Forgotten Rules: A Brother's Best Friend Romance

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by Eliah Greenwood


  “He’s okay, I guess. Not my type.”

  “Okay? Okay?” She’s scandalized. “Are you insane? He’s stupid hot, like in a damaged kind of way. I bet you he just needs someone to pierce through that tough exterior of hard muscles and sarcasm.” She releases a devilish smirk. “Hell, if you’re not up for it, I am.”

  “What happened to wanting Sean back?” Morgan points out.

  “He hasn’t called since we broke up. I’m done waiting. Time to start living again.” Zoey shrugs.

  I know I should be happy for her. I’ve been waiting for Zoey to let go of Sean’s toxic ass for ages, but I also know it means she’ll be chasing her next prey soon.

  And in this case… her prey is my brother.

  Or Will.

  Both terrible choices, really.

  The front door opening lures my attention away from Zoey’s not-so-secret agenda. What sounds like an entire classroom stumbles inside my kitchen.

  Laughter, bickering, shuffling.

  There’s no escaping it this time.

  The boys are here.

  “You fucking moron.” His laugh destroys every last shred of hope in my body.

  Blake.

  He’s here.

  Of course he is.

  He just couldn’t sit this one out.

  Kendrick, Blake, and Will materialize in the doorway a heartbeat later. I’m assuming Alex couldn’t make it. Blake stops laughing the second he sees me.

  Refusing to acknowledge his presence, I zero in on the ceiling, the floor, the family pictures crowding the walls—every goddamn thing in the room but the dark-haired guy boring holes through my skull. Somewhere along my weak, desperate attempt to pretend he doesn’t exist, I lock eyes with Will.

  It must last like three seconds, if that.

  Shit, Zoey’s right.

  He is hot.

  And not just in a damaged way.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Kendrick snaps at me. “I told you we need the TV tonight.”

  “Cute, you think I actually listen to you.” I offer him a shit-eating grin, to which he replies by tilting his head to the right and planning my murder. I know my brother, and right now? He’s a mere impulse away from cursing me out. Clenched fists, flaring nostrils—an outburst is imminent.

  That’s when he notices Zoey.

  His fists unwind. “Zoey, hey.”

  “Kendrick. Long time.” She bats her eyelashes at him.

  Ugh.

  “What are you guys up to?” Funny how he asks about us but only speaks to her.

  She twirls a piece of her hair around her index.

  “Watching a movie. Wanna join?”

  “Sure.” Kendrick’s reply is instant.

  Blake’s jaw falls.

  “But we were supposed to watch the ga—”

  Kendrick stares dagger at him. I call it the “Cockblock me and I’ll kill you” look. Blake clamps his mouth shut, gaze straying to the floor. Meanwhile, Will is mentally calling him a pussy—I can tell just from the mocking grin on his face.

  “What are we watching?” Kendrick asks, taking a seat alongside Zoey—no surprise there. Morgan is on Zoey’s left, leaving one last spot between Kendrick and me.

  When I realize Blake and Will are the last two standing, I regret telling my mom a four-seater couch would be enough after Dad left with half the furniture. I notice Blake eying the empty space next to me, and my entire body contracts. He wouldn’t. He dares a step forward, his intentions clear as day, but Will beats him to the punch, filling the seat by my side.

  My pulse drops.

  Thank you, Jesus.

  Irritated, Blake goes for the armchair besides the couch.

  Will and I lock eyes again.

  Only this time, he smirks.

  Like he’s telling me, “You’re welcome.”

  What in the…

  Did he just do that on purpose?

  Does he know something?

  The small leather couch renders personal space a foreign concept to us. I try to make myself as scarce as I possibly can, squeezing my thighs against the armrest and peeking at Will every once in a while.

  He makes himself comfortable, sitting like a typical dude with his legs spread wide. He doesn’t seem to give a flying shit that our bodies are squashed together. The proximity allows me to feel the heat radiating off his skin.

  Holy hell, is he a human oven?

  “You guys down for a horror movie?” Zoey suggests.

  As if we just had the exact same train of thoughts, Will and I scoff. Could they be any more obvious? Kendrick nods in agreement, and Zoey begins scouring Netflix. I’m not big on horror movies, always end up not sleeping for a week afterward although I have to admit, I’m glad the boys didn’t insist on watching the game. I don’t know squat about football.

  I’ll never be the cool girl who impresses guys because of her sports knowledge. I’m the girl who can eat her body weight in food and still be hungry.

  That’s still an impressive skill, right?

  “I’m not watching that. Too scary,” Zoey squeals.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Kendrick replies.

  I wish I’d choke on a popcorn and pass out.

  We’re halfway through the movie when Kendrick circles Zoey’s shoulders and draws her flush into his chest. That’s how I know I’ve reached my daily limit of cringeworthy moments.

  I rise up. “I’m going to make more popcorn.”

  Morgan glances up at me. “But we still have som—”

  I scowl at her, a scowl that she instantly picks up on, as a best friend does, and she smacks her mouth shut.

  “I’ll help.”

  My pulse quickens when Will pushes off the couch, too.

  Crap. He’s following me.

  Now I really have to make popcorn.

  The second we venture into the kitchen, he kicks the door shut and releases a heavy sigh.

  “Jesus. About time. I was dying back there.”

  A laugh slips out of me. Good to know I’m not the only repulsed by the idea of Kendrick and Zoey together. I glance at him over my shoulder, craning my neck to catch a decent shot of his face.

  God, he’s tall.

  How long has he been this tall? Reclining against the kitchen counter, he folds his arms over his chest, staring at me so hard I can feel the weight of his eyes digging into my shoulders as I reach for a water bottle in the fridge.

  “What? You don’t ship it?” I bring the bottle to my lips.

  “For the sake of the female population, Kendrick should only be shipped with his hand.”

  My water goes down the wrong pipe.

  “What’s…” Cough. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m just saying your brother’s not boyfriend material.”

  I cough some more.

  He fights a smile.

  “What? And you are?” I say once I’ve caught my breath.

  He gives himself a push off the counter, stalking toward me. He stops a tad too close, a lock of blond hair dangling before his eyes as he says, “I could be.”

  His eyes flicker with something I don’t recognize. He searches my gaze like I’ve buried the darkest, most troubling secrets inside. Like I’m some shiny new toy he didn’t know he could play with until now.

  The smell of his cologne floats around us. I used to hate Blake’s cologne. Thought it was too strong. But Will’s cologne? I don’t mind it. It’s nice.

  Kass, focus.

  “Please.” I snap back to reality. “You don’t have a boyfriend bone in your body.”

  He sneers. “Because you know so much about me from all the conversations we’ve never had before?”

  He does have a point.

  This is our longest conversation to date.

  He didn’t even bat an eye at my existence before. I have no idea why he’s talking to me now.

  “Well, you don’t have a girlfriend, do you?” I point out.

>   “Oh.” Discomfort colors his features. “I see what this is. Look, Kass, I’m really flattered, but… you’re my best friend’s sister. I think we should keep it PG.”

  My jaw hangs. “What? N-No. That’s not… That’s not what this is, I…”

  Will watches me word vomit for a solid ten seconds before cracking a smile.

  “You’re fucking with me.” I scold myself for falling for it.

  “Took you long enough.”

  Somehow, I’m not surprised when he picks my water right out of my hands.

  “Wow, you are really easy to mess with.” He takes a sip.

  He would know. He’s the king of fucking with people. You know how each school has a funny guy? The prankster, the class clown? Well, Riverside High has William Martins. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, the troublemaker isn’t that hot. He’s popular, yes, because he’s entertaining and endearing in a “Wow, you’re really dumb” kind of way but…

  When he’s got the jokes plus the looks?

  Hook, line, sinker.

  I’ve known girls to catch a crush over one of Will’s flirty jokes.

  “This is going to be fun.” He hands me my now empty water bottle. I can already picture it—him bugging me every time he comes over from now on.

  “Stop acting like we’re friends,” I remind the both of us.

  “Ouch,” he pouts, walking over to the pantry to grab a bag of popcorn and shoving it inside the microwave. He selects three minutes.

  I bite my tongue not to intervene.

  He notices. “What?”

  “That’s way too long.” I saunter to him and press the Reset button. “It’ll burn. Two minutes tops, less if it stops popping.”

  A mocking smile reshapes his lips as I enter the right digits and push Start.

  “Kendrick’s right,” he says after a while. “You are bossy.”

  I’m about to object when the door creaks open.

  Zoey’s head slips into the doorway.

  “Kass, would you be a doll and bring us water, chips, and paper towels while you’re at it?” Before I can gather a response, she tops it off with, “You’re sweet. Thanks,” and strolls back to where she came from.

  A short moment of silence ensues.

  Will fills the void. “Do you always do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Let her boss you around.”

  His question cuts me deeper than expected.

  “What? She doesn’t boss me around. She’s my friend.”

  He cocks an eyebrow.

  “I swear, that’s just how we are. She’d do the same for me.”

  “Whatever you say.” He shrugs, retreating to the living room. “Control freak,” he adds seconds before he’s out the door.

  I can’t suppress a smile.

  I know I told him we’re not friends now.

  But… that doesn’t mean we can never be.

  Kassidy

  “Are you excited for your first day?” I ask Winter, taking an abrupt left that makes my car screech so loudly a lady walking her dog jumps two inches in the air. Glaring at my red car, she guides a hand to her chest. Shameful, I zoom down the street.

  I’m sorry that I’m poor, ma’am.

  I’ve grown quite familiar with that feeling recently—shame. I desperately need to get a job so I can afford to get my clunker of a car fixed. Still no luck. None of the places I applied to called.

  “Excited for it to be over.” My cousin sighs, fidgeting with her clothes. I get it. Being the new girl ranks pretty high on the list of things that suck ass.

  “Oh, come on. Don’t be so dramatic.” I laugh. “You’ll fit right in. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  “Anything I need to know? Any mean girl I should stay away from?” She shifts in my passenger seat.

  “Bianca Reed and her minions,” I’m quick to say. Winter does not want to get in trouble with psycho Bianca. Everybody knows she’s a little… intense. “Definitely don’t give them a reason to hate you.”

  She nods. “Noted.”

  Pulling up into the school’s parking lot, I snatch the first spot I can find and kill the engine.

  I glance at her. “Ready?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “It’s going to be fine. You’re not alone. Kendrick and I are here, remember?”

  She doesn’t reply, but I can tell the thought reassures her. She’s family. I’ll always have her back. We make our way to the entrance together. Diving deeper and deeper into the crowd, I catch Luke’s smile as we pass each other in the hall.

  Luke Jenson, typical jock and Riverside High’s proudest accomplishment. He’s our varsity team’s golden boy, reputed best QB the school’s had in decades. Zoey dated one of Luke’s douche friends sophomore year, and although their relationship didn’t survive its first month, Luke and I remained friendly. And by friendly, I mean we smile at each other in the halls and talk in art class.

  As Winter and I weave our way through the halls, I scoff at her worried expression.

  “See? It’s just like any other school.”

  She doesn’t reply, yet again too focused on trying to breathe.

  “We’re here.” I stop in front of her locker—that I arranged for us to share so that she wouldn’t have to be locker partner with a complete stranger—and she stacks her books inside.

  This day is going to be so stressful for her. I’ll do everything I can to make it drama-free.

  Then I see him.

  Down the hall.

  The idiot Zoey spent all of last year blabbing about.

  Haze Adams.

  The students around us display the usual reaction. They keep their heads down, count the tiles, and wish to disappear from freaking existence. Nothing new here. I hate to say it—I hate to think it—but… I’m right there with them.

  Am I scared of him?

  You’re damn right I am.

  Apparently, if you’re a female in this school, there are two ways you can feel about Haze Adams: you can either want to jump his bones, or pee your pants whenever he walks into the room. Zoey’s category number one.

  I’m number two.

  Don’t get me wrong, I get the whole smoking hot, tattooed, damaged-bad-boy appeal, but… I know for a fact Haze is involved in the same street fighting nightmare as Kendrick. I heard Kendrick talking shit about him to Will once.

  If I’m not wrong, he’s also my brother’s biggest competition in the ring. Haze is more than just the kid your parents tell you to stay away from. And while the people at school don’t know as much as I do, they know enough.

  Rumor has it Haze once broke a guy’s nose for looking at him the wrong way. Is it true? Probably. I’m so focused on trying not to meet his gaze that I don’t even think of Winter. I can barely comprehend what’s happening when Haze stops dead in his tracks.

  And stares.

  At first, I think he’s staring at me.

  Until I realize I couldn’t be more wrong.

  He’s looking at Winter.

  “Tell me she didn’t,” I hear a girl mutter in the distance.

  Shit.

  She looked at him, didn’t she?

  Of course she did.

  My bad. I didn’t tell her about the dumbass rules of our school. Don’t talk back to Haze Adams, don’t get in his way, and especially don’t look him in the eyes. The guy is like high school royalty, feared but popular, hated but loved, a bully and a heartbreaker. Whispers pour over us.

  “What did you do?” I ask.

  “You tell me.” Panic rises in her tone.

  “You got a problem?” a deep voice says.

  Well, fuck.

  He’s standing mere steps away, his gaze dark and his face unreadable.

  “Excuse her. She’s new. She doesn’t know,” I word vomit.

  He doesn’t acknowledge me, analyzing Winter intently.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Winter.” She falters.

  “She won’t do
it again. I’m so sorry.” I hate that I’m such a little bitch.

  “I’m not talking to you.”

  That’s Winter’s snapping point.

  “Who the hell do you think you are, jackass?”

  The whispers stop abruptly. Haze looks stunned, shocked.

  “What did you just say to me?” He moves closer to her.

  I grip her arm. “Winter, don’t.”

  She looks back at me, defiance glowing in her eyes as she brings her focus back to the six-foot-something bully in front of her.

  “You heard me.”

  It’s all so sudden my brain needs a second catch up. Haze fills the distance between them, and Winter jumps as her back collides with the locker behind her. She closes her eyes like she expects him to hurt her, and a small laugh escapes his lips.

  “What are you doing? I’m not going to hit you.” A hint of mockery lingers in his voice.

  He leans forward, ever so slightly, and pushes a strand of her hair behind her ear. She’s trembling.

  “I’m going to let this go because you’re new, love. But watch your mouth from now on.”

  Then he walks off.

  Just like that.

  Winter doesn’t speak for a while, struggling to reconnect with her senses. The color has completely deserted her skin.

  “What just happened?” She blinks at me in disbelief.

  I curse under my breath and brace myself for the Haze Adams biography I’m about to drop on her. So much for a drama-free first day, huh?

  Entering the only classroom that doesn’t make me want to rip my eyes out, I squeeze my notebooks against my chest. I couldn’t wait for last period and the only class I remotely enjoy: art class.

  The day elapsed at a painfully slow pace although it went much better than the way it started. Frankly, I’m surprised I didn’t have to drive Winter to the airport so she could flee our mad country after what happened in the hall this morning.

  Welcome to America, cousin.

  Would you like a side of crazy with that?

  On a brighter note, I got to introduce Winter to Morgan at lunch. They got along wonderfully, as I expected they would. Zoey isn’t at school today. She said she’s sick. Translation: she’s swiping on Tinder and maxing out her mom’s credit card online shopping.

 

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