Page 81 of Rule Breakers Fall Hardest

She picks up the second half of the burger and inspects it. “It’s that good.”

“Glad you like it.”

“I haven’t been here before.” She surveys the restaurant, chin lifted high. “How’d you know about it?”

“Uh…” I scratch at my chest and consider a little white lie, but in the end, I go with the truth. “Covey mentioned it. His mom works here.”

“Luke?”

I nod and pop a fry into my mouth. “Yeah, but he doesn’t know that I know that. A couple of years ago, he mentioned that this place had the best burgers. I came by myself once, and his mom happened to be my waitress—I only know because she asked if I went to Aldridge, and when I said yes, we got to talking, and when she found out I played hockey, she said she was his mom. I don’t see her today.” I look around to be sure.

“He seems nice. For a hockey player,” she adds with a wink.

I press a hand over my heart. “You wound me, Mrs. Hendricks.”

I’m not sure exactly what made me call her that, but I’m rewarded with the pink flushing from her neck all the way up her cheeks.

“I can’t believe I’m admitting this,” the pink somehow gets brighter in color, “but in middle school, I wrote that all over my notebooks.”

“What?” I grin, feeling lighter than I think I have in years. I know exactly what she’s talking about, but I want to hear her say it.

She rolls her eyes. “Mrs. Hendricks,” she says softly.

“Glad to know you always wanted me.”

She tosses a fry at me. “Shut up.”

It’s surprising, how easy this is. The camaraderie. The connection.

It’s almost like we’ve been friends all along.

20

ROSIE

On my wayout of class, I dig my phone out of my pocket and groan at the name flashing on the screen. I normally don’t mind talking to my mom, but I have a feeling I know why she’s calling, and I’m not in the mood for this conversation.

I’m tempted to ignore the call, but she’s persistent, so it’ll only be a matter of time before she’s ringing again.

I duck into an alcove and swipe to answer.

“Hey, Mom.” I sound far more cheery than I feel.

She launches right in. “I made an appointment for you at a bridal store in Nashville to try on dresses. It’s?—”

“Mom,” I interrupt, “I really can’t be thinking about dresses right now. Christmas is almost here and—” I bite my tongue. We still haven’t told our families about Sammy.

We had a home inspection a few days ago—after we babyproofed the house and got started on the nursery, at least. The wallpaper finally came and is being put up this week. Now, if only the furniture would show up. Just about everything we picked out is on backorder, and they keep changing the dates on me. I’ll have to cancel and order furniture elsewhere if it can’t be delivered in the next couple of weeks. Sammy might not be my child, but I want his room to be special. Maybe that’s silly. A room is a room.

“I know Christmas is almost here,” she huffs. “I’m still upset that you’re not coming to see us.”

“Daire and I want to be here, just the two of us, for our first Christmas,” I lie.

In reality, it has nothing to do with us wanting to be alone. We’re supposed to get another supervised meeting with Sammy on Christmas Eve.

“I have an idea!”

I pinch my brow and close my eyes, guessing where she’s going with this.

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