Page 7 of My Rules

“Oh, sorry.” I shake my head, embarrassed by my rudeness. “Blake, this is Michael. Michael, this is Blake, my friend.”

They both force a smile and shake hands. “Hello.”

Blake looks Michael up and down as if sizing him up. “And what do you do, Michael?” he asks.

“Security.”

Blake sips his beer. “It’s Saturday night; shouldn’t you be off ... securing something?”

A frown flashes across Michael’s face.

Oh my god, Blake can be such a rude prick when he wants to be. I widen my eyes at him.

Stop it.

“Just secured a date with this lovely lady, actually,” Michael fires back.

“Really?” Blake’s eyes flick to meet mine before giving him a sarcastic smile. “Good luck with that.”

What?

“Excuse us for a moment, Michael. Just walking Blake out.” I fake a smile as I pull Blake away by the arm. “See you.” Michael nods.

“Bye,” Blake replies without making eye contact.

“What the hell are you doing?” I whisper as I drag Blake toward the door.

“What the hell are you doing?” he fires back.

“I’m enjoying talking to a very nice man, and you’re being very rude.”

“Him.” He huffs. “He’s as far from a nice man as I’ve ever met.”

“You don’t even know him,” I scoff.

“Come on, Rebecca.” He rolls his eyes as we arrive at the front doors. “Your douchedar cannot be that way off.”

“Douchedar?” I frown. “What the hell is douchedar?”

“A douchebag radar.”

“Ha,” I snap. “He is not a douchebag.”

“And you know this how?” He puts his hands on his hips.

“I know him ... very well, actually,” I lie.

“Yeah, well, I can spot them a mile off, and he’s a king.”

“It takes one to know one.”

“Having fun does not make me a douchebag.” He fakes a smile. “Although dating one does make you stupid.” He kisses my cheek. “Good night, Rebecca.” He turns and walks out through the front doors, and I watch him disappear down the road.

Ugh . . . he’s so annoying.

I walk back to my place at the bar with Michael. “Who’s he?” he asks.

“Ahh.” This is awkward. “He’s my neighbor.” I force an embarrassed smile. “A friend.”

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