Page 1 of My Rules

Chapter 1

Blake

“I’m going to book the flights tonight,” I say as I push through the heavy glass door leading into the suit shop.

“No.” Henley sighs. “Do you even listen to me at all?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Antony smirks as he listens.

In a world full of chaos, there’s only one thing that I know for certain.

Family matters, and I’ll do everything in my power to take care of them, even if they don’t want me to.

I walk up the aisle of suits and begin to flick through them, annoyed. “You’re having a bachelor weekend whether you like it or not,” I tell him.

Henley is getting married, and it’s up to us to make sure we go all out to celebrate the occasion, because if Antony and I don’t make this happen ... who will?

“I don’t need a bachelor weekend,” Henley replies. “I just want a quiet poker night at home.”

“Ugh.” I roll my eyes. “This is why we are never getting married, Ant; damn woman has his balls in her purse. He’s that unbalanced; it’s a wonder he can fucking walk.”

Antony keeps looking through the suits. “What look are we going for here?”

“I don’t know, something weddingish,” Henley mutters, distracted.

“Well, what look do you want?” I snap, annoyed. “White jacket, black jacket, fucking green pants. Fairy. What?”

“What is up your ass today?” Henley fires back.

“You and your ridiculous notion of no bachelor weekend. It’s a rite of passage to go to Vegas to be wild, watch strippers, smoke cigars, and drink all the alcohol.”

Henley curls his lip in disgust. “Strippers could not be further from my mind.”

I exhale heavily and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Are you hearing this bullshit, Antony?”

“Unfortunately,” Ant replies as he keeps looking.

Henley answers his phone. “Hey.” He smiles as he listens. “Yeah, okay.” He glances up. “You two want to go to Marconi’s with the girls tonight?”

“Yeah.” Ant nods as he continues to flick through the suits.

“Nothing better to do, I guess,” I say with a shrug. I’m not interested in dinner; all I really want to do is lock in Vegas.

“Uh-huh,” Henley replies. “Just looking now.” He listens again. “I don’t know, send me a picture.” He twists his lips as he looks around the shop. “I can’t see any.”

“Is that Juliet?” I ask.

He nods, and I snatch the phone from his hand. “Jules.”

“Blake,” she replies. I can hear that she’s smiling.

“You need to talk to your pussy-whipped boyfriend; he thinks he isn’t having a bachelor weekend in Vegas.”

“Good,” she replies. “I’m good with that plan.”

“What is wrong with you people?” I roll my eyes. “I guess you’re having a knitting party for your bachelorette party, are you? Could you two be any more fucking boring?”

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