Forgotten Rules: A Brother's Best Friend Romance

by Eliah Greenwood

  William Martins summed up in one sentence, folks.

  Shambling toward the table, I squeeze my phone and pray Will is going to hold up his end of the bargain. My awful date’s name is Simon: he’s good-looking, sure, but so full of himself I’ve wanted to bash my head against the table since he opened his mouth.

  He hasn’t once asked me a question about myself or shown interest in who I am. Pretty sure I could be an axe murderer and he wouldn’t care as long as I listen to him talk.

  As I’m closing in on him from behind, I see You’ve just matched with Caitlin flash onto his phone screen. Tinder? Seriously? Like this date wasn’t enough of a disaster already.

  “Hey, sorry it took so long.” I take my seat.

  “No problem, sexy. You want to get out of here?” He packs his phone into his back pocket.

  Ew.

  “Yeah. I’m exhausted, and I have to get up early tomorrow. Can you take me home?” I am never letting a guy pick me up at my house ever again. If I’d shown up with my car, I could’ve left, and believe me, I would’ve.

  As though I’ve just offered him to fuck me right there on the table, he smirks. “Absolutely, babe.”

  I curse his inability to take a hint.

  The waitress is fast to make us pay.

  Correction: make me pay.

  Because he forgot his wallet at home.

  Never. Dating. Again.

  My phone goes off the second we exit the restaurant.

  Will.

  He’s right on time, yet a minute too late. The waitress was quicker than expected. I send the call to voicemail and shove my phone into my pocket, telling myself I’ll explain later. The entire drive, Simon tries to grab my thigh, make eye contact with me, ask me forward, sexual-based questions. I barely reply, my legs flush against the car door. I look desperate to get away from him. How does he not see that?

  Or is it that he doesn’t care?

  Endless minutes later, he drops me off at my house.

  “Thanks.” I don’t spare him a look, hurrying out of the car.

  He gets out, too.

  Shit.

  My phone won’t stop buzzing in my pocket, but I ignore it. Must be Morgan wanting to know all about my date. Simon walks me to my door at a painfully slow pace. His body language suggests he doesn’t want to part ways.

  “Thanks for tonight. Goodbye.” I fumble with my keys, but before I can unlock the door, he grabs my arm, tugging me to his chest.

  “What’s the rush?” He inches closer, allowing me to feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek. I shiver in disgust. It’s not that he looks bad. More that he’s so rotten on the inside it completely pulverizes any trace of his beauty.

  “Like I said, I work early tomorrow. I should be asleep right now.” My voice quivers. Get a grip.

  “That’s too bad. I was hoping we could do something other than sleep.” Dismissing my rejection, he grabs the back of my neck for a forceful kiss. I manage to whip my head just in time.

  “Stop!” I try to shove him off, but he barely staggers. Fear paralyzes me. Kendrick’s not home—he’s still hiding from my mom in Blake’s man cave—Winter seems to be out, and my mom is at work. I’m all alone.

  “You fucking tease. You’ve been making eyes at me the whole night, and now you don’t want it? Two seconds ago, you were practically begging me to fuck you.”

  Balls smashing in 3, 2, 1…

  “How fucking blind do you have to be?”

  Simon leaps three steps away from me, caught in the act. I could cry when I glance over his shoulder and see Will slamming his car door. I have no idea why he’s here, but I couldn’t care less if I tried. He’s here. That’s all that matters.

  “Who’s this clown?” Simon frowns.

  “Someone who’s going to smash your face to the fucking concrete if you don’t get back in your car in the next five seconds,” Will says in a chilling, calm voice, the only indicator of his anger his clenched, blood-drained fists.

  I watch as Simon considers his options: fight or flee. He has the good sense to opt for the latter and walk away. Wise choice. Not only does Will have a good four inches on him, he’s also buffer, bearing broader shoulders. He would murder him.

  “You’re fucking ugly anyway,” Simon spits, trailing to his car.

  That’s what does it.

  Will snaps. “The fuck did you just say to her?”

  Uh-oh.

  Will’s strides toward Simon before I can blink.

  “Will, no!” I screech just as Will’s cocking his fist back and launching it square into Simon’s jaw, who plummets to the ground like dead weight.

  “Apologize,” Will grits out, hoisting Simon up by the collar of his branded shirt. That’s when it ceases to be about defending my honor. When it becomes about something else.

  Something more.

  Pure rage emanates off him.

  I have never seen Will lose his temper like this.

  “Or what?” Simon confirms he has a death wish.

  There goes another punch. Will doesn’t once let go of him, watching blood trickle down Simon’s forehead.

  “Last chance, rapist,” Will hisses.

  “Fuck you.” Simon spits out blood.

  “Get over yourself and do it!” I shout at the top of my lungs.

  Will puts up another fist, and Simon’s entire body tenses before he squeezes his eyes shut and yells, “Okay! Okay! Fuck. I’m sorry.” He holds his hands up in surrender.

  Will halts himself midswing, his fist drooping by his side. Can’t blame Simon for backing down. I almost shit my pants for him.

  “Leave.” Will seethes inches away from Simon’s face. “And lose her fucking number.” He releases Simon’s collar with a strong push that sends him swaying. Simon stumbles to his car and disappears down the street in a deafening roar.

  “What the hell was that?” I blurt out.

  “It’s called saving your ass. You’re welcome.” Will spins around, steering toward his car.

  “Bullshit.” I spring into his way, acting as a roadblock. “You could’ve just roughened him up a bit. It looked personal.”

  “Are you serious? He tried to force himself on you. What else was I going to do? Let it happen again?”

  Again?

  Did I miss the first time?

  “What do you think would’ve happened if I hadn’t been there, huh?” he continues. “You think he would’ve stopped at a kiss? You should be happy I showed up when I did.”

  “Why did you even show up in the first place?” I ask.

  “Doesn’t matter.” He aims for his car again.

  “It does to me!” I slap my palms to his torso, desperate to slow him down. Only then does he stop, the quick rising of his chest dropping as he looks at me.

  He avoids my gaze, his jaw tight as he admits, “You didn’t answer your phone. I got worried.”

  My heart clenches in my chest.

  Crap, stupid feelings are still there.

  He has no idea how much harder he makes it for me when he says things like that.

  “Thank you. I have no idea what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there,” I say truthfully, and his features soften.

  “I’ll always be there, Kass. You know I got your back,” he says, a whisper of emotion in his voice. It’s not just noise—he means it. The thought makes me want to hug the life out of him. “What happened? Why didn’t you pick up?”

  “We were already on our way out when you called.”

  “Next time you tell me what’s going on, you hear me?” he scolds. “No, you know what? Don’t allow next time to happen again. Period.”

  I only want next time to be with you.

  “I won’t,” I agree, watching his shoulders unwind.

  The dust settles around us. Driving his hands deep into his pockets, he looks at me in silence.

  “So…” He shifts from side to side.

  “So…” I repeat.

  “I’m going to
go.” He motions to his car, turning to leave.

  The words slip out of my mouth.

  “Or you could stay.”

  He stops dead in his tracks. Then glances at me over his shoulder, debating.

  “W-We could watch a movie or just… talk,” I stammer in a weak attempt to cover up the fact that I basically asked him to spend the night in my bed again.

  He stares at me intently for long, dragging seconds.

  “Okay.”

  “Are you ready to tell me what really happened out there?” I shut my laptop and roll to my side to see Will half passed out next to me. The movie was crap, but we stuck it out. My guess is we preferred the shitty movie over acknowledging what happened earlier. We needed a second.

  Translation: Will needed a second.

  “You’re not going to let it go, are you?” he exhales.

  “Nope.”

  He scoffs. “Didn’t think so.”

  Will stretches, flipping on his back and guiding one arm under his head.

  “I’ve never seen you so…”

  “Angry?” he finishes.

  I nod.

  “What can I say? Douchebags being abusive to women piss me off. Sue me.”

  There’s more. So much more he’s not telling me, I know it. I wonder how long he’s been doing this. Locking his soul up tight and throwing away the key. Does Kendrick, his supposed best friend, know more than I do?

  Does anyone know more?

  “You said you couldn’t let it happen again.”

  “So? I spoke too fast. Didn’t mean anything.”

  “But—”

  “Kass.” He scowls at me, his tone warning me to let it go.

  “Fine.” I concede defeat. “This dress is hell. I’m going to change.” I push off my bed, picking clothes out of my dresser and scurrying toward my bathroom.

  I pause two steps inside.

  I have to know.

  “Are you… sleeping with me?” I choke on the words, my voice cracking like a little boy’s.

  Instantly, a cocky smile spreads across his face.

  Shit.

  “T-That came out wrong.”

  “I think it came out perfectly.” He scans my body in such a shameless way that tingles creep up my spine. He’s driving me completely insane. One second I’m certain he’s just as attracted to me as I am to him, and the next, I feel knee-deep into the friend zone.

  I lock myself into the bathroom, trading my dress for leggings and a T-shirt—one that doesn’t give Will a first-class view of my nipples—and walk out.

  I find Will in the exact same position I left him.

  Except that now… he’s shirtless.

  On my bed.

  “What? Not what you had in mind?” He cocks an eyebrow.

  Lord, help me.

  “Or did I read that wrong?” he teases, rising off my bed and stalking toward me.

  “You know damn well you read it wrong.” I swallow hard. “I just meant that you could… grab some of Kendrick’s clothes to be more comfortable or something. He has a bunch in his room.” I trip over my words.

  As soon as Kendrick’s name is uttered, the smirk is slapped off Will’s lips. He tumbles backward, eyes boring into mine like I just smacked him across the face with a wake-up call.

  And I’m right there with him.

  Kendrick.

  My brother.

  This is Will.

  His best friend.

  “I’m not spending the night. I… I think I should go, actually. I have this thing tomorrow.” He rubs at the back of his neck, picking his T-shirt off my bed and dressing himself.

  “Oh, okay, I-I’ll see you later.”

  Will forces a smile before booking it down the stairs. The front door slams in the distance, and I plop down onto my bed.

  I’m not going to lie, I’m mad that he left.

  But mostly, I’m eager to find out what would’ve happened…

  If he hadn’t.

  Kassidy

  Two months earlier

  Texting Morgan as Blake drives, I roll down my window to catch a breeze of fresh air. Today is Friday and one of the hottest, most humid days we’ve had in ages. Blake and I haven’t said a word to each other since I climbed inside his car. Not that I’m surprised. It’s been like this for weeks now. Weirdest part is, we’re not mad at each other.

  We just don’t have much to say.

  “How was your day?” I ask, peeling my thighs off Blake’s sticky leather seats. That’s how hot it is outside.

  “Okay,” Blake says, neglecting to return the question. Is the spark between us gone? Was it ever there to begin with? I’m not entirely sure. I’ve never had a boyfriend before. All I know is everything feels predictable now.

  That’s as far as our conversation goes. A few miles of silence later, he hits the brakes, dropping me off two blocks away from my house in case Kendrick’s home.

  “Thanks for the ride.” I climb out of the car.

  “Sure” is all he says before speeding away. No I love you or I’ll call you later. He’s not what one would call an expressive boyfriend. Rarely talks about his feelings.

  I make my way to my house, flinching under the scorching sun. I only need one look at the cars lined up in the lot to know something’s wrong. My dad’s home. But his Mercedes is still running, its trunk wide open and brimming with stuff. He just came back from a weeklong business trip. He’s probably unpacking—yeah, that must be it.

  Approaching the door, I pluck my keys out of my pocket but quickly realize I’m not going to need them when my brother swings the door open and scampers out of the house. He’s mad. No, he’s furious.

  But why?

  “Don’t,” he spits.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, the fear settling in my stomach.

  “Kass, trust me. Do yourself a favor and don’t go in there,” he advises, shuddering with rage, and walks around me to get to his car. I watch as he reverses out of the driveway recklessly.

  Deciding not to heed his warning, I push the door open to find him standing in the kitchen.

  My dad.

  Filling up a suitcase he threw on the table. Countless black garbage bags cover the kitchen tiles.

  “Dad? What’s going on?”

  Sobs cut through the air.

  I’d recognize her cries amongst millions.

  They’re my mom’s.

  “Where’s Mom?” I glance around the room nervously.

  Exasperated, my dad points to the bathroom.

  “Mom!” I run to the closed door, knocking repeatedly. “Mom, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

  “Kass, baby, please…” Sniffle. “Please just go…” Sniffle. “Go to Morgan’s for the night.”

  “What? Why? Let me in!” I wrestle with the locked knob.

  “Kassidy, do as I say. I’ll come and get you, I promise. I love you, baby, but you have to go, okay?” She can barely finish her sentence from crying too hard.

  I blink back my own tears.

  Nothing, nothing, is worse than seeing or hearing your mother suffer.

  “Mom, stop. You’re scaring me.” I pound against the door

  I hear the water running. She’s shutting me up. She can’t deal with me right now. Confused, I run back to the kitchen where my dad is standing in his thousand-dollar suit, prowling around the room and gathering all of his belongings.

  “Are you going somewhere?”

  “Kassidy, I really can’t do this right now. I’m sorry.” He zips up the suitcase, picks it up along with the last trash bags on the floor, and passes me by without so much as a look.

  “What? Dad, please. Why are you leaving?” Panic consumes me. I follow closely behind him, helpless as he dumps the last of the trash bags into his trunk and slams it shut. He reaches for his car door. Desperate, I run to him, grasping at his suit and yanking him back.

  “Dad! Please,” I cry out.

  He sighs, finally acknowledging my existence and staring m
e dead in the eyes to say, “Your mom and I are getting a divorce, Kassidy.”

  I blink back tears.

  “What? No. You… You can’t leave.” I feel so helpless, desperately looking for the right thing to say—if it even exists. “You guys are strong. You’ll figure it out. Don’t do this.” Just like that, I revert back into the five-year-old girl begging her father not to leave her at school.

  “I have to. Your mom doesn’t want me here. Plus, I have a job offer in another town.”

  I’m not going to pretend I didn’t see it coming, because the truth is, my parents haven’t been fine for a while, always arguing and yelling when they think we can’t hear them. Blame it on the stupid business trips my dad always takes. Still, it’s not like my dad to give up. He worked so hard to get this job as a college dean. Why give it up now?

  “What happened? What could be so bad that you have to move out of the house and quit your job?” I shout. I need them to give me something. He turns his back on me, sliding inside his car. The opened window allows for one last false promise.

  “I need time to figure things out. I’ll come back when I can be a better father to you and your brother.”

  He drives until his car is nothing but a distant memory.

  Now

  Zoey: Girl, I’m sorry but I have to tell you. Callie just texted me. Will’s blowing up her phone. He wants to see her today.

  Reading the text on my screen for the thousandth time, I try and trick my brain into believing that this is a misunderstanding. That there’s a rational explanation for this. One that doesn’t include Will deciding to pick up where he left off.

  There’s no way he’s looking to fuck Callie again, right? I fight and fight, but the truth fights harder.

  Rippppppp.

  That’s the sound of my heart cracking open.

  Way to ruin my day off.

  Kass: Thanks for telling me.

  To think I believed we were going somewhere yesterday. I thought when he said he drove to my house because he was worried about me that maybe…

  God, I’m so stupid.

  If he’d been able to pay Callie a visit yesterday, I’m sure he would’ve. Acting on impulse, I pull up a text conversation I haven’t opened in a long time.