Unspoken Rules (Rules 2)

As it always does when I mention the word friend, discomfort and annoyance run through his traits. Or at least, I love to believe it.

“What do you need me to do?” He lowers his voice.

“What do you think of this one? Does it make my ass look big?” I spin to get an overall look in the mirror. He shifts from one foot to the other, chewing on his bottom lip.

“No… no, it doesn’t. It’s not too big. Not that it looks too small either, I mean… it’s okay. It’s perfect,” he rambles.

I smile.

Anyone who knows Haze knows he is not the speechless kind of guy. Moments like this are the only way I know I have any effect on him these days. His nervous answers, his furtive glances… they’re the only confirmation I have that I didn’t imagine everything that happened before the lake house.

He’s really going along with this friends thing, and it’s driving me crazy. What’s a girl got to do to get a guy to wake up around here? It’d be so much easier if I just confronted him about it, but he could’ve made a move on me multiple times by now, and he hasn’t. That’s got to mean something.

Maybe he’s just not that into me anymore.

“So I should go with this one?” I ask.

“Definitely.” He nods.

He makes sure to avoid looking at my body, sliding his hands into his pockets and fidgeting with his keys.

An idea comes to me.

“Do you think you could unzip me? I’ll change back into my dress tonight.” I pretend to struggle to reach the zipper.

He seems surprised by my request but agrees. He clears his throat again and walks toward me with hesitation lingering in his steps. Shivers erupt all over my body when he places one of his hands on my shoulder and pushes my hair to the front with the other. I see from his reflection that his jaw is clenched and his eyes are darker. He’s battling himself.

But over what?

He slowly brings the zipper to my lower back, his fingers accidentally brushing my skin on the way down. Or is it accidental?

When he’s done, he doesn’t pull away like I would expect him to. He stands there with his hand on my shoulder and his breath crashing against my neck. I can’t move a muscle.

The air hitches in my throat when he leans in and stops next to my ear. My pulse quickens, the anticipation of a move that might never come driving me mad. It’s been like this since the night I slept in my underwear. He somehow caught on to what I was doing and started giving me a taste of my own medicine. Either that or he developed an unexpected passion for walking around shirtless.

I’ve been sleeping in my underwear every night—say it with me: every freaking night—and nothing.

Nada.

Zero.

Not even a little cuddle.

The guy’s cold as stone.

We’ve been going back and forth like this for the past week, teasing each other and waiting for one of us to finally make the first move. He pulls, I push. We’re like magnets refusing to touch.

I don’t want to push anymore.

Right now, I want to surrender…

“I’ll wait for you downstairs,” he says and brings me out of a hypnotic daze. By the time I comprehend what just happened, he’s walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

“It’ll be fine. What are you so afraid of?” I ask as Haze and I step inside the elevator leading up to Vic and Bea’s place. He’ll never admit it, but anxiety has been eating at him since we left the house. I don’t know why reconnecting with his childhood best friend is so bad.

“I haven’t seen the guy in two years. It’s just… what if it’s weird?”

“It won’t be. I’m sure it’ll be like you were never apart.”