Forgotten Rules: A Brother's Best Friend Romance

by Eliah Greenwood

  When I feel a smile coming dangerously close to my lips, I tap out of our conversation and roll out of bed, marching toward my bathroom to get ready for my first day.

  No one’s distracting me today.

  Especially not Will.

  The bell hanging above the glass door chimes as I walk into the stone building I now get to call work. A nervous wreck, I analyze the squeaky-clean, blue-and-white-painted store. Jenny told me it was renovated recently, hence the modern look.

  My gaze shifts across the room. More precisely to my new boss standing behind the counter. She’s just finishing up with a customer. Jenny is a beautiful girl, taller than average—I’d say five foot nine—and rocks auburn, almost red mid-shoulder hair. She has a skinny frame and a rack that’s pretty hard not to notice. I wish I was half as blessed as she is in that department. I can barely fill out B cups.

  “Hey, Kassidy. Right on time.” She smiles, gesturing to come closer. The customer heads out, dog food hoisted under his arm.

  We make basic chitchat, exchanging how are you’s and complaints about the cloudy weather. Jenny then introduces herself. She’s twenty-two, studying to be an English teacher, and working as store manager to pay off her student loans. She’s been working here for three years.

  She shows me around and tells me where everything is. I carry a notepad with me—because that’s the kind of employee I am—and write down as many details as I possibly can. It takes all I have not to stop and stare at the puppies as we pass them.

  Lunchtime rolls around and Jenny tells me I’ll get to meet Isabella, Luke’s aunt and the store owner, sometime this afternoon. Apparently, Isabella’s visits are an event to celebrate as she owns a handful of stores all over town, basically making her too busy to breathe.

  Another employee shows up for his shift a bit before my lunch break. Jenny introduces the tall, built African American guy as Ethan, who I come to find out is two years older than me. Once we’ve gotten the formalities out of the way, I retreat to the back of the store.

  Luke is the first person I see when I pad back into the room thirty minutes later. Braced against the counter and flaunting the school’s varsity jacket, he scrolls through Instagram.

  A woman who appears to be in her late forties stands behind the cash register, absently organizing papers. I take in her dark frizzy hair, gray cardigan, and tanned skin. She looks up when I come into view and rounds the counter, heading toward me.

  “You must be Kassidy.” Isabella holds out her hand to me.

  “That I am. Nice to meet you.” I smile, giving her hand a slight shake.

  She doesn’t spare me a smile, nor does she say it back, but I doubt it has anything to do with me. Jenny said she can be a bit rough around the edges sometimes, but she’s a big softie on the inside.

  After giving me a brief, professional “Welcome to the team” speech, Isabella says her goodbyes and embraces Luke, her nephew, thanking him for lunch. That’s why he’s here. He must’ve followed her back to the store. Ethan comes back from the bathroom a heartbeat later, missing her by a wink.

  “So, how’s the first day going?” Luke asks me.

  “Great. Thanks again for getting me an interview.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He smiles. “Jen, not too hard on her, I hope?”

  Jenny laughs. “I don’t have to, she’s a natural. But I do need my employee back sometime today, Jenson.”

  It’s clear they know each other well. Luke probably hung around the store often back when his aunt ran it—this was her first store. When asked if he’s got somewhere to be by Jenny, Luke starts fidgeting with his jersey.

  He doesn’t want to leave.

  “Yeah, hm… Kass, before I go, I wanted to ask you… Can I take you out sometime?”

  Shit.

  I can feel Jenny and Ethan staring directly into my soul. There isn’t a single person in the vicinity not awaiting my reply—I bet even the fucking fishes are on the edge of their seats. Everybody’s impatient to see if I’m going to be that girl. The one who says no to her boss’s nephew, not to mention the guy who got her the job.

  “Sure.” I crumble to the peer pressure.

  “Really?” His eyes widen. “I mean, cool.” He retracts his excitement, and guilt floods my stomach. He’s such a nice guy. I don’t want to lead him on. Truth is, I’m just not that interested. And at the risk of sounding like a walking cliché, it’s not him, it’s me. I need a break from boys. We can talk in a year.

  “Next weekend?” he asks.

  “Okay.” I force a smile.

  “Great. I’ll text you.”

  I nod.

  “See you at school.” Luke makes his way to the door, angles his head back for one last smile, and exits the now completely silent store. Immediately, Ethan goes off.

  “Holy guacamole.”

  Jenny muffles a laugh.

  “It’s his first time seeing Luke,” she explains.

  So… Ethan is gay.

  Cue the disappointed girls all over the world.

  I trail back to the counter, punching in on the computer.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Ethan’s scandalized. “How are you not more excited about this? Are you blind? He’s smoking hot.”

  It’s my turn to restrain my laughter.

  Jenny calls us to order. “Okay, back to work you two. These fish tanks aren’t going to clean themselves.”

  “Women, I swear. They don’t appreciate the gifts of God,” Ethan puffs as he walks away.

  Climbing inside my car after locking up the store with Jenny, I wonder if it’d be okay to tell my mom I need a weekend on top of this weekend. Today was downright exhausting. Squeezing years of information into a six-hour shift will do that to you. Firing up my car, I eye my phone on the passenger seat and catch myself wanting to text Will.

  I select our conversation before I can overthink it.

  Kass: You’ll be happy to know I decided to give Luke a chance.

  Five minutes go by.

  Willy Wonka: Weren’t you just telling me how much you don’t want to date him?

  Kass: I know but I felt bad. He asked me out in front of my co-workers. On my first day at the job HE got me. What was I supposed to do?

  Willy Wonka: Say you have a boyfriend?

  Kass: I don’t?

  Willy Wonka: He doesn’t know that.

  Kass: You were bugging me to date him just yesterday. What happened?

  Willy Wonka: That’s before I knew how goddamn annoying he was.

  Okay?

  Kass: Stop. He’s nice. I even bet when he says “Netflix and Chill” he means “Watching a movie”

  Willy Wonka: Can you hear me snoring?

  Kass: Shut up. Just because a guy is a gentleman doesn’t make him boring.

  Willy Wonka: Yeah but that’s not what you need.

  My mind runs a marathon.

  Kass: You don’t know shit about what I need, Willy.

  Willy Wonka: Wrong.

  Kass: Okay. What do I need?

  Willy Wonka: You need a guy who can’t keep his hands, eyes and mouth off you. Not some mama’s boy who doesn’t have the balls to kiss you.

  Something in my chest gives a jolt.

  But it’s not my heart. It can’t be.

  I won’t allow it.

  I don’t understand my body’s reaction to his message, but what I understand even less… are the images invading my brain when I soak in his words.

  I imagine him.

  Will.

  Doing all these things to me.

  Kissing me, touching me, fu—

  Willy Wonka: But that’s just my opinion

  I nibble on my lower lip. My mind went to a seriously weird place for a second there.

  Kass: Yeah, well, if you know a guy who can do all these things, hit me up. Until then I’ll keep going on my “boring” dates.

  I blink at my screen, confused by my own damn self. I don’t know why I said that, why I was just goi
ng on about how much I don’t want to date anyone only to try and get a reaction out of Will a second later.

  He doesn’t text back. Not in the first five minutes, not in the next. Fifteen minutes later, I grow sick of waiting and speed out of the store parking lot. As soon as I pull into my driveway, my phone lights up with his reply.

  Willy Wonka: I’ll let you get back to golden boy now.

  First thing I learned today:

  I can’t figure out William Martins.

  Second thing I learned today:

  I sure as hell am going to try.

  Kassidy

  Groaning in annoyance, I rifle through my purse, desperate to find my keys. Stress ball, sticky notes, lipstick. No keys. I release a scoff, mocking myself for hoarding so much useless shit. I’ve never, in the five years I’ve had it, used that stress ball, but I still carry it around, just in case.

  I’ve been working at the pet store for a few days now. The adjustment period wasn’t easy—processing truckloads of information in a completely new environment never is—but the silver lining is, I got to meet my long-lost gay soul mate, Ethan. We skipped the awkward, work friend moment and jumped straight into the “let’s hang out” phase.

  He fed me bits and pieces of his life story, skimming over the details, but it didn’t take a PhD to figure out it had something to do with his parents disapproving of his sexuality and shipping him to Florida to live with his older sister.

  Unlocking the front door, I shuffle inside my house, checking the time. It’s past 9:00. I was supposed to be out of work at 8:00, but a family of five walked in two minutes before closing. Fun.

  Tonight is movie night. The girls have been blowing up my phone, whining about how late I am. I was supposed to meet them at Zoey’s an hour ago. I just need to get changed and hop in the shower. Lobbing my purse and keys on the kitchen table, I begin texting them ba—

  “Stop moving, for God’s sake!”

  I nearly drop my phone.

  My eyes jump to the closed bathroom door. Someone’s in there.

  A guy someone.

  I didn’t see a car outside.

  Or was I too exhausted to notice?

  “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one with this thing stuck on your head. Which, by the way, isn’t exactly weightless.”

  Is that… Winter?

  “Oh, I’m sorry, princess. I shouldn’t have given you a helmet. It’s not like it can save your life or anything.”

  Wait, I know that voice.

  “We might have to go to the hospital. I mean, you can’t exactly keep it on your head forever, can you?”

  Winter laughs. “They could make a documentary about me.”

  “Helmet girl. When Winter was eighteen years old, her head got stuck in a motorcycle helmet. People were never able to get it off. She’s been living without makeup and hasn’t brushed her teeth ever since.”

  My cousin’s laughter increases.

  Failing to contain my curiosity, I walk over and swing the door open. What I see on the other side is… a shitshow.

  No better way to put it.

  My cousin, wearing a motorcycle helmet. And Haze Adams, hands dripping with soap.

  “Winter?” I frown.

  “This isn’t what it looks like,” she stammers.

  Haze bites back his laughter. “Tell me, what exactly does this look like?”

  Fuck it.

  “You know what? I don’t even want to know.” I shut the door. I’ve had a long day, and I’d rather not waste the last of my brain energy on this. Hurrying to the fridge, I grab an apple. I hear them burst into laughter and can’t help listening. Thin walls, okay?

  “If she tells Kendrick, I’m dead.”

  “What could she possibly tell him? He had soap on his hands, and she had a helmet on her head?”

  They don’t say anything for the next minute. I’m halfway up the stairs when I realize I left my bag in the kitchen.

  “I hate to put an end to our second date, but I have to go.” I discern Haze’s voice as I’m passing through.

  Did he just say second date?

  As in they had a first date?

  “I’ll see you at school?” he questions.

  I don’t hear her answer, only Haze’s footsteps to the door.

  “Hey, Kingston?” he says quietly.

  Silence.

  “Thank you for getting to know me.”

  “Hey, Adams?”

  I hang on to their every word.

  Wow, I am such a creep right now.

  “Thank you for showing me you were worth knowing.”

  Haze is out of the bathroom a second later. I hide like the professional stalker that I am, awaiting the front door’s slam. Winter wanders into the hall next, head free of Haze’s helmet. I lurch out of my hiding spot, making her jump.

  “Thank you for showing me you were worth knowing? Seriously?” I blurt out.

  Winter, come on, you’re smarter than this. He is so going to break your heart. Reeking of shame, she rounds me, rushing up the stairs without a word.

  “When you catch feelings and he drops you, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I call right before she closes her bedroom door.

  I instantly regret being hard on her. I don’t mean to be the bad guy. I don’t mean to be the annoying cousin, but she has no idea who she’s dealing with. People don’t change. Especially not the kind with bulging muscles and tattoos.

  My phone lights up with another of Zoey’s impatient texts, and I lock myself into the bathroom for a much-needed shower. Once I’m done, I change out of my work clothes into joggers and a crop top.

  Lacing a hoodie around my hips in case I get cold, I zoom down the stairs, stopping short at the sound of my brother’s voice. He’s on the phone in the guest room. I don’t think much of it, making a beeline for the front door.

  “Going out?”

  I jolt, spinning to see Will staring at me, back against the wall, buff arms crossed over his chest. He looks me up and down so shamelessly my stomach flips. I swallow hard, drinking in his appearance. We might’ve stopped texting after I told him about my date with Luke, but that doesn’t mean I’m any less attracted to his dumb ass.

  He’s wearing dark sweatpants and an unzipped black jacket on top of a white tank top, which accentuates that ridiculous body of his. I’m guessing he just finished working out.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Just hanging out with Kendrick. He had to take a call.” He gestures to the distant guest room with a flick of his chin.

  I nod, but I can’t stop wondering what he’d look like if someone tore those sweaty clothes off him. Even better, if I tore those sweaty clothes off him.

  Kass, knock it off!

  “You?” he asks.

  “Heading out. Movie night with my friends.”

  “Which friends?” He cocks an eyebrow. “And don’t say Zoey because she doesn’t qualify as one.”

  He still doesn’t like her. Noted.

  “What’d she ever do to you?” I slide into the pair of sneakers I left by the door.

  “Me? Nothing. It’s you she’s constantly bossing around.”

  “She doesn’t—”

  My phone pings with a text.

  “Hold on.” I pick it out of my sweats pocket.

  “Let me guess, it’s her.”

  He’s spot-on, but I don’t tell him that, unlocking my phone to a list of things I have to get for movie night. Not that I’m surprised. We said we’d take turns buying food for our rom-com marathons, but Morgan and I are the only ones ever holding up our ends of the deal.

  Zoey always forgets and texts me to grab some things on the way. She hasn’t been able to pay me back yet, but it’s okay. Although I have to admit I could’ve done without her list this week. I’m really short on money. Still haven’t gotten paid.

  “What does she want?” He reads me loud and clear.

  “She’s just asking when I’ll get there.”

/>   He doesn’t miss a beat, striding over to me and snatching the phone out of my hands.

  “Hey!” I yelp.

  His eyes comb through every word within seconds.

  He frowns. “What is this shit?”

  “It’s nothing. Just a list of things I have to get.”

  His jaw twitches.

  “You’re not her fucking pet. Tell your bitchy friend to run her errands herself.”

  His reaction, as negative as it may be, makes me feel some type of way. A good some type of way.

  “Why do you care?” I turn the tables on him.

  Like I’ve just called him to order, he chucks my phone back into my palm, crosses the kitchen with slow, lazy strides, and slides back into his previous position—arms crossed, leg up— against the wall.

  “I don’t.” He shrugs. “Just feel bad for you, that’s all.”

  I swear this boy’s mood changes at the flip of a coin.

  “Tell me one good thing about her. I dare you.”

  “No.” I stand my ground.

  “So, you’re admitting she’s a bad friend?”

  “Fine. She makes me laugh.”

  He snorts. “Yeah, because she’s a fucking joke.”

  “Will!”

  “What? I’m kind of an expert on the matter. Had a friend like that once. I would’ve done anything he asked, even when it was batshit crazy, because I thought he’d do the same for me.”

  “And… did he?”

  His voice plummets in volume, revealing a faint, easily missed edge of vulnerability. “Nah. He threw my ass under the bus the second things got rough.”

  “That sucks. What happened?”

  I can feel every inch of him pulling away from me when the words leave my mouth—Crazy considering he’s halfway across the room.