey moves against the bedsheets, pushing up onto her elbows so she can see what I’m doing, and I won’t lie, it’s hot as fuck that she wants to see me touch her.

  Skimming a finger over her glistening folds, I listen as she sucks air deeply into her lungs. My finger moves gingerly down her slit, and to her entrance. I dip just the tip of it inside, holding it there while moving to press my face against her pussy.

  I inhale deeply, wanting to embed her scent deep into my mind. There is nothing like this woman, nothing in the world. With my nose, I nudge between her slit, rubbing against that tight bundle of nerves there. Her legs part farther, beckoning me onward.

  “Elijah… you’re killing me,” she pants above me before reaching out and tangling her fingers into my hair, the feeling unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

  “Mmm…” I mumble against her clit, my tongue darting out and flicking against the little bead. Pushing my finger deeper into her channel, I relish in the tightness, in the wetness that coats the thick digit.

  She’s so fucking responsive, like an instrument that I was made to play.

  “God…” She hooks one of her legs over my shoulder and presses her heel into my back, nudging me closer. I would laugh if my mouth wasn’t so busy, but since it is, I start to pump in and out of her with shallow thrusts.