Page 88 of Rule Breakers Fall Hardest

Jude raises his bottle in the air, his sombrero tilting to the side. “To the death of Daire’s bachelorhood.”

I shake my head and bite back a laugh.

“To the death of Daire’s bachelorhood,” the rest echo the sentiment.

I tip my bottle at them and drink.

I’m mostlysober by the time the guys drop me off, but it’s late, so I fully expect to find Rosie in bed. Instead, I find her in the family room, burrowed beneath a mountain of blankets, haloed by the light of the TV.

I struggle to get my shoes off, having to lean against the wall and yank one off, then the other rather than toe them off like I normally would. Maybe Iamfeeling the effects of the alcohol more than I thought. “What are you doing?”

“Watching a movie.” Her voice is muffled by the blankets.

My skin suddenly feels too hot, so I shrug out of my coat and drop it onto the floor. Then goes my sweatshirt and t-shirt.

Rosie’s eyes widen comically. “Are you… am I getting a striptease right now?”

“I just wanna be comfortable.”

When I reach for my belt, she yelps, covering her eyes with the blanket.

Once I’m down to my boxers, I grab a blanket and join her on the couch.

Slowly, she peeks out from behind her barricade, only revealing one brown eye to me. “Please tell me you’re wearingsomethingunder there.”

I smirk. “You’ve already seen my dick. What difference does it make?”

“Can you blame me for not wanting your bare ass on the new couch?”

I chuckle, my body lighting up with amusement. “I have my boxers on. You can relax.”

She keeps her face mostly covered, but what I can see of her cheeks is stoplight red. She continues staring at me like she’s in some sort of trance.

“Watch your movie.” I point to the screen.

“This is so weird,” she mutters, but eventually she turns her attention back to the TV.

The couch is big. I could’ve picked any spot. But I chose the one right beside her. It’s weird, this feeling of wanting to be close to her, but I don’t have the energy to fight it.

The movie is one I haven’t seen before. One of those lovey-dovey kinds. But I get sucked in anyway. Eventually her toes find their way from her blanket to beneath mine.

“Jesus.” I flinch. “Why are your feet like ice?”

“I don’t know.” She bats her eyes. “I’m cold. Care to warm them up for me?”

An embarrassingly high-pitched sound leaves me when she presses her entire ice-cold foot to my thigh instead of just her toes.

Grabbing her foot, I yank it into my lap and press my thumb into her arch.

A tiny moan escapes her full lips. “That feels so good,” she admits, closing her eyes.

It takes concerted effort not to grin at her response. “Glad I could put my hands to use in some way.”

She tugs her foot back at my comment, but I hold on tighter. “Nuh-uh. You’re not getting away that easily.”

I work my thumb around her whole foot, paying attention to the spots that are sore based on the sounds she makes.

Eyes closed, she rests her head back against the couch. “You’re really good at that.”

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