Breaking the Rules: A Brother's Best Friend Romance: The Rules Duet: Book 2 (The Dating Playbook)

by Mariah Dietz

  My attention sweeps to Pax, my stomach falling to my knees. My brother’s poker face is as weak as my right cross, meaning it doesn’t exist. “Pax? What’s going on?”

  He shakes his head, pursing his lips. “There’s a video going ‘round. A video of Dad…”

  My stomach falls, taking my heart with it. “A video? Who’s seen it?”

  Pax shakes his head again, this time faster. “Everyone?”

  “What?” I glance at Poppy, seeking clarification, but her mouth is slack, her face pale. She’s as shocked as me. “We have to go check on Mom.” Guilt licks at my skin like a wave, cold and unforgiving as it pulls me deeper into its tide. If I had told Mom … if I had told Paxton, would this have still happened? Maybe. But at least they wouldn’t have been blindsided by it.

  I feel numb as I follow to Lincoln’s truck. I climb into the backseat without another objection, my childhood and innocence in this situation still back at the party as I glimpse at the video of my dad receiving oral sex from a stranger on Poppy’s phone. Pax warned me not to look. I should have listened. It will be a struggle to look him in the eye ever again.

  “I thought we were going home?” I cry when we pull into Paxton’s driveway.

  “I already texted Mom, and she didn’t respond. It’s after midnight. I’m sure she’s asleep. Sleep this off, and we’ll go over tomorrow.”

  Poppy takes my hand, sensing my anger. Maybe she can feel my body temperature rising. Perhaps it’s because I jackknifed from the seat and am nearly through the middle console, ready to take this to the mat with him. Her grasp is warm and firm, tethering me in place. “I think he’s right. If you guys go in there guns a blazing, it’s just going to make it worse. I’ll go with you tomorrow. I can help in any way, but once the sun is up, your thoughts will be clearer.”

  Maggie has always been reactive. Emotional is the term my parents use. Paxton is laid-back and calm. I can be found somewhere in the middle of the vast void that separates the two, sometimes closer to my sister, and other times closer to my brother, but right now I am channeling Maggie though I’m trying my hardest to be cool like Pax. It causes irrational tears from frustration at myself and the situation to blur my eyes.

  “Okay,” I concede, my throat tight. Poppy looks at me and nods, like she’s agreeing with me or possibly agrees with my sudden sense. Whatever the intention, it sits heavily in my stomach as I follow the others out of the car.

  Paxton’s place is an old seventies house that has had few remodels. The benefit to the house is all the rooms are large, which is why they chose it—that and cheaper rent since they’re fifteen minutes in the opposite direction of the party houses on campus. Even the outside screams of the seventies with the ivory paint and light green trim, a shingled roof, and an enormous picture window in the front. But, as close as Pax and I are, this place is still relatively foreign to me. Maybe if Lincoln didn’t live here, it wouldn’t feel so strange to stop by, but with him here, I seem to have overthought each reason, and they’ve always felt like excuses, keeping my visits minimal.

  Caleb looks up as we come inside. Headphones tangled in his curly, red hair, the kind with a little mouthpiece, a gaming controller in his hand—it’s how I always mentally picture him. “Hey!” he lowers the controller, looking over us before stopping at Pax, his eyebrows lowered. “What’s goin’ on?”

  “Our dad’s having an affair.”

  I thought it would be harder to say.

  It wasn’t.

  20

  Lincoln

  I learned as a kid that when you think shit is bad, it can always get worse, and today has been a reminder of this testament.

  The day began with waking up to Raegan in my kitchen. Her eyes swollen and her cheeks red. I knew she’d been crying, but our tempestuous relationship hadn’t taught me anything regarding how to navigate emotions and feelings like these, which made me feel like an even bigger asshole.

  “Do you want to get some breakfast?” I asked.

  She looked at me then, and I saw it. I saw the look of hope in her gaze that left me paralyzed for a full minute as I scrambled to decipher what that hope represented. It was a moment too long because she stood and walked over to the coffeepot, her back to me like I hadn’t spoken.

  “Rae,” her name sounded like a plea, and even knowing that I didn’t try to change the meaning by adding additional unnecessary words.

  “I saw you last night.” Her words were cut and dry, clearly not looking for an excuse or reason.

  This conversation was likely doomed from the start. I knew she wasn’t the kind of girl to accept a smile as a promise or an orgasm as an apology. I knew that, Arlo reminded me of the fact. Still, I found that girl last night who wasn’t looking to know my past or my future, only a good time, and the ease of it all felt so damn good, I ignored every doubt and question that was ricocheting against my need for independence, and I kissed her.

  I could’ve told Raegan that the other girl meant nothing or tried explaining how I’d drunk three beers in a matter of minutes, so I didn’t follow her. Instead, I chose defense. “From my view, it didn’t look like you had any reason to care.”

  I saw it then, the look of resistance, the one that said she didn’t want to believe me. But in seconds, it was gone, replaced by disappointment and disgust as her nose scrunched, and her eyes turned hard.

  Before I could grapple for words or a second opportunity to start the morning over again, Pax appeared.

  “I just spoke with Mom,” he said, rubbing his thumb and forefingers over his eyes. I’d never seen my friend look so torn down.

  Raegan turned to fully face him, her eyes scouring each detail of Pax, reading him like a map. “What happened?”

  “She said she was sorry, but she needed to get away. Hell, I don’t blame her. I have no idea how long this has been going on or if he’s going to lose his job, or what this might do to her?” He rubs a hand down his face. “She was at the airport, boarding a flight to go stay with Aunt Kayla in New York for a little while.”

  Raegan remained standing in place, but it was clear her thoughts were in a million places all at once.

  “You can stay with me,” Poppy said from behind Pax, where she was hovering by the doorway, unbeknownst to the rest of us. “I’ll talk to my mom.”

  Raegan shook her head, her gaze static. “No. It’s okay.”

  “You can crash here,” Pax offered. “My room is yours for as long as you want it.”

  Arlo stepped into the kitchen then, his eyes round and his face long. Aside from the field, it was the quietest I’d ever seen him. “What can I do?” His gaze skipped across each of us like a stone thrown into the river, landing on Rae. She quickly looked away.

  My chest ached, knowing she was trying to keep it all together, and that I contributed to her undoing.

  “I have class,” she said to no one.

  “Skip it,” Arlo said immediately.

  “I do, too,” Poppy said, stepping farther into the kitchen. “Pax, can I borrow your car?”

  He nodded instantly, realizing Poppy was likely the only one who understood the right steps at that point. It prompted adrenaline to course through me, something that felt too similar to the desire to flee or fight, only I had no desire to run. I wanted to fight. I wanted a chance to break through the invisible chains that kept her stuck in the past.

  “We’ll go to my house. You can borrow some clothes,” Poppy continued. “Are your books in your car? We can stop and get them.”

  “My laptop’s at home.”

  “I’ll get it,” I said before reason could stop me.

  Everyone’s eyes moved to mine—everyone’s but hers.

  “I’ll go with you,” Arlo volunteered. “What else can we get?”

  I could see it, the reality of the situation beginning to swallow her.

  “We can stop there first,” Poppy says. “We’ll get whatever you need.”

  “You can stay here,” Pax offered ag
ain. “We’ll get it all.”

  She didn’t nod, but she also didn’t shake her head. “No. I don’t even know what I need. I have to go.”

  Pax turned to Arlo and me. “You guys don’t have to do this. I don’t know what we’ll be walking in to.”

  I shook my head, dismissing his opportunity to renege. “Let’s go.”

  Raegan and Poppy were still wearing their clothes from last night, Pax was in a pair of shorts and him team sweatshirt, and I was in some sweats. Arlo was the only one dressed, but he hadn’t showered yet. Still, we all left in our various states of disarray, matching the moment.

  I pull up to her parents’ house, checking my rearview mirror to see Pax pull in with Rae and Poppy. I sigh when I don’t see their Dad’s car in the driveway.

  “You think Pax is going to be okay to play Saturday?” Arlo asks.

  Guilt funnels to the already building pool in my gut because apart from the brief window last night after we’d gotten home and I lied in my bed wondering how this would pull their family apart, I haven’t really considered Paxton. “He’ll be good.”

  Arlo nods. “I can’t believe their mom left. Like, what is Rae going to do? She lives at home still.” He runs a hand across his brow. “This is going to be a fucking shit show.”

  Raegan’s the first one out of the car, her moves too normal and casual as she crosses the driveway and unlocks the front door. We follow, weaving through the eerie silence up the stairs and into Raegan’s room, where she starts shuffling through items on her desk, shoving them into a stained backpack.

  “We’ll pack all of your clothes,” Poppy says, placing a hand on Arlo’s shoulder.

  Rae stops, looking over her shoulder at them, a trace of question and objection visible in her eyes. But then she swallows, a look of resignation replacing the doubt.

  Arlo scoops the contents of a drawer and drops it into a large suitcase Poppy opened and left on the bed with the instructions for him to empty the dresser while she piles shoes into a duffel bag.

  “Just grab it all,” Pax says, grabbing a pile Rae hasn’t yet touched, shoving it into the same bag she’s carefully organized.

  I move beside Arlo, grabbing the articles that smell like Raegan. He opens the next drawer, revealing a line of bras and neatly folded underwear. Arlo looks at me. It’s the first time I’ve seen him hesitate at the chance to see a girl’s underwear.

  Then we hear a sound that somehow is louder and more forceful than a building being leveled: the sound of a door closing.

  “Paxton?” The dean’s voice rings through the house. Raegan stalls, her chest falling with a deep breath as tears fill her blue eyes.

  “Keep packing,” Pax says, locking eyes with me. He places a hand on Rae’s shoulder. “Just keep packing,” he says the words softer this time, a silent assurance before he spins and stalks out of the room.

  Raegan stops, though, dropping the contents in her hands before she races toward the door, running so quickly she has to grab the doorjamb to slow herself so she can change directions.

  “What’s she doing?” Arlo asks, but Poppy is running on her heels.

  “Pax is going to lose it!” she says over one shoulder.

  “Shit!” I hiss, sprinting after them with Arlo at my side.

  We stop in the kitchen, where the dean stands in a wrinkled shirt near the fridge. His gaze is tired and weary as he looks at Paxton, who’s on the other side of the island, his face red with anger and hands fisted with aggression. Rae is a pace in front of him, her fingers trying to encircle his wrist.

  “Go pack,” Pax tells her.

  “Paxton,” Dr. Lawson starts.

  “Don’t fucking talk to me,” Paxton yells.

  “It’s not what it looked like.”

  His excuse is like a chemical reaction. Paxton lunges forward. Raegan yells his name, moving surprisingly fast in an attempt to be a buffer, but Arlo grabs her, hauling her back before she gets caught in the crosshairs. Paxton’s fist collides with the dean’s nose, sending him back several steps before he shocks the hell out of me and moves forward, his fist moving faster than my realization, slamming into the right side of Paxton’s face.

  “Stop!” Raegan fights against Arlo, who I think is even more shocked than me. She gets free from his loosened grip and scrambles across the kitchen, but I’m faster. I stand in front of her, unaware of what the dean’s next move will be when the last one left me stupefied.

  “What are you doing?” Raegan yells. “Why would you do this?”

  The dean’s breaths are fast and hard as he stares beyond me at his daughter. He lifts a hand, wiping at the blood starting to trickle from his nose. “Go to your room.”

  I can’t see her reaction, but my hand at her waist confirms she isn’t moving.

  “You don’t get to make demands. Not now,” she says.

  “Upstairs, Raegan. Change your clothes and get to school. I told you to mind your own goddamn business. You don’t get to stand in my kitchen and judge me, especially not when you’re dressed like a hooker.”

  Paxton yells out with rage, a sound undecipherable but one I understand clearly, a sound of bitterness and unjust.

  Rae grabs my right arm, her touch grounding me and bringing awareness that I’ve closed half the distance between Mr. Lawson and my fist.

  “Don’t,” she tells me. “He’s not worth it. He’s not worth your future.”

  Her words do nothing to ease the anger he unleashed. I stalk toward him, recognizing the flash in his eyes that says he wants me to come at him—he wants to fight. I’m sure it’s the alcohol I smell on his breath and the fact his life is crumbling faster than a sandcastle hit by an incoming tide.

  Raegan slinks in front of me, her body pressed impossibly close to mine, leaning into me. Reason tells me it’s to keep her away from her dad, who’s a mere foot from me, but then I wonder if she feels it too, the balances she extends to my thoughts, the ease of how she molds against me so effortlessly—so perfectly. “Lincoln.” She shoves me backward, and I oblige, taking a measured step back. “Get me out of here,” she says. “Please.”

  I stare at her dad, wanting to make him hurt, wanting to make him bleed.

  “Please,” her voice is so soft and quiet, and I know she means the word only for me. She slides her hand down my forearm, and before her touch slips away, I grip her hand.

  “Let’s go,” I say.

  She closes her eyes, relief evident as our fingers weave together. I turn to discover Arlo and Poppy on either side of Pax, his rage still heightened.

  “This wasn’t how it was supposed to go,” the dean says.

  No one responds as Arlo works to shuffle Pax back in the direction of Raegan’s room. The atmosphere has changed, a rushed frenzy as we all shove things into bags with a sudden urgency.

  Poppy starts to close the first suitcase while I look around, questioning what else to pack.

  “Do you have your laptop? Your chargers?” Pax asks.

  Raegan nods, wearing a sweatshirt she hadn’t been when we’d arrived. “I’ve got it all.”

  There’s still a ton of shit in the room, but I think back to my childhood room when I moved into my first apartment freshman year and how it still looked fully lived in.

  “Let’s go,” Poppy says, closing the next suitcase.

  Arlo grabs one bag, and Paxton grabs a second. Poppy grabs a duffle, and Raegan grabs her backpack. I grip the last two bags, one larger and the other a smaller bag that Rae reaches for. I shake her off and look to Arlo, silently requesting for him to lead the way.

  He reads my thoughts, wheeling the suitcase across the wood floor and clearing the doorway, followed by Paxton and Poppy, who holds Raegan’s hand, further proving her devotion to their friendship. “Let’s go.”

  I follow them, making it to the living room before the dean reappears.

  “What are you doing?” he asks, looking at the array of bags.

  “I can’t stay here,” she says.
>
  He reaches for the largest of the two bags I’m carrying, and I drop the smaller one, and shove him back. “You’ve already exceeded my patience,” I warn him. “Get the fuck away from her.”

  He stares in bewilderment before moving his attention to Rae. “It was already broken. Our marriage ended years ago. Things change. We’d become friends—acquaintances,” he says.

  “We weren’t broken,” she tells him. “But we are now.”

  He stares at her for another second, but defeat stops him from saying anything more.

  We get back to the house, and Paxton punches the school bus-yellow box that our weekly newspapers are delivered in. It partially splinters, hanging limply against the wooden post.

  Caleb emerges from the house. “Everything okay?” he asks quietly.

  Raegan shakes her head. “Can you help him?”

  Caleb nods, moving in the direction of Paxton while the rest of us grab bags and head inside.

  “Just leave them here,” Rae says, dropping a bag near the front door. “I’ll figure something out.” She expels a shallow breath. “Do you guys mind if I take a shower?” She stops, her eyes roving across the bags. “I forgot all my bathroom stuff.”

  Poppy shakes her head. “It’s all in the small bag. I’ve got it all. Your hair dryer, makeup, everything.”

  I grab the bag and then the one we shoved the contents of her dresser into. “Come on.” I nod in the direction of the stairs, leading the way up to one of the two full bathrooms in the house.

  “You can leave those in the hall,” she says. “I’ll be out of here tonight.”

  “What?”

  She turns, both hands are woven into her hair. Her eyes show signs of a storm as she looks over each of my features before settling on my eyes.

  “Where are you going?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know yet.”

  “Stay here.”

  “I can’t.”