Unwritten Rules (Rules 1)

“The view was worth it, wasn’t it?” He carelessly runs a hand through his hair.

Oh for fuck’s sake. Does he do attractive things on purpose, or is he just naturally irresistible?

Yep. Same old question.

“Why was it so important that I came with you?”

“Do you ever stop asking questions, Kingston?” A hint of exasperation can be seen in his features.

“Do you ever stop avoiding them, Adams?”

“Nope.”

“Jerk.”

“Prude.”

I can’t help but smile. I look at him from the corner of my eyes to see his lips twitching into a smile, as well.

“We’re here.”

He exits the highway and takes an unexpected turn onto a gravel road. I try to see—key word: try—but can’t discern anything except for the vague shapes illuminated by the headlights of the car. A sign that reads “cul-de-sac” quickly passes on my left.

“Because that’s not creepy at all.”

His smile only grows wider.

Haze finally parks the car, pushes the gear into park, and kills the engine. He then turns off the headlights. We both get out of the vehicle, and what I see immediately takes my breath away.

We’re on a beach. An enormous one. There’s a complete absence of light, which reveals the most beautiful view I have ever seen. It’s an endless sea of stars.

I can’t remember the last time I saw so many.

“It’s insane,” I say quietly, almost to myself as he walks toward the back of the car to open the trunk.

“How’d you find out about this place?”

“Happy accident.”

“You said you wanted to show me something that only happens tonight?”

“Yes, there’s a meteor shower later. You’re going to be glad I blackmailed you, you’ll see.”

My eyes widen tremendously as my lips part in shock. Is he serious? He gave up on annoying the living hell out of Kendrick for a meteor shower date on an empty beach?

He comes back to the front of the car, one of his hands full and the other checking the time on his phone.

“We have two hours to kill.”

I look down at what he’s holding. Blankets.

“How sweet. You got us blankets?” I tease. “Where’s the picnic?”

He scoffs. “Oh no, these are for me. I only share my blankets with people who give me thank-you kisses.”

I flush.

“You still haven’t let that go, huh?”