Forgotten Rules (Rules 4)

“Sorry about the delay. We’re getting our asses kicked out there.” He hands me the takeout bag.

“Don’t worry about it.” I offer him the fifty Zoey threw at me like it was nothing. She won’t miss it. “Keep the change. For your trouble.”

“Damn. Gorgeous and generous? Must be my lucky day.” He shoots me a seductive grin before retreating down the hall.

Something about him reminds me of Will. Maybe it’s the dimples, the attitude, or merely the way he carries himself. I can’t quite put my finger on it. I instantly want to smack myself for thinking about he-who-shall-not-be-named. I’ve tried everything. Deleting his number. Avoiding him like the plague. Nothing worked.

No matter what I do, I can’t shake him.

Next step is putting a penny into a jar every time I let him in. Or getting one of those elastic bracelets you snap on your wrist.

Sauntering to Zoey’s bedroom, I give Morgan her food and plop down on the bed next to her. Zoey pads into the bedroom in a towel fifteen minutes later. She hasn’t even taken two bites of her fried rice before she’s slapping foundation onto her bare face. Because, you know… priorities.

“So… Kass?” She winces mid-eyeliner-application. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Why do I feel like I’m going to be pissed?

“What?”

“Promise you won’t be mad.”

I brace myself for the worst. “Zoey, what did you do?”

“I might’ve… sort of slipped up when I was inviting people to the party.”

That’s all it takes.

She invited Will, didn’t she?

“You didn’t,” I beg.

“I’m sorry. It’s just… I invited this cute Alex guy because he’s single and I have a friend I want to set up and… Will was there. What was I going to do? Only invite his friend and tell him to shove it?”

I don’t bother arguing, falling backward onto Zoey’s unmade bed and groaning into my hands. I fessed up to the girls about what happened at the tree house

. Morgan, being her supportive self, made a priority of telling me I deserved better every five seconds. As for Zoey, well…

We all know how that turned out.

Either way, I’ll be seeing Will tonight.

Will

“How the hell are you still going? You should be on the floor,” Blake accuses, ironically leaping off the mat himself. Wiping the drizzle of sweat off his forehead with a towel, he feels his jaw with a wince. Can’t blame him. I wouldn’t have wanted to be on the receiving end of that last punch.

“What? Am I too much for you, grandma?” I taunt.

“He’s right,” Alex cuts in from outside the arena. “What’s up with you? You juicing or something?”

“I told you, I just got a shit ton of energy lately,” I lie, watching Blake slink out of the ring. “Hey! Where are you going?”

“Where do you think?” He snorts. “It’s been five hours. I’m going home and taking a fucking shower.” Blake grabs his shit, heading for the exit.

“Coward,” I call, and he flips me off as he walks. “Alex, you down?”

“I’m good.” Alex shakes his head. “Think I’m going to bail, too.”

Kendrick skipped training again today. The fight with Haze will soon be at our door, but Blake insists Kendrick isn’t ready to slide back into his routine and get his hands dirty.