Page 19 of Breaking Rules

“Doyou always do whatever you want?” I ask as I stab the button to end the call.

“Most of the time.” With a smile, he slips his own device into his pocket and leans casually against the doorframe. “I’m happy you agreed to help me, Isabella.”

“Good for you. I, on the other hand, already regret it,” I mutter, stepping aside. “Come on in. I need fifteen minutes to get ready.”

As he passes me, I’m enveloped in the scent of cinnamon and sandalwood with a hint of tobacco.

“Wait for me in the living room.” I close the door, then dart for the stairs. I’m halfway up when I realize he’s following me. I whirl around and glare, a finger pointed at him. “You. Wait. In. The. Living. Room.”

“I can help.” His blue eyes sparkle, making my heart go pitter-patter all of a sudden.

“Thanks.” I tamp down on the reaction and erect a wall of annoyance. “But I’m fully capable of getting ready on my own.” I turn and stomp to the second floor without looking back.

Inside my walk-in closet, I slip my hands in the pockets of my shorts and survey my options. I don’t want to give Xander the impression that I’m dressing up for him, so I settle on a light blue floral dress. It’s lovely but casual and relatively modest. Once I’ve stepped into a pair of black flats, I give myself a once-over in the mirror, add black mascara to my eyelashes, and collect my hair into a messy bun.

As I step into the living room, Xander stands. “You look incredible.”

“Thanks.” I smile. Rather than crass, his compliment is sweet. If he kept all his flirty comments to himself, it’d be so much easier to work with him.

Xander opens the front door and gestures for me to walk outside first. “When I called Miller for your number, he was at the gym. You don’t go with him?”

Brows knitted, I wait for an innuendo, but his expression is placid. “No. He’s got a routine, but I like trying new things. I never really stick to just one activity.”

Xander chuckles. “Why? Do you get bored easily?”

“You could say that. I like variety. I’m open to everything. Free weights, yoga, Pilates, or just running.”

“Yoga? You must be really flexible,” he teases.

There’s the flirtation.Ass. I roll my eyes and lift my chin, heading for the gate. “Ask Jake.”

“Maybe I will.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from saying something rude. He’s a flirt, a player on and off the field. Yet my cheeks burn every time he makes these kinds of comments.

On the other side of the gate, he places a hand on my lower back and guides me to a Porsche Cayenne. “Your carriage awaits, Your Grace,” he announces. “Like it?”

“It’s just a Porsche,” I say. I have no interest in boosting his ego.

“Justa Porsche?” He arches an amused brow. “It’s a Cayenne Turbo S E-Hybrid Coupe.”

A huffed laugh escapes me. “Okay.”

With a shake of his head, he opens the passenger door for me. As he rounds the hood, I sneak a glance at him, only to find he’s watching me. He doesn’t look away as he slips into the driver’s seat.

Shit. What did I get myself into?

“Did it take you long to find a house or…?” I ask as he starts the engine.

“My dad is the one who found it. He helped me get the process moving pretty quickly.”

Hands in my lap, I tuck my chin. “Oh, okay.”

“I’m pretty close with my parents, and they live nearby. It’s nice to have their help, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess.” In all honesty, I struggle to imagine it. I’m not close with my mom, though I am lucky to have a good relationship with my Aunt Millie and her son.

“You aren’t close with your family, are you?” He side-eyes me, his smile falling.

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