Unspoken Rules (Rules 2)

I knew if I didn’t, we’d end up studying each other.

Time flies, and before I realize it, Haze is pulling up to the longest driveway I’ve ever seen. High fences keep me from feeling poor at the sight of the most likely huge property they conceal. Haze stops the car in front of the black gate blocking the way and rolls his window down.

“Identifications, please,” a deep voice says. I squint my eyes, looking for the intercom. It’s well hidden by thick roots growing on each side of the gate.

Haze smiles.

“No way. Daryl, man, you still work here?” he asks.

The person on the other end doesn’t speak for a while.

“No, it can’t be. Haze, is that you?”

“In the flesh.”

A loud beep follows and the gates open in a shriek. Haze speeds onto the road he seems to know very well, the distant house bordered by what seems to be acres of land taking my breath away. A water fountain stands in the middle of the driveway, making me wonder what other crazy luxurious things the Adamses own. This is the kind of house you see in the movies.

And I thought their lake house was big…

“Your house’s bigger than the White House,” I say.

“My parents’ house,” he corrects me. “I know, it’s way too big for two people.”

I scoff. “Oh, it’s not just two people. There’s the maid, the gardener, the butler, the chef, the—”

“Okay, smart-ass. I get it.” He grins. A large number of cars—all equally expensive-looking—are neatly parked in front of the house. The driveway’s packed, which is why I’m not surprised to see valets patiently waiting for us. I assume they have an underground parking or something.

Of course they do.

Add up the value of this house and the cars in its driveway and I’m pretty confident you’d get more than Kendrick, Kass, Will, Alex, Maria, and I will ever make in our lifetime combined.

Out of place. That’s how I feel when one of the valets opens up my door and helps me out of the car.

“Miss,” he says politely.

Haze gets out as well and throws the keys at a valet he also seems to recognize. Everybody looks so happy to see him it makes me wonder how long they’ve been working for his parents. Haze kisses my cheek when he notices the nervous wreck that I am and offers me his arm to hold. Here comes the scary part. We’re going inside.

Quickly, heads turn and eyes grow in size. The oh so fancy people holding cocktail glasses look so uptight, my instinct is to look for the sticks coming out of their asses. They’re judging us. They’re judging me.

That’s when the need to disappear really hits.

Under the ridiculously expensive dress I’m wearing, I’m still me. The same old Winter who couldn’t buy herself another phone for months, and still wouldn’t be able to get one if it wasn’t for Haze, after she threw it in the toilet. I know that my stepfather, Harry, has been saving up to send me to college ever since I was a kid, but I’ll only access that money when I move back home.

And even then, it’s an amount people like this probably make every twenty minutes.

I don’t belong here. I never will.

“One hour and we’re gone,” Haze reminds me, sensing my panic. A waiter walks by us with a tray of champagne and stops dead in his track.

“Mr. Adams, we had no idea you were coming. It’s a pleasure to see you again,” he exclaims.

The whole staff is apparently in love with him.

Haze smiles. “Lawrence.”

“I’m sure your father will be very happy to see you,” he says.

“Well, that makes one of us.” Haze makes a face, and the waiter only lets himself laugh for a second before he forces his serious face back on. He probably shouldn’t be laughing at a joke about his boss. Something tells me Haze was the only member of the family treating his parents’ employees like human beings.