Forgotten Rules (Rules 4)

I texted Zoey that Morgan was sick and it was time to call it a night over twenty minutes ago. Took her ten to answer, but finally, she did, promising she’d come and get us once the Uber is here.

Slipping inside the bathroom where I found Morgan, I wince at my reflection in the mirror. I threw my disgusting alcohol-steeped dress back on. The stain isn’t that bad, but the smell… Safe to say this dress met its expiration date.

Twisting the tap open, I fill up a glass I swiped from the kitchen and curse under my breath when the door creaks open behind me. I set the glass down and spin on my heels, ready to tell some random, drunk guy to get lost.

Except it’s not some random guy.

It’s Will.

Red-eyed, drunk as hell, cockier-than-ever Will. Looking me up and down, he doesn’t say a word, walks in—

And slam

s the door.

Kassidy

“What do you want?” I say, images of Callie eating his face off still fresh in my mind. Boiling on the inside, I divert my attention to my reflection, waiting for him to take a hint and leave.

He doesn’t.

“Just here to talk to my friend. Or is that not allowed?”

I only hear one word.

Friend.

He stalks toward me, testing my resolve. Just ignore him, Kass. My body may not give him the attention he seeks, but my heart does. My heart is giving him attention all right. It’s pounding like a goddamn idiot right now.

“I’m leaving. You should go back to the party,” I mutter.

That’s his snapping point.

“Okay. Just say it.”

His outburst catches me off guard.

I spin. “Say what?”

“Whatever it is that’s got you acting so weird. You’re mad at me. Why?”

Shit.

“I’m not mad.” Even I don’t believe me.

“Cut the crap. You’ve been cold as shit to me. You can’t even look at me. Just fucking say it, Kass.”

Deep down, I know exactly what the true answer to his question is: I’m not mad at him. I’m mad at myself. No, I’m furious at myself for catching feelings for the guy who has none.

But am I going to tell him that?

Heck no.

Instead, I inhale a deep breath, opting for the response I don’t mean. It’s my only chance, the only way I’ll come out of this unscathed.

“I… I think we should stop talking.”

“What?” He frowns, his tone a mix of anger and confusion.