Page 17 of Breaking Rules

My heart thumps loudly, echoing in my ears. Should I mention Xander was hitting on me? Now that Jake has roped me into decorating his house, it’ll be impossible to avoid him.

I decide to come clean.

“Xander was flirting with me,” I breathe.

Jake’s expression remains passive, and he doesn’t speak.

“Um, he knew I saw him with that girl, and when he came to the kitchen afterward, he was all flirty. Smiling, making suggestive comments?—”

He huffs out a laugh. “It’s in Walker’s nature—he’s a flirt. I’m not even sure he knows he’s doing it most of the time. Plus, you’re not his type.” He drags me on top of him until I’m straddling his hips. “You are a gorgeous brunette. He always goes for blondes. Also, you’re smart, kind, and compassionate—and he likes snobby bitches with no brains.”

“Was that a compliment?” Just a moment ago, he swore his friend would fuck anything that moved.

“Of course.” He slinks his hand up under my nightie, groaning. “Are we done talking about this?” He cups my breast. “I want you.”

Sex. It’s why I’m still here. For years, I’ve used it as a distraction from my worries, to create the illusion that I’m loved, even when I know I’m not. When Jake fucks me, I feel something other than emptiness. But is that really enough to make me stay?

“One second.” I hop off the bed, round the end of it, and put my phone on the charger. When I take a step back, I bump into Jake, who silently snuck up behind me.

He snakes his hands around me, pressing my back against his chest, and an intense shiver runs down my spine.

“It wasn’t nice of you to leave me alone,” he whispers.

“It was just for a couple seconds.” I lean back, resting my head against his shoulder.

“No, it wasn’t.” He glides his hands down my nightie. “You refused to shower with me earlier, so this time was too much.” His shaky breath tells me everything I need to know about how much he wants me.

Turning around, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and give in. If nothing else, at least he’s the best sex I’ve ever had.

* * *

Coffee in one hand,my phone in the other, I scroll through social media. I don’t have any plans for today. When I started working for my cousin, he was reluctant to give me much responsibility, so my days were dull. Frustrated by it, I convinced him to give me a heavier load. Eventually, he started trusting me with more and more tasks, and the more I worked, the clearer it became just how much I love interior design.

One day, I was lying on the couch in my old apartment, staring at the wall, when I realized a big painting would breathe some life into the living room and make the place stand out. I searched for ideas online and browsed stores in hopes of finding the right piece. When I discovered a beautiful painting of La Sagrada Família to hang in the spot, it dawned on me that I’d found something I was good at, like a missing puzzle piece clicked into place. My love for sketching and admiring interiors finally made sense.

My phone buzzes, shaking me out of my thoughts. When I see the DM request and the Instagram handle, my heart stutters in surprise.

Xander:

Hey Bella. What are you up to?

I’m almost certain he’s called me “Isabella” each time we’ve spoken. Now he’s suddenly switched to a nickname very few people use? Why the change?

With my bottom lip caught between my teeth, I stare at my phone and consider ignoring him completely.

Fuck it.

Me:

Hey. Just had a call with my boss. What about you?

Xander:

Miller said you have the day off.

Me:

Has your coach never called you on your day off?

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