Page 52 of Unspoken Rules

“It’s not your fault,” he reiterates, taking another step closer to me. “This is your life. You need to do what makes you happy. That’s all that matters.”

I open my eyes, meeting his.

What makes me happy…

I look away as my eyes go blurry. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

This is my fault. If I had just listened to my father and gone to Harvard like he wanted me to, this wouldn’t have happened. Because I doubt this is the only thing he’s done. It’s never a one and done with Bart Montgomery. If he did one thing to Cole, he’s done more. Or plans to. If I had done what my father said, Cole would be doing so much better than he is right now. I blink a few times and look around the house.

Is that why he had so much time to do this? He did all of this because he couldn’t find work. Because my father was out talking shit to the town about him?

It’s why he does all these things now to help his business. All these things that are so not him, like going to charities and bringing food to the homeless.

“Bryson?” I don’t turn my head, instead I take in everything in this room. The beautiful craftsmanship of the molding. The colors, the perfection in everything. Cole does amazing work. He always has. How dare my father try to drag his name through the mud?

“Bryson, look at me,” he demands, this time gripping my chin and making me look into his crystal blue eyes. “Listen to me, and listen to me good.” I blink, taking in every word he says. His voice is so sexy. His lips. That stare. The way his fingers sear my skin because he hasn’t let go. The way he smells. It’s all so fucking good. “Bart’s choices are his, just like yours are yours. You live your life how you want to, and fuck anyone who tells you otherwise.”

How I want to…

My heart skips a beat.

Cole’s gaze is so intense as he watches me, silently begging for me to believe him. He darts his tongue out to lick his lips, and I catch the movement, focusing on his lips. Those full lips. I stare for a moment too long before going back to his eyes. They’ve softened the smallest bit. I have no idea what comes over me, but I lean in and kiss him.

I kiss Cole Harper, right here in his house. In his living room.

One second, two seconds, three—what the fuck am I doing?

I pull away, stepping back and out of his grip. My stomach threatens to throw up everything I’ve eaten and drank tonight.

What the hell did I just do?

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Cole!” I back further away, shaking my head. “Goddamnit!”

He stares at me, dumbfounded.

“Shit, I—” I can’t find any words, so I turn on my heel and rush down the hallway. “Goddamnit!” I growl as I pound up the stairs. I’m seriously so fucking stupid.

Once I’m in my room, I close and lock the door, kick off my shoes and climb into bed, burying myself under the covers.

What the fuck is wrong with me? How could I do something like that?

I can’t cross lines like this! Not in his house!

Cole’s footsteps sound in the hall, and there’s a gentle knock on the door. I ignore it. He’s going to tell me to get out, and I can’t handle that right now. Not tonight. And not that I want to deal with it in the morning, but I’ll have to. Because no way in hell can I look him in the eye after I kissed him. What happened with us in Astoria is history. It can never happen again.

The more I do lately, the more I realize the shit my father says about me is the truth.

Chapter Twenty

Bryson

15 years old…

I slam my door shut, jump into bed, and pull the blankets over my head.

I’m so angry my entire body is vibrating.

I’d spent hours on that drawing. Hours! I got first place and won an award, and all he did was tell me I’m wasting my time. That art is useless and won’t get me anywhere in life.

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