The Rules of Heartbreak: An Enemies-to-Lovers/Next-Door Neighbor Romance (The Heartbreak Series Book 1)

by Brittany Taylor

  It’s not to say I’m not flattered, but there is no interest in Gareth whatsoever. Possibly as friends, definitely not in the way he wants with how he’s looking at me right now.

  I glance over at Dallas long enough to see him mulling over Gareth’s answer. The storm is brewing behind his eyes, and the corner of his smooth lips curves up as it always does when he’s deep in thought. I try not to think about how those lips were all over my neck less than twenty-four hours ago.

  The tension between the three of us is palpable. I can’t quite figure out Dallas’ expression, but the feeling it gives me is enough for me to walk away. I am far too busy to try to discern Dallas’ relationship with Gareth.

  “I’ll be right back.” I’m a coward. I don’t know where I intend on going. After making Gareth’s whiskey sour, I took a quick inventory of all the customers sitting at the bar that needed a refill. They’re all set. No one needs a drink, and Vada is too busy to notice me walking away. If anyone needs anything, they can ask Dallas.

  I walk through the kitchen and push my way through the back door. The warm, sticky summer air slams against my skin. I breathe in and tip my head up to the sky. The city lights are too bright for me to make out the stars against the black backdrop, but it’s still a beautiful night.

  “What are you doing?”

  Dallas steps out of the back door and moves to stand in front of me.

  “I just needed a minute. I’ve been working non-stop for the past three hours.”

  “You can’t just walk out in the middle of a rush.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I rest my hands on my hips and stare daggers into Dallas. It isn’t because he is accusing me of walking out in the middle of a rush. It’s because he’s a hypocrite. “You’re the one who didn’t show up until fifteen minutes ago.”

  He quickly moves closer to me, closing the space between us. His boots hit the pavement. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I had something important to take care of.”

  “You’re right. It isn’t any of my business, and I honestly don’t care where you were—but it does bother me when Vada and I are struggling to keep our heads above water.”

  His blue eyes are a deep shade of black since we’re standing outside. The way the colors swirl and the intensity behind them is enough to take my breath away. I try not to let Dallas know how he’s affected me, but I fail miserably.

  “I’m sorry if you felt like you and Vada were drowning without my help, but I do have to ask you one thing.” His hand touches the bottom of my stomach, inching its way under the hem of my tank top. I’m wearing an open flannel shirt over a black tank, Dallas’ logo printed in the top corner. His eyes fall to it, but his fingers keep moving.

  I can already feel myself start to become wet from his touch. My attraction to Dallas is a contradiction. Part of me wants to give in, but the other part of me wants to push him away. If I know anything about Dallas, it’s that he hates when he can’t get what he wants. But when it becomes a battle between my head and my vagina, I know my head doesn’t stand a chance around him, especially not after last night.

  I’d been touched by Dallas, and I have a feeling he doesn’t intend on letting me forget it.

  “Ask away,” I say, challenging him.

  He smirks as if he knows he’s already won. His eyes shift to my mouth and watch as I slide my tongue out and swipe it across my bottom lip.

  “How long after I left did it take you to stop thinking about the way my fingers touched you here?” His fingers hook onto the edge of my shorts, pulling me toward him. My body presses against him and I gasp as he leans down, bringing his mouth close to mine. “Or maybe you didn’t forget. Maybe you haven’t stopped thinking about it since.”

  “What makes you so sure I enjoyed it that much?” I’ve brought my mouth closer to his, standing on the tips of my toes. My calf muscles ache as I attempt to stand taller against his large, towering frame.

  Chills prickle down the back of my neck when he brings his mouth to the hollow of my ear the same way he did last night. “Because in all the time I’ve spent with you, I’ve never heard you make that sound before or seen your body move the way it did against my hand.”

  My chest flutters against the words spilling out of him. Dallas definitely knows how to push my buttons. He infuriates me. He is secretive, arrogant, and, for the most part, doesn’t care if I’m struggling to keep up at work.

  But his lack of care is also what keeps me wanting more. I like that Dallas doesn’t care whether he pushes me over the edge or not. As he said last night, he isn’t looking for a relationship, and this only confirms his confession.

  My heart beats against my ribs, thrashing as it tries to decide what feeling to focus on more, the way Dallas’ hand continues to move farther south or the way his lips ghost across mine. I lean forward, hoping he’ll press his mouth to mine, but he doesn’t. Heat spreads across my legs, and my body nearly begs for him to keep going. The truth is, I did enjoy last night. Even if it was brief and we were practically hiding in the shadows in the back of the hallway, I wanted it. I imagine what it would feel like to have more than Dallas’ hands on mine.

  I tip my chin up higher, ready to take whatever he’s willing to give me, but I’m left highly disappointed when he quickly steps backward. I immediately feel the absence of him. I’ve quickly learned he has a knack for teasing me right up until the point where I’m about to completely give in, only for him to pull away.

  “You should get back to work.” His words are stiff, full of resignation to the situation we’re in.

  I immediately cross my arms over my chest, shame pricking its way into my chest. I’ve let Dallas reel me in again, the same way he did last night, only tonight was worse.

  I’m ready to walk back into the restaurant and lose myself in work. I know Vada is most likely pissed that Dallas and I disappeared on her, especially during the busiest part of the shift.

  Dallas stays ahead of me as he heads toward the door leading back into the kitchen.

  I’m ready for this to be the last time I hear from him for the rest of the night. I’m also ready to give myself more time to get over the way it felt to have his hands on me and his mouth claiming mine.

  But I stop when his voice cuts through the warm, midsummer night air. He turns his head only long enough to deliver me an order over his shoulder. “Meet me at my house tonight after work.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  By the time I pull into my driveway, Sloan is already waiting outside my house.

  She’s standing against the wall near my front door, scrolling through her phone. The bright blue light shines onto her face, highlighting it in the darkness. Her ankles are crossed, leaving her perfectly smooth long legs on display. My dick almost hardens at the sight of them, remembering what it felt like to have my hand between them.

  Last night was completely unexpected. I knew showing up at the club where Sloan and Vada were at was taking a risk. I didn’t want Vada to see me and wonder why I had shown up there in the first place, but I was in luck when I walked in at the exact moment Sloan was headed toward the restrooms.

  Whether or not she sent me the picture of herself on accident doesn’t really matter to me. I only took it as a challenge considering the way she had looked at me the last time I had seen her leaving my house with my sister. The way the neon lights on the street reflected off her brown hair popped against the bright red color of her dress. Fucking hell, I’d never seen a woman look the way she did standing there on Sixth Street. She was even more gorgeous as she stood in front of me in the shadows of the hallway we were in. The picture truly didn’t do her justice.

  I step off my motorcycle and set my helmet on my seat. When Sloan notices me walking toward her, she pushes off the wall and tucks her phone into her pocket. She’s still wearing the same clothes she had on when she left work: cutoff shorts and her black tank top covered by a flannel shirt, rolled at the sleeves.

  I dig my keys o
ut of the pocket of my jeans and pass by her to unlock the front door. I don’t say a word, and neither does she. It isn’t an awkward silence. Up until tonight, I’ve obviously never invited Sloan to my house before. She knows something between us has shifted. How could she not?

  Both of us stay silent until we step through the front door and make our way deeper into the living room.

  “This is beautiful.” She points to the piano I have set up in the corner of the room. The moonlight pouring in through the windows surrounding us reflects off the shiny coating.

  She taps her fingers along the edge before she presses a few keys. None of the notes she plays go together or make a tune, but she doesn’t care. Neither do I.

  “I’ve had that piano for a while now,” I explain. “Since I was in college.”

  “I didn’t know you could play. I thought you only knew how to play guitar.”

  I shake my head and walk closer to her. She turns to where her back is to the piano and tips her chin higher to look up at me. This is quickly becoming my favorite view of her. Her eyes always shift in a way that causes my heart to beat against my chest a little harder, and my thoughts seem to go cloudy. Her bright blue eyes flicker with green, and her mouth subtly twists as if she’s trying to read me. She’s attempting to figure me out. It only makes me want her more.

  When I take another step closer, her chest deflates with an audible gasp. She both relaxes and tenses at the same time, and my dick twitches with excitement.

  She leans back against the piano, pressing her round ass into the keys. The chord she strikes sounds awful, but it doesn’t matter. It bounces off the walls around us, mixing in with our bated breaths.

  “There’s only one regret I have from last night.” I decide to start tonight with a small confession. Seeing Sloan here in my living room only resolidifies the arrangement I have in mind for us.

  She holds her breath as her eyes search mine, unsure of where our conversation is headed. Then again, I’m not sure what she thought it meant when I invited her here tonight. She lifts her hand and grasps the front of my shirt with her slender fingers, clutching the fabric in her fist.

  “What regret would that be?”

  I lean forward, gripping the piano at her sides. My mouth is dangerously close to hers.

  She opens her legs, allowing me to stand between them. She clenches her thighs around me when my hardened cock presses into her center. There’s entirely too much fabric between us. I hope it isn’t long before we can rectify this small inconvenience. She keeps me close by wrapping her legs around mine with her calves pressing into the back of my knees.

  I take a deep breath and tilt my head, lowering my face closer to hers. “I regret that my hand was the only thing to have the privilege of touching you.”

  She gasps.

  I slide my hand down to the button of her shorts, popping it open with a quick turn of my fingers. “It’s a shame we were in a public place.” After undoing her button, I open the small zipper before sliding my hand inside the opening.

  She gasps again. The fabric of my shirt twists between her fingers as she pulls me even closer, but I can’t let her go any further until I’ve told her my intentions. I need to make it clear that we can’t be any more than we are now.

  “I need to ask you something.” She surprises me when her voice cuts through our heavy breaths, delaying me from being able to tell her what’s been on my mind. I narrow my eyes as I stare at her, waiting to hear her question.

  “Go ahead,” I tell her. “But make it quick.” I curl the corner of my mouth and press my hips into her center, letting her know exactly how I’m feeling. My hardened cock presses into her, and I can’t help but notice how her mouth slightly twitches the second I push against her.

  She swallows as she evidently struggles to keep with her train of thought. At this rate, she might not make it to the end of her sentence without coming first. “Last night you mentioned something about not wanting a relationship, and I need to make sure that’s what you want.”

  “I did,” I tell her, ghosting my lips along hers. “Are you sure this is what you want?” I’m fucking thankful she’s thinking the exact same thing I am right now. I slide my fingers farther into her shorts and tease them along the front of her underwear. Her hips start to move against me like they did last night. I’m hoping we can finish this little deal of ours quickly so we can move on to what we both truly want.

  “Nothing’s changed in the past twenty-four hours, Dallas. My rules are still my rules.”

  “Good.” I swallow the excitement coursing through me, knowing there are only two more points I need to confirm with Sloan before we can keep going. “You have your rules, and I have mine.”

  She immediately shifts her eyes up to mine, gazing at me with hooded eyes. She keeps a fistful of my shirt in one hand but starts to slide the other around the waist of my jeans. She scrapes her long nails across my skin, causing a tingling sensation to shoot down my spine.

  I don’t know Sloan’s past as far as relationships or love are concerned, or what brought her to the decision to handle sex the same way I have. I can sense it in her urgency. I can feel it in the way her body moves against me, begging to be touched. Although the curiosity of why Sloan is the way she is lingers in the back of my brain, I push the thought aside, burying it behind my desire to be inside her. My hand simply won’t do tonight as it did last night. We need to take this one step further.

  A part of me wants to say fuck it and forget the rules I want to put between us. I know I don’t want anything more than sex right now, but shit, Sloan is making it increasingly difficult to stick to the plan I have laid out for tonight.

  “What rules would those be?” she asks.

  I move my fingers down the front of her underwear until I’ve reached her center. She’s already soaked through the thin mesh fabric.

  I smirk. “You’re already fucking wet for me, so I’ll only say them once.”

  Her eyelids flutter before closing. She tips her head back and slowly swipes her tongue across her lips.

  “Open your eyes,” I command. “Keep them on me.”

  Her eyes slowly open with my order. At first, they open wide, as if she’s challenging me again, but as I move my fingers faster along her wet center, she relaxes into me. Her eyes soften as her hips rock against me, moving in rhythm with my fingers.

  “Rule number one,” I tell her. “We keep this strictly about sex. Nothing more, nothing less. And we don’t talk about it at work.”

  She bites down on her bottom lip then pops it out from under her teeth. “Agreed.” The word is spoken on a heavy sigh as she tilts her head into my other hand resting on her cheek.

  “Rule number two.” I stop moving my fingers and remove my hand from between her legs. Disappointment immediately takes over her expression. I grip her jaw with my fingertips, being sure not to be too rough with her but strong enough to let her know this is the most important rule. Her eyes are laser focused on mine as I press the pad of my thumb into her bottom lip. “You don’t ask me about my past. Ever.”

  Her eyes shift between mine as she understands what I mean. Her neck dips as she swallows, digesting my words. In a way, I guess my rule could come across as selfish. I know more about Sloan than I realize, and considering the game we played when we went to the furniture store, it seems contradictory to be telling her this. It’s a game I willingly played, even sharing the details of how my mother ran away with me and Vada before it was even legal for her to drink.

  I still haven’t moved my hand, returning it to her warm center. Instead, we’re both frozen, allowing my unwritten rules to toss around between us. She considers me for a moment, and every thought is clearly written in her expression. She’s wondering how tragic my past must be for me to give a rule such as this one, but some things are better left unsaid. Sloan doesn’t need to know, just as much as I don’t need to know hers. I know there’s more to her past than her lack of relationship with E
llie. Sloan’s scars aren’t well hidden. Instead, she attempts to hide her pain behind her urge to change the interior of her house and busying herself at my restaurant.

  As tempting as it might be to ask her, I won’t. I may want to keep whatever this is between us strictly down to sex, but I’m not a hypocrite.

  “Do you agree?" I ask her, returning my fingers between her legs.

  “Yes.”

  I take her one-word answer, not wasting another minute. The corner of her mouth curls just before I claim it. I slam my lips against hers, immediately coaxing them open with my tongue. The piano emits an obnoxious tune once again as Sloan shifts her body under mine. Her legs tighten around me, keeping me pressed against her. My hardened cock presses up against her hot, wet center, and I’m wishing I had completely removed her shorts and underwear before reaching our agreement to my rules.

  Her mouth tastes sweet and I breathe in, taking all of Sloan in. Her scent is a mixture of the smoke from our barbecue and her vanilla lip balm. Her soft, supple lips mold to mine as I slide my hands along her thighs, reaching under the ends of her shorts. Her back arches up and her swollen breasts peek out of the top of her tank top. One of her hands reaches up behind my neck. She grabs a fistful of my hair and tugs on the ends, urging me to move downward.

  I try not to waste any more time. I want to savor this feeling, the feeling of Sloan beneath me, her want for me clearly soaking into her underwear, showing me just how ready she is—but I decide not to.

  I bite down on Sloan’s bottom lip before pulling away from her. I lean back far enough for her to get a clear view of my face. She relaxes her legs around mine as I stand, straightening my back. Her ankles still rest on the back of my calves.

  “Don’t move off the piano.” I point to the keys on either side of her. “Put your hands at your sides and lift your ass off the keys.”

  She doesn’t question me and places her hands against the keys beside her. She pushes herself up high enough to where her ass is no longer resting on them. I bend down and slide my hands around her waist to her back. I grab the hem of her shorts and pull them down, making sure to grab her panties as well. Once I’ve gotten her shorts past her full round cheeks, she lowers herself back down onto the piano.