Forgotten Rules (Rules 4)

“Later.” His voice is as dry as it gets. “We’re in the middle of somethi—”

“Hey.” A masculine voice reaches my ear.

What seems to be annoyance crosses Will’s features. I whip my head to find the reason for his mood swing is none other than Luke.

“Hey, Luke.” I manage a weak smile.

What’s with the whole planet interrupting us tonight?

“Come on, they’re waiting.” Callie tugs on Will’s arm again, bored with our conversation, but he barely acknowledges her.

“Been looking for you. You still owe me that dance, you know.” Luke smiles.

I open my mouth to answ—

“Kass, you coming?” Will cuts in.

I look up at him.

“We have a game to play,” he presses.

Taken aback, I stammer, “I-I don’t know the rules.”

“Rule, singular. You answer the question or take a shot. The end,” Callie explains before her eyes flash with a naughty idea. Pushing to her tiptoes, she whispers in Will’s ear, “Or… we could go play a game of our own upstairs.”

Hell no.

“I’ll play if you play.” My hand lands on Luke’s forearm, reigniting the distant hope in his eyes.

As his smile grows, my self-respect shrinks.

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“Sure, why not?” Luke agrees.

I lock eyes with a tight-jawed Will just as Callie’s dragging him out to the living room. I shamble behind, unable to shake the feeling that I just started a dangerous, whole other type of game.

And the scary part?

I don’t think I can win.

Sitting on the floor, I prop my head back against Natasha’s—or whoever the owner of this place is—washing machine and wonder how I ended up here. Drinking tequila right out of the bottle in a stranger’s laundry room. Not that I’m complaining. The living room was crawling with sweaty party animals. The boys stumbled upon this closed space wandering around the house.

“I think I’m going to sit this one out.” Morgan rises to her feet.

“Everything okay?” I stop her.

“I’m fine. Just need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back.”

I ask her around twenty more times if she’s feeling okay before letting her go halfheartedly. Speaking of bathrooms, Winter must’ve discovered a secret door leading to another dimension in there because she never came back.

Ironically, that’s when my phone lights up with a text from her.

Winter: Went home. Don’t worry about me.

I take in my surroundings. Zoey’s sitting on the dryer, feet hanging in the air, while Luke sits by my side. Across from us, squashed between a drying rack and a folding station, are Will and Callie. We’re all pretty wrecked from passing the tequila bottle around for thirty minutes.

“Are we playing this game or what?” Zoey’s complaint swings us into action.