Forgotten Rules: A Brother's Best Friend Romance

by Eliah Greenwood

“Where is this coming from?” He searches my eyes.

  “Look, I-I really have to go.” I try to wriggle my way out of his grasp, but he tugs me back.

  “Wait, please. Whatever I did, I’m… I’m sorry.”

  The guilt dripping from every word feels like a stab to the gut. He really is sorry, but it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t be around him anymore. I can’t be his friend.

  These feelings are a ticking time bomb.

  And I have no intention of being here when it goes off.

  “Can we just… do this some other time?” I give the tiled floor my sole focus.

  “Kass, fuck, just… Look at me,” he begs, raising the tip of my chin with his index. Our eyes lock despite my best efforts. “Talk to me.”

  Why is he making this so hard?

  “You seemed mad when we were playing Zoey’s dumb game, too,” he has the audacity to add.

  I’m surprised you even noticed with Callie’s tongue down your throat.

  “Callie’s probably wondering where you are. Why don’t you go find her?” I retrieve my wrist, adding as much space as possible to the gap between us.

  “Because I don’t fucking want to,” he snarls.

  Hearing him say that makes my heart way too happy.

  “Then why did you invite her here?”

  “Why did you invite Luke?” He gives me a taste of my own medicine. Technically, I didn’t invite Luke, but I’m way too drunk to bother correcting him.

  “What’s it to you?” I step dangerously close to him, my anger overriding my common sense. “Why are you here, Will? What do you want from me?”

  A beat of silence.

  “Honestly?” It should be a question, but he says it as a warning. A low “You have no idea what you’re asking for” warning.

  “No, fucking lie to me!”

  He doesn’t speak for a while, staring down my face as if he’s debating on something. The alcohol makes his blue eyes pop, tugging at my weaknesses. Disarming me completely.

  Waiting for his reply feels like hanging off a goddamn cliff.

  “Okay.” He exhales after a few seconds.

  I pause.

  “Okay?” I repeat.

  “I’ll lie to you.”

  Wait, what?

  I almost yelp when he ends the distance between us with one stride, only stopping once he’s got me backed up against the bathroom counter. I can’t speak, the words dissolving on my tongue.

  So. Freaking. Close.

  “I don’t want to do this,” he rasps.

  A jolt of electricity tears through me when he grips my waist with one hand and jerks my body flush to his.

  What is he doing?

  “Or this.” His available hand slowly climbs up my bare arm, unleashing shivers all over my body. I think he can feel my goose bumps because he smirks, sweeping my hair over my shoulder and exposing my neck.

  “Will, you’re… you’re drunk.” My voice trembles.

  God, the effect this guy has on me.

  “I don’t want to do this.” He completely disregards me, cupping my face into his palm and skimming his finger across my cheek. But it’s when he runs his thumb along my bottom lip that I know…

  I’m not getting out of this bathroom with my heart intact.

  “I didn’t want it to be you earlier.”

  Internal scream.

  “And I am not fucking dying to lift you up on that counter and kiss you right now,” he says roughly, inches away from my mouth, so close I can smell the liquor on his breath. “That enough lies for you, control freak?”

  Right then, I really stop breathing. Not because of what he just said. But because of the move he makes. The move that’s going to change everything.

  He grabs the back of my neck and crashes his mouth against mine. Before my body’s even had the chance to cue in my brain on what’s happening, I’m kissing him back, repaying every touch, every sensation with interest. Our kisses start soft, slow, harmless, but the second he sucks my lower lip between his teeth, all bets are off.

  His tongue slides into my mouth, and I’m pretty sure if we were in a cartoon, he’d see my heart dramatically jumping out of my chest. My fingers wander into his hair, fisting it, pulling it, while his travel from my shoulders, to my arms, to my hips. Just like that, we go from testing the waters to letting it drown us.

  You are so going to get hurt, my voice of reason screams.

  Shut up and enjoy the ride, my heart counters.

  We sway back and forth, our mouths moving in sync like two pieces of a puzzle finally falling back together. It’s perfect. And it terrifies me. Because a first kiss will usually tell you if two people are a fit, show you whether you can see a relationship going somewhere. And, right now, I can see myself doing way more than making out with him in a bathroom.

  For lack of a better term, I’m fucked.

  Banding his hands around the back of my thighs, he plants me on the counter without a warning. I grasp at his collar, yearning for the high I’ve been denying myself. He wedges his way in between my legs, strong arms closing around me as I allow my fingers to slip inside his unbuttoned shirt. I explore his body, memorizing every curve, every muscle. I’m not entirely sure I’m in control of my own actions when my hand drops to his belt. It lasts a second, if that, but his reaction is instant.

  He grunts into my mouth.

  Oh.

  I jerk my hands away, but it’s too late.

  Shit just got real.

  I can’t muffle a moan when he grips my thigh, slowly bunching up the hem of my dress and squeezing my leg to the point of leaving a mark.

  Kass, what the hell are you doing? This is supposed to be a kiss. Not porn with clothes on.

  I’m overwhelmed by how much I want him. Sirens blare in my head, begging me to hit the brakes before we crash and burn. My instincts say if I don’t stop this, he won’t either. If I don’t move away, none of us will and we might end up…

  “Kass, get your ass downstairs. The Uber is her—”

  Will and I lurch away from each other so fast that I accidentally bump the back of my head against the mirror. Zoey stands in the doorway, mouth hanging, eyes as big as the mistake we just made.

  “Oh, Lord, I’m sorry. I didn’t… I had no… I’m just going to…” She staggers out the door.

  Fan-fucking-tastic.

  Then comes the moment I dreaded the most. The sobering moment where we fall back down to earth and let it sink in. Silent, we stare at each other, both chasing our breath. This has to be the first time I’ve ever seen Will speechless.

  He’s shocked.

  Well, that makes two of us.

  In a moment of panic, I do the only thing I can think of: push to my feet, swing the door open, and bolt. I check the room where I left Morgan, only to find it empty. Hurrying down the stairs, I spot Zoey near the entrance and drag her out of the house to catch our Uber, where she tells me Morgan is already passed out.

  I plop down into the passenger seat, attempting to wrap my mind around what just happened. Unable to believe that Will just kissed me.

  That I kissed Will.

  That we kissed.

  In the bathroom.

  Hard.

  “Look who finally took my advice,” Zoey sneers from the back seat as we speed off into the night.

  Kassidy

  Someone once told me the first moment of waking up after a night out is the worst. That it all comes down to ten seconds. The first five are made of blissful oblivion. For a short, brief memory lapse, you don’t remember anything, including the fact that your liver took a massive blow.

  Then come the slightly less pleasant part. The “Holy fuck. My head hurts,” followed by the “Shit, that’s right. I got hammered last night,” and last, but not least, the “Crap, I have to barf.” Zoey and I are currently experiencing the latest. Except my phase three comes with an epic dose of regret.

  We’ve agreed: last night was a bad idea.

&nbs
p; The shots, the drinking games?

  Bad idea.

  The hot-as-fuck make-out session in the bathroom with my brother’s best friend?

  An even worse idea.

  Zoey’s been bugging me about it since the moment we woke up—my bad for inviting her to spend the night. One thing is for sure: I am definitely not going to forget kissing William Martins on her watch.

  “Are we ever going to talk about what the hell I saw last night?” she hounds me.

  I nestle my head under my pillow, releasing a heavy sigh. How exactly do you go about answering a question you’re asking yourself? On one hand, Will said so much. On the other, he didn’t say squat. He didn’t once mention if he had feelings for me. Or what this kiss would mean.

  Or did he?

  Any event that occurred before he caged me against the bathroom counter and kissed the breath out of me is a bit of a blur. All I remember vividly are his hands all over my body, his lips on mine, the way he—

  “Kass, for fuck’s sake, I’m dying over here.” Zoey pulls me out of a daze. “What was that?’

  “Well, you see, a kiss consists of two people locking lips—”

  “Shut up.” She laughs. “You know what I mean.”

  I pry my head out from under my pillow. “I don’t know, okay? It just happened.”

  “Bullshit. A guy like that doesn’t just walk up to a girl like you and makes out with her.”

  I can’t help taking offence to her remark.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I mean that you’re… you. You’re a good, respectable girl, Kass. He wouldn’t have made a move like that without you giving him some sort of green light. You’re not like Callie, bless her soul.”

  “Ouch.” I’m upset for her. “So much for being her friend?”

  “Oh, no, I’m not being mean. She proudly calls herself a ho.”

  Well, then.

  “Hey, don’t change the subject. What’s up with you two?”

  “I’m not sure… We’ve been texting a lot recently. Hanging out. I guess we sort of became friends.”

  Zoey snorts. “Honey, friends don’t almost fuck on the bathroom counter.”

  “It was just a kiss.” I flush. Last night was euphoric. It was the most alive I’ve felt in a long time.

  “Please, he was this close to bending you over the counter and taking you right there.”

  “Zo!” I scold her.

  She sticks her hands up. “Nothing but the truth, baby.”

  “Shouldn’t you be mad?” I realize. “You spent the whole night trying to match him with Callie.”

  “Are you insane? Don’t get me wrong, I like Callie. But you’re my ride or die. If I’d known about this, I would’ve been Team Kass in a heartbeat.”

  Zoey might be a handful sometimes, but then… she says things like this. Makes you feel supported, loved. And that’s why it’s so hard for me to believe Will’s claims about her throwing me under the bus if it came down to me or her. She has flaws—we all do—but she also has these redeeming qualities, and for that one, short moment, when the good side comes out, it’s so easy to forget all that she’s done.

  “I feel bad for Callie. She had such high hopes, and he still ended up in that bathroom with me,” I admit.

  “Meh, I wouldn’t worry about it. He was just her flavor of the week. She’ll have found herself a new plaything by Monday.”

  I wish I could believe her, but Callie’s dreamy eyes as she talked about Will last night suggest she most likely won’t go down without a fight.

  “What do you think it means?” Zoey rolls to her side, propping her chin into her palm as she stares at me curiously. “Are you two like dating now?”

  “Hell if I know,” I say, only acknowledging my lie when the words trickle out of my mouth. Unless Will turned into Prince Charming overnight, I do know. “I’m guessing it was just a drunken kiss. Until he tells me otherwise, that’s how I’ll look at it.”

  Zoey proceeds to catch me up on what happened after I went searching for Morgan, telling me that as soon as I left, Will pushed Callie away and stormed off. No explanation.

  “Water.” Zoey groans mid-boy-talk. “I need water. My mouth feels like the fucking desert.”

  Four complaints later, I decide to put her out of her misery and go grab us cold water bottles out of the fridge.

  “Can you get painkillers, too?” She gives me the puppy eyes.

  “Coming right up.”

  “Thanks, you’re the beesssst,” she slurs.

  She’s clearly still drunk, and if I’m being honest, I am, too. The difference is, she doesn’t have to be at work in two hours. I do. I need to sober up. Tiptoeing down the stairs not to wake Winter, I almost slip on water and grip the railing for balance.

  Who the hell put water all over the stairs?

  I think back to the party gossips Zoey dumped on us in the Uber. Something about Bianca whining that she couldn’t find Haze anywhere after he broke off their “special friends” relationship. He told her it wouldn’t be right to keep sleeping with her knowing that she has feelings for him.

  I know, that was… awfully decent of him. He must’ve gotten punched in the head too hard at the last fight.

  I also happen to know Winter disappeared not even an hour into the party. Coincidence? I think not. My guess is they left together. Still doesn’t explain the water, but it’s the best I’ve got. Man, I hope she didn’t do anything stupid.

  Says the girl who made out with her brother’s best friend.

  Rubbing my eyes, I pad into the kitchen, instantly shivering at the icy temperature. It’s colder than Blake’s heart in here. I catch a glimpse of myself in the hall mirror on my way to the thermostat and cringe.

  I look like a pile of shit.

  And that’s putting it lightly.

  I’m so glad no one can see me right n—

  “Morning, control freak.”

  You have got to be kidding me.

  I shriek in surprise, swiveling around and spotting Will by the back door. He looks like he’s on his way out, a black gym bag dangling off his shoulder. My brother probably sent him to pick up more of his stuff.

  Because yes, Kendrick’s still staying with Blake to keep from my mother that he got his ass whooped. Only heaven knows what crazy excuse he fed my mom for her to be okay with this. I saw him from afar at the party. His face is looking better every day. He should be able to come home soon—not that I miss living with this human headache.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I clutch my racing heart.

  When Will’s eyes rake over my body, I wish I could develop superpowers and go invisible woman on his ass. I’m wearing biker shorts, no bra, and the oldest, most hideous T-shirt I own.

  At first, he seems as shocked as I am.

  Until his gaze drops to my chest.

  And he smirks.

  Don’t tell me you can see my—

  Yep. You can see my nipples.

  Note to self: Life still hates you.

  Will chews on his bottom lip, failing to conceal his grin. “Rude. I don’t even get a hi?”

  I snatch the gray cardigan my mom hung by the door, flinging it on faster than a speeding bullet, but it’s too late. Will’s seen more than enough, and he’s got his joke ready to go.

  “Or maybe your friends want to say hi?”

  This is it.

  I’m crawling under a rock and never coming out.

  “Why are you here?” I fold my arms over my chest as if to be extra certain he can’t see through the fabric.

  “Kendrick sent me to get some of his stuff for training.” He points to his gym bag. We’ve talked about me being aware of their secret before, yet I often forget about Will’s involvement in all this. That my crush also fucks people up for fun—Way to add to the already long list of reasons why I shouldn’t feel this way about him.

  He speaks before I can answer, tucking one hand into his sweatpants pocket. �
��Not too hungover?”

  “I’m fine. You?” Ironically, the pounding in my head gets five times worse when I say that.

  “Can barely remember half of my night, but I’ll live.” He ruffles through his messy hair with his available hand.

  Wait.

  “Yeah, that tends to happen when you drink double your body weight in tequila.” I slap on a weak smile, debating on asking him about his memory loss. To hell with it. “How much do you remember exactly?”

  “First half of my night at best.” He shrugs. “I know we played some lame-ass game with shots. Then everything is kind of a blur.”

  My heart sinks.

  “Oh.” I nod, failing to keep my feelings beneath the surface. Without another word, Will makes his way over to me, his steps slow but determined. My pulse throbs in anticipation. He only stops once the space between us is so small I catch a whiff of his cologne.

  He nudges a piece of my hair that swerved in front of my eye behind my ear, and I stiffen, just as affected, if not more, by his touch sober as I was drunk as a skunk.

  “Why? You remember something I don’t?” He gazes down at me, trying to read into the scowl I can’t wipe off my face.

  “No, nothing.” The disappointment in my croaky voice is so impossibly obvious I wish I could suck the words back in and give this another shot.

  “You sure?” He arches an eyebrow.

  “Positive.”

  He nods, turns away, and retraces his steps to the back door. Right. He was just on his way out. I watch him twist the knob, despising my stupid, flawless memory for remembering what his won’t. A split second before he’s out of the door, he shoulder checks me and says,

  “Funny. One would think you’d remember my hands up your dress.”

  My lips part.

  He doesn’t give me a chance to pull myself together, enjoying every bit of the shock swimming in my gaze.

  Then he’s gone.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late. Traffic was crazy.” I burst into the empty pet store five minutes after the beginning of my shift. I had to drive Zoey back to her place, and truthfully, I wasn’t looking forward to an eight-hour shift alone with Jenny. It’s not that I don’t like her, but I can’t seem to get past her professional, guarded personality.