Forgotten Rules (Rules 4)

Is me.

It becomes that much harder to breathe. He won’t flinch. Not for one second. The craziest part is, I have no idea if that thing in his gaze is hate…

Or desire.

Intimidated, I split the eye contact, only to realize the others have already moved on to the next question. I can’t seriously be the only one noticing this tension. Jesus. It isn’t nearly long enough before Zoey’s turn rolls back around. I know she’s got a plan in mind when she shoots Callie a mischievous look.

What now?

“Will, who’s the person you fantasized about in this circle?”

I can’t blame her. She’s only trying to help her friend out. So why do I feel betrayed?

“Is that even a question?” Callie snorts confidently.

Again, Will’s eyes find me.

For fuck’s sake, he’s got to stop doing that. He’s going to give me a heart attack.

Then, because my life is a bad joke, the exact moment Will looks at me is the moment Luke decides to grow some balls and make a move, sliding his hand up my bare thigh. Will sees it, his glare shadowing Luke’s movement.

“Hello?” Zoey urges. “Answers?”

Callie chuckles. “How’s that for an answer?”

She doesn’t waste a single second, gripping Will’s face with both hands and smashing their mouths together for a slow, heated kiss. He doesn’t kiss her back.

Until… he does.

She adds tongue.

He lets her.

That’s how I know I have to fucking go. Because Morgan was right. My brain can deny it, but the ache in my chest doesn’t lie.

It’s more than physical.

I like him.

I like Will.

And I wish I was the one kissing him right now.

“I’m going to go check on Morgan,” I tell Zoey and rush out of the laundry room without so much as a goodbye. By the time Luke calls my name, I’ve already rejoined the raging party and lost myself into the crowd.

I triple text Morgan, check the first-floor bathrooms to no avail, and run into Alex, who tells me he found her puking her guts out in the upstairs bathroom. Anxiety and guilt grip me. I should’ve checked on her ages ago.

I knock once. “Morgan? Are you okay? It’s me.”

“Come in,” the faintest of voices replies.

Zoey’s words crawl back into my brain as I burst into the bathroom to find Morgan half-passed-out on the toilet seat.

Amazing night, huh?

Amazing, my ass.

“I’ll be right back with some water,” I assure Morgan, heading out of the vacant bedroom I transferred her into. Lying on the king bed in a star position, she rambles on about how she’ll never drink again. Funny enough, in contrast to the many drunk girls I’ve heard say that at parties in the past, I actually believe her.