Forgotten Rules (Rules 4)

“Of course not. He called me last night, telling me to let you go, but I told him I’m not losing the best employee I’ve had in years because he’s got a bruised ego. He’ll get over it. It’s not the first time he’s sent one of his crushes my way, you know?”

Her revelation shocks me.

“You’re the fourth. Two of them quit, the other one was let go because she was always late, but not because he asked me to fire them. Which he did. Every single time. What kind of boss would I be if I fired my employees without cause every time my nephew asks me to?”

I must have something in my eye, because a tear threatens to leak down my cheek. Embarrassed, I blink back my emotions. God, I’m such a baby, but I really thought I was out of a job. I’ve never been more relieved.

“Oh, honey, come here.” Isabella captures me into a quick embrace. I remember thinking she was a cold woman. I was wrong. Once she warms up to you, she’s the best boss you could ask for. “You’re not fired. Get that out of your head.”

“Thank you so much.”

We say our goodbyes and part ways. I jog to my car, coming to terms with my guilt. I don’t regret stringing Luke along anymore. Yes, I made mistakes with him, but I owned up to them and apologized. To know that I wasn’t the first. That he uses his aunt to get his way. That’s low.

Sliding into the passenger seat, I check my phone for the first time in hours. No new messages from Will—my bad, I didn’t answer him earlier.

I text back quickly.

Kass: I miss you too. How’s everything going?

I’m aware I should be mad at him for point-blank ignoring my “I love you” this morning, but right now, all I want to do is tell him about Luke’s stunt. Sure, he may not be ready for the L word yet, but I have to believe he does have feelings for me. You can’t just fake last night. Maybe he needs more time.

That must be it.

I wait for a reply, sitting in my car pointlessly for a few minutes. Not a peep. He warned me he’d be busy, so I don’t think much of it, fire up the engine, and drive off.

Will

The next day

Sprawled across Alex’s couch with Winter, Kendrick, Alex, Blake, and Nicole, I ignore the buzzing off my phone in my pocket and fight the urge to open her text. The fight is today, a few hours away to be exact, and while Kendrick’s been training since dawn, the anxiety is chipping at my sanity.

Kendrick and his psycho ex Nicole told the group they were back together a few minutes ago. Said it happened yesterday at the kegger, which explains why Kendrick didn’t come home all night. I’m not saying I don’t like Nicole, but… let’s just say if Kendrick is half as bad at fighting tonight as he is at picking girls, we’re fucked.

Blake has been acting weird as hell since we got here. He looks pissed at me, staring bullets into my forehead every chance he gets—not that I’m surprised. I beat his ass at training yesterday. Even gave him a black eye by “accident.” It took everything I had not to blurt out, “That’s for fucking Zoey,” when I sent him straight to the mat.

“I have to take a piss.” I bound to my feet, setting off for the bathroom. When I walk back out fifteen minutes later, the living room is deserted. I’m assuming they relocated upstairs to prepare Winter for what she’s going to see tonight. The fights are no picnic. We can’t have her fainting on punch number one.

I trail into the kitchen and grab a beer out of the fridge—maybe it’ll take the fucking edge off—but before I can open it, Blake’s voice erupts behind me.

“Hey, man.”

I whisk my head back to find him reclining against the counter, arms folded over his chest.

“Hey?” I twist the beer cap off.

“I wanted to ask you… How’s Kass?”

I stop moving.

“Or should I say how was Kass? The pussy still good?”

The beer nearly slips out of my hands.

&n

bsp; How the hell does he know that?

“Don’t look so surprised. People talk.”