Unspoken Rules (Rules 2)
“An epic love story.”
I freeze in place.
I know that voice.
“Haze,” I say to myself.
I turn around and, because I’m the luckiest girl on earth, come face-to-face with the one person I was afraid to see tonight.
Shit, he looks hot.
It’s like the more I try to convince myself that he has no effect on me, the more handsome he looks. He’s wearing a plain black T-shirt. How is that enough to make me dizzy?
“What are you doing here?”
“Hello to you, too, gorgeous. I’m good. Thanks for asking.” He beams.
“Who’s this?” Mia asks.
I take a sip of my drink. I’m not nearly drunk enough for this.
“Me? Oh, I’m no one. Just her future husband.”
I start coughing, the liquor in my mouth going down the wrong pipe.
“Don’t choke, babe. We haven’t even gotten to ’til death do us part yet.”
Mia swallows a laugh and arches an eyebrow like she’s waiting for me to confirm his story. Problem is, I’m too busy trying not to suffocate. I finally manage to breathe properly again after a few seconds.
Did he just say that?
Like he can hear my every thought, he fills the distance between us, wraps his tattooed arm around my waist from behind, and presses his body to mine. I slightly gasp but don’t move away. I can’t. The truth is, I want to stay there. I wish his embrace didn’t feel this good. I wish he didn’t feel like home.
I finally gather the strength to step away from his hold when I notice a few people staring.
Mia laughs. “Future husband, huh?”
“Absolutely. She just doesn’t know it yet.” He takes a sip out of the red cup in his hand.
“Boyfriend?” Mia guesses.
“Ex,” I correct her.
Haze leans in just enough to brush my jaw with his lips and whisper in my ear, “Baby, you’re breaking my heart.”
Don’t you dare shiver. Don’t you dare sh…
Crap.
“Excuse me.” I throw Mia a polite smile before dragging Haze to a quiet spot—or as quiet as a spot can be in such a monster party—and push him into the corner, away from prying eyes. A deep laugh leaves his lips.
“You know, if you wanted to get me alone, all you had to do was ask.” He steps dangerously close to me, and I know from his even-more-cocky-than-usual behavior that he’s had a few drinks. I’m proved right when I smell the liquor on his breath. “You look stunning, by the way.” He captures my waist with both his hands, brings our bodies together, and draws circles over my stomach with his thumb. I catch myself wishing I wasn?
??t wearing a dress just so I could feel his fingers on my skin. I can’t lie. I still want him. Bad. Special thanks to my inhibitions for bailing on me when I need them the most.
“Don’t do that.” The words itch in my throat as I step back.
“Do what?” He pushes a strand of my hair away from my eye.