Page 65 of Breaking Rules

“Why don’t you wait in the living room?” I put her suitcase in the hallway and head to the bathroom. Fuck, I wish I could turn off my mind—the number of crazy theories in my brain is insane.

I need to talk to her.

* * *

Ten minutes later,I find Bella in the living room, her eyes closed and her head resting on the back of the couch. The sheer exhaustion radiating from her makes my heart squeeze painfully. The more time I spend with her, the easier she is to read, but right now, she’s a closed book.

“Coffee’s ready. Let’s go to the kitchen,” I suggest, lowering myself onto the couch beside her.

She opens her eyes and rolls her head to the side until her gaze is fixed on me. “I don’t have the strength to move, honestly.”

“Okay.” I turn to face her and take her in again. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you.” She gives me a tired smile and sits up straighter. “So,” she says, “do you really like your bathroom, or did you just say that to make me feel good?”

“I never say things I don’t mean. I love the pieces you picked, and I was bummed when you didn’t want to see the final result.”

“I’m sorry.” She sighs. “My life has been a mess lately, and I didn’t want to drag you down too.”

I swallow thickly. “Talk to me. You can trust me with any of it. All of it. It’ll stay between us.”

Knee bouncing, she looks away from me.

Desperate to help her but at a loss, I put a gentle hand on her thigh to stop the movement.

With an audible exhale, she turns back to me.

“Remember how I brought you home after Miller was an ass? You can trust me,” I reassure her, meaning every word I say. “I’m here for you, Bella.”

A barely-there smile tugs at her lips, her eyes softening. Taking a deep breath, she covers my hand with hers and laces our fingers together. A jolt of electricity runs through me, spreading all over my skin and down to my toes. One simple touch, and this girl brings me to my knees.

She’s my friend.

But fuck, am I attracted to her.

I was a fool to think I could use her to make Jake pay for what he did.

“My mother…” She lets out a shaky breath. “In her eyes, I’m not good enough. She hateseverythingabout me. She can’t help but make comments about my body, my hair, my choice of clothes, my makeup. Today, she made a snide comment about how some other woman might steal Jake from me if I don’t keep my appearance up…as if who I am on the inside isn’t enough for him.”

She bows her head and takes several breaths before she looks at me again, her expression flat.

“She treated me horribly when I was a kid. She intentionally left me at a theater in New York when I was thirteen, then told my stepfather I was the one to blame. Kevin stopped trying to be a father to me after that. When I was fifteen, they took an extended vacation to Europe, and I stayed with my aunt for two months.”

She falls silent, chewing on the inside of her cheek. This time, though, her eyes are glossy.

“Was your stepfather at the party?”

Muscles tensing, she nods. “My mom never goes anywhere without him. He’s her accessory.” Her lip curls on the last word. “Image is everything to them. He takes good care of himself; he wears his fake smile and his designer clothes. He practically lives at the gym after my mother said she would divorce him if he gained weight. His colleagues admire him, our neighbors adore him. Everyone thinks he’s a great man. They don’t know who he really is.”

Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she wets her lips.

In response, my lungs constrict, making it hard to breathe.

“What did he do to you?” I move closer, trying to catch her attention.

Rather than look at me, she focuses on the black screen of the TV. “There are two sides of the story.”

“What’s yours?”

---