Page 21 of Rule Breakers Fall Hardest

My mouth goes dry and my heart just about leaps out of my chest.

Rosie’s gorgeous. There’s no denying that on any given today. But in this moment, she’s fucking radiant. Her dark hair is pulled back into some sort of low bun thing, with a few shorter pieces framing her face. Her lips are lined in a vibrant red, and her white dress makes her tan skin almost golden.

I can barely breathe as I take in the thin cutouts along the fabric at her waist that reveal just a hint of bare skin on each side. Without my permission, my eyes continue their perusal. The dress has a high slit—but not too high to be inappropriate. It’s not revealing—the top of the dress fully covers her breasts, and its sleeves probably help stave off the October chill—but god damn is it sexy.

With the way my cock strains against my pants, I send up a silent prayer to whatever god might be listening that Rosie doesn’t notice.

“Sorry,” she says, adjusting her dress. “I had to redo my eye makeup. I messed up my wing, and when I tried to clean it up, it just… well.” She waves a dismissive hand. “I had to start over.”

I latch on to one word from that spiel. “Wing?”

“My eyeliner wing.” She points to her face.

“Oh.” I nod like I have the slightest clue what she’s talking about.

“Ready?” she asks, smoothing a hand down her dress—her nails painted a bright red that matches her lips.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Laughing, she starts for the stairs. “You act like I’m the one dragging you here. Come on, Hendricks, let’s get hitched.” She crooks a finger for me to follow.

With my heart in my throat, I hurry to catch up with her. If I don’t, then I’m going to stare at her ass the whole way up the stairs to the main door.

Did I step into some fucked-up alternate universe this morning? It’s the only explanation for why I’m checking Rosie out.

In the vestibule, I scan the directory posted on the wall, my hand automatically falling to her waist. She moves away instantly, so I let my hand drop. Shit. I’m already fucking things up. Sure, we need to make this look real, but it doesn’t mean I get to touch her when no one is around.

“This way.” My voice is gruff, annoyed, though I’m irritated more at myself than her.

If I had been smart rather than thinking with my dick, I wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.

Once we’ve found the correct office, we check in and hand over all our paperwork.

Rosie loops her arm through mine and leans into me. “Isn’t he just so handsome?” she asks the bored receptionist, squeezing my cheek like my annoying aunt did when I was a boy.

“Mhm.” The woman hums. “Here you go.” She passes the papers back to me. “Go through those doors.” She points to a large set of wooden double doors at the end of the long hall. “There are a few couples ahead of you, so just sit and wait.”

“Thanks.” Rosie lets me go as we head toward our fate.

“Wait!” The voice is high pitched and one I don’t recognize.

Beside me, Rosie freezes, so I take her cue and stop too.

“Oh my God, no,” she groans.

In unison, we turn around and come face to face with her friend…Belinda? Becca? Something with a B, right?

“Bertie, what are you doing here?” she asks as the girl click-clacks down the hall to catch up.

“You need a witness!” She waves her hand wildly above her head as she reaches us. “And I volunteer as tribute!”

“Bertie.” Rosie hangs her head. “There are already witnesses here.”

“Yeah, but don’t you want your friend here?” She frowns, her eyes growing round as saucers.

I swear if the girl starts crying, I’m going to lose my shit.

“And what about pictures? You need someone to take photos! I know you plan on having a real wedding, but this is still technically your wedding day. If you don’t have pictures, you’ll regret it.”

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