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

by Brittany Taylor

  I swipe the green button and wedge my phone between my cheek and my shoulder as I quickly tiptoe across the concrete dividing Dallas’ house from mine. “Hey, Liam,” I whisper into my phone. It’s odd for him to be calling me this early in the morning. “Is everything okay?”

  “Hey,” Liam says. “Why are you whispering?”

  His voice startles me even though I’m the one who answered his call. It clashes with the quietness blanketing my neighborhood. When I reach the door, I fumble with my keys, searching for the right one.

  I scoff, finding him amusing. “Why are you calling me so early?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  “Remember what?” I’m still whispering even though I’m finally inside my house. I lock the door behind me and quickly bound up the stairs. I immediately regret it. My legs ache, and the space between my thighs burns.

  “Mark and I are driving out to see his mom. She’s getting surgery this morning.”

  I smack my palm across my forehead and wince. I’m a shit sister. Guilt eats away at me. “Oh my god, Liam. I’m sorry I forgot.” I’ve met Mark’s mother once before. Although I’ve only met her that one time, I know she’s an amazing woman. According to what I’ve heard from Mark and Liam, her ovarian cancer has spread, and the doctor suggested she get surgery to remove all of it, including her ovaries.

  “Yeah, you asked me to call you once I was about to hit the road.” He pauses. “So here I am.”

  “I’m really sorry.” I sit on the edge of my bed and lean forward. I press both of my elbows into my thighs and look down at my feet.

  “It’s okay.” Liam sighs into the phone. “You still didn’t answer my question though—why were you whispering?”

  I sit up and throw myself back on my bed. I badly want to take a shower, soaking my lady bits in some hot water. They are in delicious pain, and with the way Dallas and I spent our night, we’re likely to do the same today.

  I’m staring at my ceiling fan, deciding whether I want to tell my brother about Dallas or not. Part of me wants to keep him a secret, but another part of me wants to talk to someone about it. I know I can’t talk to Vada about it because she’s Dallas’ sister. I need to tread lightly around that topic with her, but as far as my brother is concerned, he has no stake in the game. No harm, no foul.

  “I was over at my neighbor’s house.”

  “Which neighbor?” Liam asks, but then he gasps, quickly realizing I’ve only ever spoken about one neighbor in particular. “Wait, you mean your extremely hot neighbor across the street? The same one who happens to be your boss?”

  I cringe, biting down on my bottom lip. “Yes.”

  “Wait a minute,” he says excitedly. “Normally, this wouldn’t be a big deal, but not only did you tell me you thought he was an asshole, you’re also sneaking out of his house at four in the morning? Spill.”

  “Liam…” I sigh, rubbing my forehead with my fingertips. “Can we talk about this later? I really need to get some sleep.”

  “Why is that, Sloan? What did you do over at his house that kept you up all night?”

  I roll my eyes and turn on my side, still unsure whether it’s a good idea to tell Liam or not. His reaction is proof enough that maybe now isn’t the best time, especially considering the situation his mother-in-law is in.

  “Don’t worry about it. We can talk about this later after your visit with Mark’s mother. I don’t want to distract you when you should be with family.”

  “Stop. Mark’s filling the car up with gas and grabbing us a few snacks for the road, so I have some time. Plus, it’ll be a nice distraction.”

  I lay my arm out beside me and turn my head to the side, looking out the window facing Dallas’ house. All the lights are still off, his house blanketed by the night sky. A small sliver of orange and purple begins to peek out from behind the tip of his house. Morning is starting to break, and if I don’t get sleep now, I’m going to be a zombie the rest of the day.

  “I’ll try to give you the CliffsNotes version since I haven’t slept much and I have work tomorrow. Remember the other night when I went out with Vada?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well…” I sigh. “I took a picture of myself in this super sexy dress I bought after Cole and I broke off our engagement, and since you and I had that conversation earlier in the day, I thought I’d send it to you as proof that I was actually going out and living my life.”

  “I never got a picture of you.”

  I grab one of my pillows and pull it against me, thinking back to the other night. “You didn’t because I never sent it to you. I sent it to Dallas on accident.”

  “No shit.”

  “Yeah. Anyway, since Dallas recognized where I’d taken the picture, he showed up at the club we were at and ran into me in the hallway, asking why I had sent him the picture.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Um…” I rest my head on the pillow and keep my stare out at Dallas’ house. It’s slowly being swallowed up by the sunlight, but I have yet to see him leave to go on his morning run. “He didn’t really give me the chance to explain it to him before he kissed me.”

  “They didn’t have any hazelnut-flavored coffee, so I had to get you vanilla.” Mark’s voice cuts off our conversation.

  “That’s okay,” Liam says. “I’m just on the phone with Sloan. I should be finished in a couple minutes.”

  “Actually,” I tell him, “I really should go. There are a few things I need to do around the house. Text me when you get there so I know you made it safe.”

  “Fine.” Liam groans. He’s slightly upset I’m ending our conversation, but I can tell he knows I don’t exactly feel like getting into it right now. I’m still trying to make sense of it myself. “Wait, I meant to ask you—Mark got a promotion at work and we are wanting to throw a small party together with his family. We’re hoping his mom will be well enough by then, and I would love it if you could make it.”

  I wince, the thought of going back to Minnesota causing my stomach to flip upside down. “I don’t know, Liam. I’m not sure I’m ready to handle that and everything that comes with it yet.”

  “Sloan, please,” he begs. “Mark and I would love it if you were here. It just won’t be the same without you, and I promise you won’t run into anyone. You’ll just be here for us.”

  I reach my arm up and rest the heel of my hand on my forehead. Going back to Minnesota automatically brings the risk of running into Cole and Brenna, even if I try hard to avoid it. Everyone knows everyone in the town we’re from, and people like to gossip.

  But my love for my brother and brother-in-law mean more to me than the prospect of running into the two people I despise the most.

  “Okay.” I groan. “I’ll go.”

  “Thank you. Oh my gosh, it’ll be so good to see you.” Liam gushes. “I have to go, but I’ll send you some info on some flights so you can book it.”

  “Sounds good.” I sigh again. “I love you, Liam. Let Mark know I’ll be thinking of him and his mom.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Liam ends the call before I even have the chance to pull my phone away from my face.

  I toss it beside me and roll to my side. I can still see Dallas’ house now that the sun has risen more in the past ten minutes. There’s no sign of movement, and I start to wonder if leaving so soon was the right thing to do. I know the rules of our arrangement, but I don’t know the specifics, like how long I’m supposed to stay afterward or if I’m allowed to wrap my body around his when we fall asleep. Instinct wanted me to; rules kept me from testing the stability of that line.

  My head fills with too many thoughts for my sleep-deprived brain to keep up with. My eyes start to feel like two heavy weights, fighting to stay open. Then, the sun rising behind Dallas’ house is the last thing I see before they finally give up on their fight.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Bright flashes of yellow and orange wake me a few hours later. I crac
k my eyes open, afraid if I open them too wide, I might suffer permanent damage. That’s the thing about the sun—it feels as if it’s suddenly ten times bigger than in the north.

  I groan as I sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Before I can think of anything else to do, I head toward my bathroom and warm the shower.

  I take my time, allowing the water to wash over me. Each drop that hits my skin soothes every inch of the places Dallas touched. I stand under the stream, remembering all the places he touched as if they’re permanently etched into my skin. I start to imagine what it would feel like to have him in the shower with me, how the peaks and valleys of his abs would feel under the scorching hot water, how my fingers would trace the lines of his hip bones and how they dip into a perfect V.

  Imagining him here heats my center, and I know I’m already wet between my legs—and not from the shower. If a simple thought of Dallas does this to me, I’m not sure how long I can go without seeing him again.

  For now, I’ll have to make do. I keep thinking about his hands as I slide my fingers across my lower belly, touching the same place where he orgasmed on me. Then I trail them farther down until I slide them between my folds, finding my center. I circle my fingers under the hot water, remembering Dallas’ tongue lapping against me. My legs were wrapped around his neck, his large hands gripping my soft flesh to keep me pressed against his mouth. Small bursts break out across my legs as I rock against my own hand. I rest my head against the shower wall, wishing his mouth were on me right now, his lips pressed against my hot skin. I move my fingers faster in smaller, more concentrated circles until my legs begin to quiver. I keep my hand moving as I ride out my orgasm.

  It isn’t nearly as satisfying as the ones Dallas gave me last night.

  Once I step out of the shower, I wrap a towel around my chest and walk past the window facing Dallas’ house. His motorcycle is no longer sitting in the driveway. He must have left after I hopped into the shower.

  I sit on the edge of my bed and run my hand over my blanket, fishing for where I tossed my phone earlier after I hung up with Liam. When I find it, I swipe the screen to unlock it, finding two text messages in my inbox. Neither are from Dallas.

  One is from Liam. The other is from Colton.

  I quickly read Liam’s text, knowing it’s probably just an update on where he is on his trip out to his mother-in-law’s. After sending him a short reply, I open my text from Colton. I have yet to receive one from him since most of my work-related conversations are either through Dallas or Vada.

  Colton: Hey, I know your schedule says you aren’t supposed to come in today, but would you mind coming in for a bit before we open? Maybe around 2? I’d like to talk to you more about our live music night.

  A few minutes later, he sent a second one.

  Colton: Oh, and I’m having my friend come by too so you guys can meet. He’s the one that’ll be playing the guitar.

  I tap my finger on the side of my phone and stare at Colton’s text while I think of how to respond. I’d nearly forgotten about my deal to sing up on stage, and now I’m wondering if this will complicate things with Dallas.

  Dallas doesn’t yet know that I’m the one who Colton hired to perform on stage, filling the position he still refuses to fill. I don’t know how he’s going to take it when he finds out, but I figure I’ll leave that part to Colton.

  Then again, according to both our rules, it doesn’t matter what we do in our personal lives. Maybe Dallas won’t care at all.

  After taking care of a few more things around the house, I get dressed and head out to meet Colton at the bar. When I pull up, I already see his car parked out front. Beside it is a large lime green truck. The fucking thing is obnoxious, clearly screaming for attention. I thought Dallas’ truck was bad enough, but his doesn’t hold a candle to this one. It’s true what Dallas said that day—nearly everyone in Texas owns a truck. I’ve never seen it parked here before, and I assume it must belong to the guitar player Colton is having me meet.

  The bar is quiet when I walk inside except for the two voices I hear coming from the far end of the bar. Each of the metal chairs is still turned upside down on the tables scattered throughout the dining room. Music is subtly playing overhead in the background.

  “Oh, Sloan. There you are.” Colton stands and walks toward me with a large grin. It’s probably the largest grin I’ve ever seen on him.

  “Sorry if I’m a little late.” I’m not late at all. The lie falls from my mouth faster than I realize why I’ve said it. I’m unexpectedly nervous. Regret ebbs its way into my chest, tugging and pulling its way up my throat.

  “You’re not late,” he assures me, nodding his head behind him to the man still sitting at the bar.

  He’s resting his head in the palm of his hand as he looks down at the open binder in front of him. He looks vaguely familiar as I get closer to him, and when he looks up, I know exactly who he is. His dark hair dips across his tan skin, and the fabric of his baby blue button-down shirt is pressed to near perfection. His brown eyes spark when he sees me.

  Shit.

  “Sloan, this is my classmate, Gareth.” Colton introduces him with a grin.

  I narrow my eyes and attempt a small grin. “I’ve seen you in here a few times.”

  It’s not that I don’t like Gareth. He seems nice enough, but his multiple attempts at asking me out haven’t gone unnoticed. The man is relentless, and now I find myself questioning his true motives for being here today.

  “It’s true.” He laughs me off. There is no denying this man drips with arrogance. “I do enjoy coming in here from time to time.”

  “I didn’t know you and Colton went to school together.”

  “We were in a few graduate classes together last semester,” Colton explains. He sits back in his chair and turns toward me.

  “Oh. Nice.” I sit down in the stool beside him, using him as a buffer between me and Gareth.

  “Yeah.” Gareth nods. “I’m working on my master’s in statistics.”

  “Studying statistics, huh?” I say. “I never would have pegged you as a guitar-playing kind of guy.”

  He shrugs. “Well, you never can tell, can you?”

  “I guess not.” My eyes move to the open binder sitting in front of him. “Is that the binder you talked about before? The one with the cover songs?”

  He nods once. “It is.”

  “I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to look yet.”

  “It’s okay. I get it.” Colton sighs, leaning forward to pick up the binder. He places it in front of me and flips through a few pages. “I was looking through them to see if there were any good ones. I wasn’t entirely sure what you felt comfortable singing, so it’s up to you whether you want to look at them or not.”

  I give Colton a reassuring smile. His tired eyes are visible behind his thick-rimmed glasses, but I can tell he’s relieved we’re finally getting this started.

  Apparently with Gareth playing guitar.

  “I’ll take a look,” I tell him, sliding the binder across the counter, pulling it in front of me.

  “Cool,” Colton says. “Do you guys want to try one out right now?”

  I trade glances between Gareth and Colton. I can’t explain it. Something feels off, but I take it as a sign that it’s just been a while since the last time I sang.

  Singing is a small part of me, a talent I never envisioned using. If I did, it was only to sing to my students, but this is on an entirely different level.

  I swallow back the nerves, Liam’s words playing in the back of my mind. I’ve been building a new life here in Austin, and the pieces are starting to come together. The house my mother left me. Working here at Dallas’ bar for the summer. My arrangement with Dallas. And now, singing on stage to hundreds of people.

  “Count me in.” Gareth’s voice pulls my attention toward him. “I’ll go grab my guitar.” He pops out of his chair and jogs to his obnoxious truck parked out front, moving so quickly he’s back w
ithin a few seconds.

  When Gareth comes back, Colton stands up. “I’ll be back in the kitchen working on some prep for tonight.”

  “Great.” Gareth beams beside me.

  Yep, this is going to be great.

  We haven’t played a single song from the binder like Colton suggested.

  That said, Gareth is way more talented than I initially gave him credit for. As they say, you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, and as far as Gareth is concerned, I absolutely did judge him.

  But along with Gareth’s talent comes his arrogance. For the past thirty minutes, all he’s done is play a few songs with no lyrics, never once cracking open the binder to see what we could work on. I feel like I’m sitting in the audience, watching someone perform at an open mic night.

  Every time I’ve attempted to open the binder, Gareth cuts me off by changing the subject. His fingers strum across the strings, serving as background noise to his endless talking.

  “I started playing when I was five,” he says. He strums another chord. “My mom insisted I take as many extracurricular activities as I could, said they would look great on my college resume. Can you believe it?” He scoffs, strumming another chord. “As if a five-year-old is thinking about their college resume. Am I right?”

  “Right.” I nod, trying as hard as I can not to roll my eyes.

  His phone rings inside his pocket. Finally, he stops long enough to reach inside his khaki shorts to answer it. He reads the screen then looks up at me with apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry. I have to take this. I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay.”

  He sets his guitar on the stand then heads toward the back hallway near the restrooms.

  I sigh then turn my attention back to the binder in front of me. In truth, none of the songs look too appealing. Unless Gareth has actual songs written and prepared, I don’t know what we’re going to do.

  I shut the binder and think about Colton. I don’t want to disappoint him.