Page 2 of Breaking Rules

I’m just a girlfriend…not a fiancée, and definitely not a wife. They probably figure I’m in Jake’s life temporarily, so why would they waste their time bonding with me? I understand the logic, despite how shitty it is. It costs nothing to be kind.

I peruse the venue, not really taking in the details. It’s exactly what I expected. Everything is coated in the team’s colors, red and white, with the Warriors logo—a silver shield—displayed here and there. I’m not interested in this new guy either. If Jake says he’s good, then I’ll take his word for it.

Honestly, I don’t know a whole lot about football. I’ve mostly avoided anything having to do with the sport since Jake and I broke up when he graduated from high school. We got back together six months ago, and I’ve made little effort to learn since. I have zero interest, so why bother?

The music comes to a stop, and we all turn to the small stage, where the general manager holds a mic, a million-dollar smile on his face. “Thank you so much for coming tonight,” he says.

I try my best to listen to him, but none of the jargon makes sense, so I tune it out. The only time I pay attention to football is when Jake is on the field, because that’s what’s expected of me.

“Let me introduce our new quarterback, Alexander Walker!”

With a sip of my water, I watch a guy in a tailored suit join the general manager on stage. He’s tall, muscular, and very lean. His hair is dark, but I can’t make out his features from here. He thanks the crowd for the warm welcome and says how excited he is to join the team.

Once he stops talking, I put my glass down and turn to Jake. His grayish blue eyes are glued to the scene, and only when I touch his elbow does he turn to look at me.

“I need to use the bathroom.”

“Now?” He frowns. “Can’t you wait a few minutes? Everyone will look at us.”

“I’m sorry.” I give him a frown of my own. “I can’t wait.” Without giving him time to respond, I stand and head toward the bathroom. What I really need is a few minutes to myself.

And that’s exactly what I get. Everyone is out there, eager to talk to the new QB, which means there’s not a soul in the bathroom when I walk in.

In front of the mirror, I rest my hands on either side of the sink and blow out a breath. How the hell did I get myself into this situation? At a party where I don’t fit in, wearing a dress I don’t feel comfortable in, with a person I don’t recognize anymore. The last part leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, because I couldn’t have imagined that would be the case when I agreed to get back together with Jake.

He was supposed to be a bridge to an easier time in my life, when I was happier, but nothing is the way I thought it would be.

I was fourteen when Jake and I struck up a friendship. He was two years older. For a long time, that was all we were: friends. Eventually, though, he confessed his feelings for me. He was my first love, just like I was his, so bumping into him seven months ago almost felt like destiny.

Especially since that encounter happened in a coffee shop I frequented but he’d never been to before. He only popped in because he was meeting a teammate who lived nearby.

We reconnected right away, and within weeks we were officially dating. Three months later, he asked me to move in with him.

When Jake and I started dating again, it felt like the emptiness I’d been carrying around for six years had finally disappeared. Like when he kissed me, I was no longer lost.

Two months after I moved in, though, it hit me how much he’d changed.

The door to the bathroom bursts open, and an elegantly dressed woman steps inside, ripping me out of my thoughts. I hastily wash my hands, flashing her a smile when our eyes meet in the mirror. She smiles back before she walks into one of the stalls. I dry my hands, then take a few deep breaths, mentally preparing myself to return to Jake’s side.

I just need to get through tonight. It will be fine.

When I return to our table, my boyfriend is nowhere to be seen. Brow furrowed, I weave through the crowd, searching for him.

“Isabella, over here.”

I crane my neck and spot him with the new quarterback—AlexanderWalker—and with another steadying breath, I head his way.

“There you are.” Jake grabs my hand and yanks me in so my back collides with his chest as he splays his palm over my stomach. “This is why I wanted you to come tonight,” he says, his hot breath fanning over my cheek. “So you could meet Xander.”

Xander?Surprise washes over me. Alexander is Xander? Jake’s friend and teammate from college? Eyes narrowed, I take him in.

Like Jake, he has dark brown hair, broad shoulders, and a muscular chest. Even the blue of his irises is similar.

“Babe, come on, it’s Xander! I talk about our wild college days all the time!” my boyfriend says, grasping my arms.

I barely register his words. I’m too caught up in studying his new teammate.

“Isabella?”

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