Forgotten Rules: A Brother's Best Friend Romance

by Eliah Greenwood

  This one female.

  “I know, I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry. I’ll stop, I promi—”

  More vomiting. Unable to make sense of the events unraveling before me, I tumble back a step. I convince myself it can’t possibly get any worse until a scream reaches my ear.

  That’s when my heart crumbles into a million pieces.

  Because the panic in Will’s voice…

  I’ve never heard it before.

  “Mom! Mom! Fuck!”

  Mom.

  Motion.

  Noises.

  The shower starts.

  “Mom!” he shouts at the top of his lungs. “Wake up!”

  My guess is he just put her in the shower. Seconds pass. Will’s heart-wrenching pleas diffuse through the room’s thin walls. Then the puking picks up again. And I hear him sigh in relief. I can’t handle his ragged, rough breathing. He’s seconds away from a panic attack.

  “I’m here, honey. I’m here,” she says in a gruff voice.

  “I… I can’t.” He chokes. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  Kass, you need to leave. Now!

  Get the fuck out!

  “No, wait, I’m sorry. Don’t leave me, William.” She vomits in between sobs.

  “I can’t do this anymore.” He articulates every word as if to get it through her head. “You drained everything! Four fucking grand. Gone in a matter of days. I’m done.”

  I feel like I’m going to faint when the bathroom door swings open. Will comes out, his eyes bloodshot, his features hard. He’s barely holding back tears. But when he sees me? Standing by the door? Something shifts in his eyes.

  Something dies.

  Like he’s just reached his limit of pain for a lifetime.

  Speechless, we stand there, staring at each other. Waiting to see which one of us will speak first.

  “Kass?” He blinks shock at me.

  Before I know it, he’s grabbed me by the arm, leading me outside of the room. The instant the door closes, his shock is replaced by livid anger.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  I’m ashamed of my actions.

  “It’s Zoey, she… She sent me a picture of you leaving this place and she said you were cheating and I—”

  “Hold on,” he says as though he’s certain he misheard me. “You followed me here?”

  “No. Well, not exactly. Zoey gave me the address, and I showed up here an hour ago.” I wince at my own words.

  He seems baffled, furious, betrayed—don’t forget betrayed. Then his eyes blaze with understanding.

  “But your texts… You were here this whole time?”

  My words leave me.

  I really messed up.

  “You were testing me,” he realizes.

  Say something! Fix this!

  “Yes, I was, but only because I thought you were keeping things from me. Like your mom. You said she was okay. She’s not oka—”

  “Don’t talk about her!” he snarls. “I can’t believe it. Do you… Do you even realize what you did? You followed me, spied on me! For fuck’s sake, Kass. Who do you think I am? Your puppet?”

  Regret surges inside me.

  “It’s not like that, I swear. It’s just… you’re always so closed off. You won’t tell me anything about your life.” The more I try to patch this up, the quicker he slips through my fingers.

  I step forward, grasping his face between my hands. “I’m sorry, I messed up.”

  He squeezes his eyes shut, fuming, and exhales a deep, self-soothing breath. Helplessness, fear—just two of the many things I’m feeling when I push to my tiptoes and sling my arms around his neck, hugging him with all I have. Not to sway his forgiveness, but because I feel so awful for what he’s had to go through tonight. I need this.

  I need to be there for him.

  He doesn’t reject me, which is a good sign, but he also doesn’t reciprocate the hug. I don’t care—I’m not letting go.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, holding on tighter.

  Something tells me he knows I’m not apologizing for my mistakes. I’m apologizing for life putting him through this hell. How long has his mother been an addict? Since his father took everything and ran? Has he been dealing with this his whole life?

  Every single part of me relaxes when he returns my embrace, his arms circling my waist and drawing me flush to his chest. Relief fills me to the brim as he rests his chin atop of my head.

  “I’m so sorry,” I repeat, but his only response is a heavy sigh. Then, stupidly, I add, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Just like that, the spell is broken.

  His arms are off me, his body far from mine.

  “Are you serious right now?” His face twists in fury. “Maybe because I didn’t want you to look at me the way you’re looking at me right now. Like I’m a broken toy who needs fixing. Or maybe because this is shit, Kass. My life is shit! All of it. And call me selfish, but I wanted to have one good thing. Just one fucking thing.”

  I’m about to blab out another apology, but the devil on my shoulder laughs at me.

  Silly, girl, don’t you know?

  It’s too late.

  “I need you to go,” he says.

  My breath catches in my lungs.

  I look up at him, searching his eyes for anger, sadness—I’ll take any emotion—but what I see is… emptiness. Pure and total emptiness. It’s like I can physically feel him shutting me out. Closing himself off to me all over again.

  “W-What?” I say even though I heard him loud and clear.

  “You heard me. I need you to go. Get out of here.”

  “Wait, Will, I’m sorry, I just…” My voice cracks. “I just wanted you to let me in.”

  “This was a mistake.” He shakes his head. “Go.”

  It feels as though there’s a piece of glass lodged in my throat.

  “What was a mistake?” My heart swells with pain, and I manage to whisper a shaky “Us?”

  He smacks his lips together, tasting the words wanting out of his mouth, fighting an impulse, fighting himself. Finally, he inhales.

  “Just go. Please. I can’t deal with this right now.”

  “But your mom. She needs help. I—”

  “I said fucking go!” He yells so loud I jump back a step.

  Will has never really yelled at me before. He’s yelled around me, but never at me. But, right now, he’s had enough. And I’m to blame. He’s right. I need to go.

  So, I do.

  I nod, cursing the tears forming in my eyes, and walk away. He watches as I trail toward my car. As if he’s making sure that I’m leaving. Like he doesn’t trust me anymore.

  I don’t know that I trust me either.

  I’m back into my mom’s car within seconds, and as I drive off, I wonder if he was right.

  If this was a mistake…

  Kassidy

  Five days later

  “Kass, so help me God, you check your phone one more time, I’m taking it away,” Morgan snaps, interrupting my obsessing with a threat I have no doubt she’ll follow up on.

  “Sorry, I’m done,” I promise and power off my phone. I sure wish I could give my feelings the same treatment. How handy would that be?

  Heart status: out of order until further notice.

  Morgan does have a point. We’re supposed to be having a girls’ night. No boys allowed—not even Ethan. Too bad the blond intruder in my head didn’t get the memo.

  It’s been five days since I put my nose where it didn’t belong. Five unbearable days since Will broke up with me—well, I think he broke up with me? Truth is, I have no idea where we stand, but if his radio silence tells me anything, it’s that we’re not in a good place. I haven’t seen him at school once. And I must’ve apologized twenty times.

  He hasn’t answered any of my texts.

  Not that I deserve any less.

  Winter and Kendrick are still MIA, away on a last-minute trip to Canada—or so my mother say
s. I put on the performance of a lifetime pretending like the two of them disappearing this close to graduation wasn’t sketchy as hell. I’ve also been taking extra shifts at the pet store. It’s not like I have much to do after school anymore.

  “Still no news?” Morgan picks up on my disappointment.

  “None,” I mutter.

  “Are you ever going to tell me what happened between you two? The guy is head over heels into you one second, then the next, he just vanishes. Something doesn’t add up here.”

  I wince. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been dying to share what happened with her, but that’s not my story to tell.

  Just as it wasn’t my story to know.

  At least, not yet.

  Perhaps if I hadn’t tried to force it out of him, he would’ve told me eventually. But on his own terms.

  And when he was ready.

  “All I can tell you is I broke his trust,” I say, as vague as I can be. “I fucked up. Bad.”

  It’s been five days. Maybe it’s time I take a hint. Stop checking my phone every two seconds. Stop hoping his name will pop onto my screen. In my defense, it’s hard not to think about him. I still have one of his hoodies.

  He left it at Morgan’s.

  In fact, I’m wearing it right now. I glance down at my outfit. This simple piece of clothing triggers a foreign reaction in me. I strip off the hoodie, grab my phone, and turn it back on while assuring Morgan it’s the last time.

  He has every right to never want to talk to me again, but I need closure. I’ll die before recreating my breakup with Blake.

  Kass: I just want you to know that I get your reaction. I would do the exact same thing, and I promise I won’t blow up your phone anymore. I’ll drop your hoodie at Alex’s sometime this week.

  Then I shut off my phone.

  “Kass, wake up.”

  It’s the middle of the night when someone shakes me out of slumber. In a daze, I groan, barely peeling my eyes open and blinking my senses back to life.

  “Wait. Alex, slow down.”

  Morgan.

  She’s talking to Alex?

  The memories come rushing back, knocking me awake and alert—right, I’m spending the night at Morgan’s place. The room is pitch-black. I can barely discern my half-asleep best friend sitting on the edge of her bed, phone pressed to her ear. I check the clock on her desk. 2:06 a.m., the red digits display. We went to bed at midnight. No wonder I feel weary.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, rubbing my eyes.

  Morgan puts the call on speaker, and instantly, Alex’s deep, panicked voice rings through the darkness.

  “Is Kass with you?”

  What the…

  “Yeah, she’s here. Why?” Morgan is cold as ice.

  Still having trouble in paradise, I see.

  It’s a trend these days.

  “I’ve tried calling her a million fucking times. I need to talk to her.”

  His cursing takes me aback. Alex’s not one to drop the f bomb for no reason. Something must be seriously wrong.

  “She turned her phone off. We were having a girls’ night. Why do you need to talk to her?”

  “It’s Will.”

  Fear slams into me.

  “He… he told me he felt like she understood him once. That they were friends. I need her help. Might be a long shot, but maybe she can talk him out of it.”

  “Talk him out of what?” I cut in.

  “We’re at some bar downtown. Lucifer’s Den. Will’s a fucking wreck. He’s been getting into fights, starting shit with everyone with a heartbeat. The owners are threatening to call the cops on him, but he won’t leave. I don’t know what to do.”

  “What’s gotten into him?” Morgan panics.

  “No clue. He won’t talk to me. He’s been acting weird as shit all week. Please tell me she can help.”

  The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

  “I’m on my way.”

  I’m bursting through the doors to Lucifer’s Den twenty minutes later. The bar is gloomy, illuminated by red neon lights, hence its name. It really does feel like we’re entering the devil’s den. The second Alex hung up, I jumped out of bed, changed out of my pajamas into sweatpants and a T-shirt, and bolted into Morgan’s car. Luckily, there weren’t any bouncers at the door.

  I spot Alex arguing with someone by the coat check. The manager most likely.

  “Alex!” I wave, and his shoulders drop in relief.

  He crosses the distance between us in one stride, then stops, analyzing his surroundings. “Morgan didn’t come with?”

  Wait, was that disappointment in his voice? I see. He was hoping this would give him an excuse to see her.

  “No. She stayed back.”

  He snaps out of it. “Okay. Will’s at the bar. You have five minutes tops before they call the cops.”

  I turn away.

  “Kass, wait.” Alex grabs my arm. “He broke a bottle. There’s glass everywhere. Watch your step.”

  This is worse than I thought.

  I nod, diving deeper into the crowd and seeking Will’s built frame at every corner. Then I see him. Hunched over the bar, gesturing to the bartender, who seems hell-bent on ignoring him.

  “What kind of bullshit business is this?” I hear Will spit as I close in on him. “Now we can’t get another drink at a fucking bar?” The ironic part is, he’s got a half-full beer in front of him.

  “Nah, it’s just you who can’t get a drink, mate. Take a hint,” the bartender retorts with a thick British accent as he attends to other customers, all of whom are throwing Will nasty glances.

  Not having it, Will rises from his stool, ready to flip the guy off, but my hand flies to his shoulder before he can open his mouth. Surprised, he turns around—okay, more like staggers—completely wasted. I can’t possibly translate his features when he frowns, taking me in.

  I expect him to be angry.

  Sad.

  So, you can imagine my surprise when he starts laughing.

  “Wow, either I’m really drunk…” He sticks a finger in my face. “Or you look exactly like my girlfriend.”

  My pulse gives a jolt at his choice of words. Girlfriend, huh? Does that mean we’re still together?

  “Oh, wait, you are my girlfriend.” He snorts.

  “Will, come on, we need to go.” I move closer, grasping his arm. “They’re going to call the cops on you.”

  Why doesn’t this place have freaking bouncers?

  He shakes me off him, irritated.

  “What are you doing here, control freak?”

  The nickname stings me skin-deep. This is the first time he’s called me that with a negative undertone.

  “Stopping you from landing a criminal record, that’s what.”

  “Why? I thought you were done with me,” he hisses.

  I pause.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Isn’t that what your message said? That you wouldn’t text me anymore? That you were going to…” He makes quotation marks with his fingers. “Drop my shit at Alex’s?”

  Fuck.

  Is that why he’s acting out?

  My text?

  “Whatever, I’m over you. You can go now.” He shows me the door, taking a swaying step forward and nearly tripping.

  I hold him up. “Look at you. You can barely walk. Let me take you home.”

  “Can’t. Don’t have one. But you know what I do have?” He stares me dead in the eyes. “A junkie mother who likes to OD in motel bathrooms.”

  It feels like he just wrenched a knife into my chest.

  “Shit, that’s right, you knew that already.” He heaves a bitter laugh. “My bad. I’ll be more careful next time you follow me against my will.”

  I can’t get into this with him right now.

  “You’re coming with me.” I tug on his arm.

  He won’t budge. “Like hell I am.”

  In one last, desperate attempt to save his ass,
I cup his face, forcing our eyes to meet. “Look at me. If you stay here, you’re going to get arrested, do you get that?”

  They could charge him with underage drinking, disorderly intoxication, disorderly conduct. The list goes on and on.

  “Will, I’m begging you.”

  He clenches his jaw, maintaining the eye contact, debating between options for a few seconds. Then he says the single most beautiful word I’ve heard all night.

  “Fine.”

  “One last step,” I caution, using the little strength I have left to help Will up the stairs. The guy is far from a lightweight. As soon as we got to Morgan’s house, I knew I needed to put him to bed. He was talking nonsense the entire ride home, rambling on about how he didn’t need my help. Or anyone’s help. That he never did before.

  And wouldn’t start now.

  He’s been on his own for so long, he’s convinced himself anyone who gets close to him is waiting with one foot out the door. Ready to bail at the first sign of trouble.

  I would’ve had to be blind to miss Morgan’s face when she found out I’d invited Alex to crash on her couch. She waited up for us and clearly wasn’t expecting to see Alex stumble through her front door, but it was obvious Will wasn’t the only one who’d had too much, and I felt bad leaving him there.

  Plus, the way he looked at Morgan when he saw her in her tiny pajama shorts and tight tank top suggests she might thank me tomorrow.

  “Come on.” I drag Will to Morgan’s guest room, nudging the already unfastened door open with my elbow and venturing inside. “Here you go.” I unlink Will’s arm from my shoulders, guiding him down onto the bed as gently as my lack of muscles allows me to.

  I expect to hurry back to Morgan’s bedroom, pass out, and take it up with him tomorrow, but it doesn’t seem to be in the cards for me because Will tugs on my hand, jerking me on top of him so suddenly a small screech escapes me.

  His lips come down on mine before I can blink, sending my pulse through the roof. Part of me knows this is not the right time, but the other is relieved. In disbelief that this is happening.

  I thought I’d lost him.

  So, when he pins me down under him, slides his tongue into my mouth, and curves a hand inside my sweatpants… I let him. I’m not wearing any underwear, which gives him clear access to my—