Unspoken Rules (Rules 2)

We are so kicked out.

“You are no longer welcomed in here, and we will make sure not to serve you if you come back.” That’s what the very angry man spat before showing us the door. We were kind of bummed out because we were starving and Beck’s is a nice place, but we quickly rebounded—and upgraded, to be honest—by picking another restaurant.

I didn’t dare ask Haze if his father owned parts of the restaurant we chose, but the way the staff treated him answered my question.

Everybody in Colton Gate knows he’s the Adams kid. They probably think that he could ruin their business with just one bad comment to his father.

“When’s your date with Riley?” I play with the strings of my sweater and lean back into my seat.

“You know it’s not a date,” he corrects me.

“Yeah, yeah, what time?”

He glances at the clock on his car dashboard. “Four thirty.”

It’s almost time. Only fifteen more minutes. We’ve been driving around town with no direction for a few hours. We spent the afternoon singing along to random songs on the radio and discussing topics that are probably way too dark for such a beautiful day. The conversation went from “What’s your favorite holiday?” to “What’s the point of life?” and “What was the first guy who thought it’d be a good idea to drink what came out of a cow thinking?”

Overall, today’s been a very simple day.

But I can’t remember the last time I was this happy.

“So… Riley.” I try to look unbothered. “What’s she like? Let me guess, tall, thin, gorgeous?”

“Now, Kingston, I might be dumb sometimes, but I’m not that dumb. I’m not answering that.” He pretends to zip his lips and throw away the key.

I laugh. He’s right. This question has no right answer. I can’t believe that I even care about that stuff.

“Clever boy. Picked up on a few of my tricks, didn’t you?” I crinkle my nose.

“I’m starting to.” He grins and takes a left, pulling up next to a coffee shop. He parks the car and kills the engine.

“So this is it, huh?” I read the sign above the building.

“Yeah.”

I don’t reply, staring ahead at nothing in particular.

“What is it?” He seems worried.

“What?”

“Something’s clearly eating at you. Spill it.”

I shift in my seat. “It’s nothing.”

He arches an eyebrow.

“Fine. It’s just that you said you were going through a rough patch when you broke up with her. So, technically, you two didn’t break up because you didn’t love her anymo—”

“I love you.”

An idiotic grin spreads across my face.

“I know exactly where you’re going with this, and the answer is no, I don’t have feelings for her anymore. I’m head over heels in love with you, Winter Kingston. Are we clear?”

My mouth falls open, and I find myself gawking at him like he’s just told me I can eat whatever I want for the rest of my life without ever getting fat.

Again with the food comparisons.