Page 32 of Rule Breakers Fall Hardest

He wheels it into my room and loads a box onto it.

“Where’s the truck? We’ll head down with these.”

“You’ll have to wait for me.” His biceps flex in a far too distracting way when he picks up a particularly heavy bin. “I locked it up before I came back in.”

“Paranoid?” I question him with an arched brow.

“Absolutely.” He stacks another bin on top of the first.

Bertie sets her box on the dresser while we wait for Daire to finish loading the dolly. He leads the way out the door and down the hall. While we’re waiting for the elevator, he taps his fingers against the top box, drawing my attention to the band on his finger. He’s not mine, but man does seeing that claim of possession fill me with a weird sort of satisfaction.

I look away before he can catch me staring.

Outside, Daire unlocks the back of the truck. Then he takes the boxes from Bertie and me, stacks them just inside the truck, and gets to work unloading the dolly and arranging my things near the front of the truck.

“You can wait down here if you want.” He hops out of theback. “There are only a couple left, so I can get them on my own. Unless there’s something else you need.”

“Can you grab my purse and backpack? They’re still in the closet.”

With a nod, he heads back to the entrance, leaving Bertie and me on the sidewalk. A gust of wind blows past us, making me wish I’d put a hoodie on. My short-sleeve shirt isn’t doing much to protect against the cold that’s beginning to leach into the air. It’s my own fault for desperately trying to cling to the last dredges of summer.

“Well.” Bertie turns to me, eyes downcast in an effort to hide her sad face. “This is it.”

As I take her in, I’m hit with an overwhelming wave of sadness. Girls typically don’t like me, but Bertie and I clicked from the instant we met.

“Stop making it sound like we’re never going to see each other.” I wipe away a lone tear. “You better come over for movie nights. I’ll come here too. And don’t forget our lunch dates.”

We’ve always met at the dining hall for lunch on Wednesdays. Even when she was dating Tommy.

She rolls her eyes. “You can’t get rid of me so easily.”

I throw my arms around her and squeeze her tight. Being thrown together with Bertie at the beginning of our freshman year was such a blessing. I couldn’t have made it these last three years without her. She’s been my only true friend all this time.

“I love you, Bertie.”

She laughs against me. “Stop getting sappy. You’re going to make me cry, and then my mascara is going to run. But I love you too.”

She waits with me on the sidewalk until Daire comes down with the last load of my stuff. He has my purse slung over his shoulder. I wish I could say he looks ridiculous, but with his confidence, he pulls off the look like it’s the latest trend. His wide shoulders stretch the fabric of his school hockey hoodie taut. I hate that my mind immediately wanders to thoughts of what it would feel like to have him over me, caging me in with that big body of his.

My core clenches—the fucking traitor. I can’t deny Daire is insanely good-looking, but my vagina is going to have to get on board with celibacy and quick, because I won’t be having sex anytime soon, and definitely not with my husband.

Once Daire loads the last of my items—refusing the help we offer, of course—he heads in to return the dolly. While we wait, Bertie hugs me one last time. Then she hurries back inside, but not before I catch the tears in her eyes. I hate that I’m leaving her like this. Especially only a few weeks after she and Tommy have called it quits—for real this time, it seems.

Daire comes out, head ducked low like he’s trying to avoideye contact with people milling around us. It’s a strange sight. Usually, he’s the big man on campus, commanding every space he enters and eating up his popularity. This new version of him is interesting, to say the least.

He climbs into the driver’s seat of the U-Haul while I get settled in my SUV.

Then, we’re pulling away from campus, my shoulders growing heavier with each passing mile.

9

DAIRE

The townhouse is pretty empty,save for a few odd pieces here and there, like a couch and one random dining room chair that was deliveredwithoutthe rest of the set or even the table.

Rosie, carrying a set of freshly washed sheets up the stairs, peers over her shoulder. “You don’t think this place is haunted, do you?”

“No,” I scoff.

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