Forgotten Rules (Rules 4)

I snap out of it. “I didn’t take you for a Jell-O shot guy.”

“Yeah, well…” He surprises me by stepping closer. “That just goes to show maybe you should get to know me better.”

Flustered by the sudden proximity, I move away, but the back of my thighs bump against the kitchen table, halting my escape. The smug bastard continues to lean in, cutting off my air supply and enjoying it. I’ve got zilch to go on when it comes to this guy’s intentions, so I do the only thing I can: swallow hard and wait for him to make a move—any move.

Finally, he does.

He drops his red Jell-O shot on the table behind me, “accidentally” grazing my arm in the process, and pulls back. Like nothing happened. Like he wasn’t this close to my face seconds ago. That’s his thing. Giving me just enough to make me wonder. Just enough to make me doubt my sanity.

He leaves behind enough bread crumbs to keep me chasing.

But never enough to be caught.

Am I crazy? Did I imagine it all?

Beats me.

Only… this time is different.

There’s a look in his eyes—a knowing look. It unveils the truth, exposes him for what he is. A cruel tempter. He’s doing this on purpose. He likes seeing me shudder.

The question is why.

“Think I know you pretty well already, Willy.” I collect myself. “You know, unless you go around telling your life story to everyone.”

My reference to the biography he graced me with the night he snuck into my room blows him out of the water. I’m right and he knows it. I’d be surprised if he told many people about what happened to his dad. I’m not even sure Kendrick knows.

“Where are your girls?” he deflects.

“With yours.” I motion to Callie, Morgan, and Zoey laughing by the door.

His eyes remain locked on me.

“My what?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Isn’t she your date?” I remind him.

“Oh, right… Yeah, I guess she is.” He looks like he doesn’t give a rat’s ass.

Eager to take the edge off, I begin fumbling with my beer cap, hoping it’s a twist-off—it’s not. Will scoffs, snatching the beer out of my hands and popping the cap in no time.

Breaking news: it is a twist-off.

I’m just weak as shit.

“Got enough alcohol in you to tell me why you’re mad at me yet?” He hands me my beer.

His bluntness stuns me.

Am I really that obvious?

“I—”

“There you are.”

Callie materializes out of nowhere, enveloping Will’s waist with her arms and clinging to his side. He doesn’t hug her back, but… he also doesn’t push her off.

“We’re playing Spill It or Drink It. Come on.” Callie releases him from her embrace, tugging on his arm, but he resists.