Page 20 of Breaking Rules

“Not really.” I look out the window, hoping he gets the hint to drop it. There’s no way I’m going to be friends with this guy.

“I’m sorry. I love my folks, so I guess I assume everyone else feels the same way about theirs.”

“Definitely not me.” The second the words are out of my mouth, I silently chastise myself. I don’t talk about my family issues with anyone. Not even Jake.

“Okay. I’m sorry for asking.” Xander gives me a small, genuine smile.

I return the gesture. “It’s fine, honestly. Most people do love their parents. I’m just not one of them.” I avert my gaze, focusing on the road this time.

Thankfully, he does the same. A comfortable silence fills the car, and the rigidness in my muscles ebbs.

For the rest of the ride, he lets me be, and I appreciate that more than anything.

* * *

The homewe pull up in front of is a one-story mahogany brick house with huge windows and a light gray roof.

Lips stretched into a smile, I turn to look at the owner.

“What? Do you like my house?” he chuckles.

“A little. There’s a lot riding on what’s inside.” I unfasten my seat belt and clamber out of the Porsche, eager to get a better look. The house isn’t as big as Jake’s, but it’s cozier, at least on the outside, with a neat lawn and a beautiful magnolia tree in the corner. It’s warm and inviting like my aunt’s place—just looking at it sends a rush of comfort through my veins.

As we approach the house, I realize that I’m nearly a head shorter than Xander.

He stops to unlock the front door, and as he pushes it open he holds out an arm. “Welcome to my humble home.”

The moment I step inside, I’m assaulted by the incessant barking of a dog and the click-clack sound of nails on hardwood floors.

I freeze, hands clasped, unsure what to expect.

“Don’t be scared,” Xander says, his mouth a little too close to my ear. The rasp of his soft, velvety voice goes right through me. “Milo is a big sweetheart.”

An orange and white corgi appears then, barreling toward me. When he reaches me, he bounces, his tail wagging. His face lights up, as if he’s smiling at me.

Oh my God. I sigh in relief, and then I burst out laughing. Kneeling, I hold out a hand so he can sniff it. “Hey, buddy.”

He licks my fingers, the sensation making me squirm and squeal with laughter.

“Milo, that’s enough. I can’t even close the door.”

I stand and take a few steps forward. The dog, having discovered his owner is home, has lost all interest in me. He darts for Xander and whines, demanding attention.

“One minute, boy.” Once the door is firmly shut, he crouches and loves on his dog.

I can’t help but smile. It’s so sweet and genuine, it warms my heart. I had a cat when I was little. Back then, knowing something was waiting for me at home, that something noticed me, was more meaningful than just about anything else.

“How did you end up with Milo?” I ask, trying to distract myself from my memories.

“My sister gave him to me on my twenty-fourth birthday. He’s only a year old. Still a puppy, really.” Xander gets to his feet. “How about we go to the living room?”

“Sure.”

As soon as I step inside the living room, I stop in my tracks. White walls and a light wood floor are a great contrast to the room’s forest green, black, and light gray accents. The room looks…nice. Why does he need me?

“Xander?”

“What?” He turns to me, a mischievous smile on his lips.

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