Fair Game (The Rules 1)

“Oh come on, you have to go. You don’t want to disappoint Joel, do you?” She sets the curling iron down on the table. “Jade, you can’t let Shep win. If he’s going to be a dick, then you’re going to turn into his worst nightmare come to life. I’m serious. Wouldn’t it be awesome if you show up at that party looking smokin’ hot and he sees you? He’ll be salivating after you and you can tell him to go fuck himself. He’ll regret everything and you’ll get some satisfaction by telling him off.”

Is it wrong that I sort of like this idea? Looking sexy as hell and watching Shep’s eyes bug out of his head as I walk into the house on Joel’s arm? Yeah, he’d look at Joel like he was nothing, but it wouldn’t matter. I’d look at Shep like he was nothing.

Because he is. He’s nothing to me.

Absolutely, positively nothing.

“You can wear that cute little denim skirt like you did last time or…oh! I know what you can wear.” Kelli dashes off toward the closet and throws it open, digging around until she pulls out a tiny pair of denim cutoff shorts. “I just bought these. I want you to wear them.”

Kelli’s shorter than me. I could probably shove myself into those shorts but I’d be all legs. “Don’t you think my butt cheeks will hang out of them?”

She shoves the shorts into my hands, a giant smile on her face. “Yes. Isn’t that the point? You’ll drive him out of his mind.”

“Who? Joel?” More like give him the wrong message.

“No, not Joel.” She rolls her eyes. “Shep.”

I shake my head. “I can’t wear these. I’ll look like I’m trying too hard.”

“You’re wearing them. And you’re going to look fucking amazing in them. I know it.” She waves a hand at me. “Try them on.”

“Seriously?” I hold them up, examining the frayed edges. Oh, these are short. My ass cheeks will definitely hang out the back of these shorts.

“Do it. Right now.” Kelli snaps her fingers and with a sigh I shove off my cotton shorts, grab the cutoffs and slip them on.

They fit perfectly. Crap. I go to the full-length mirror that hangs on the wall and examine myself. My makeup is half on, my hair is in a sloppy bun on top of my head and I look like I have legs for miles.

Miles and miles and miles.

“Oh yeah.” Kelli comes up just behind me, beaming. “You are definitely wearing those shorts.”

“Were you going to wear them?” I ask weakly, turning to the side. Oh my God. “Because I don’t want to take them from you. And my ass is practically hanging out. Look at me.” What the hell am I doing? Trying to impress Shep who probably won’t even be there? So I’ll end up wasting all of this time and a perfectly good outfit for nothing. And I might end up setting Joel on fire too, the very last thing I want to do.

I like Joel, but I have no plans on dating him again. Even though I consider him more my speed, it wouldn’t be fair of me to pretend I’m interested in him when I…am interested in someone else.

“Fucking Shep Prescott.” I turn to face Kelli, who’s practically bouncing up and down and clapping her hands. I’ve changed my mind. I am so wearing this. Fuck him. “We need to find the skimpiest top in this closet. Whether it’s mine or yours, I’m wearing it tonight.”

“On it.” Kelli salutes me before she starts skimming through the closet. “How about a tank top? That’s sexy without trying too hard.”

“Perfect.” I reach up and take the band from my hair, shaking it out so it tumbles past my shoulders, almost to the middle of my back. He likes it best when my hair is down. He likes to see my freckles too so I won’t wear any foundation or powder tonight. I’ll play up my eyes instead. Wear a pretty pink lipstick that makes my lips look big. Give him exactly what he wants.

And then walk away from him without a second glance.

“I can’t believe you convinced me to come to this fucking party,” I mutter as I glance around the room, watching everyone with disdain. Yeah, I’m acting the prick. Reveling in it really because fuck me, I’m frustrated. Frustrated with everyone, but especially myself.

“You’ve been such a dick, I figured a night of drinking would do you some good.” Tristan points at the red cup I’m holding. “So bottoms up dude.”

I chug the weak beer, wishing for something stronger. Harder. Preferably vodka. Tristan’s right. I’ve been a total dick. I need to get wasted. Drown my problems with booze and hope to hell I’ll black out by the end of the night.

Anything to help me forget Jade.

“You need to find a girl too,” Tristan says, scanning the room, whistling low. “We definitely have our pick tonight.”

I don’t bother looking. Instead, I stare at the bottom of my cup, which is now disappointingly empty. “No chicks,” I mutter.

“What?” I glance up to find Tristan staring at me like I’ve lost my damn mind. “Are you serious? You definitely need a chick. Fuck the pain away. Isn’t there a song called that?”

I have no idea what he’s talking about. “Women are trouble. Every single one of them,” I mutter, thinking of one in particular. Though she did no wrong. She was fucking perfect. Sucking my dick like she practically got off on it and instead of showing my eternal gratitude—what I should’ve done, I’d been dreaming of those fucking perfect cock sucking lips from the moment I first met her—I pushed her away. Took her home, dropped her off without even a kiss to remember me by and never called her again.