Page 5 of Rules of Association

Taken off guard, I looked over my shoulder to complain about the sneak attack. But instead of finding a sympathetic to rally on my side, I found him flicking his eyes up at the doctor and giving him a short nod of permission. My head cocked in confusion, ready to ask him what the hell he was looking at when I felt another yank.

Crack!

“Ow!” I snatched my hand away from the doctor who was obviously assaulting me. Pain shot through what felt like my entire arm as an immediate result of the sudden movement and my voice went up about twelve octaves as I couldn’t help repeating my suffering whine. “Ow!”

Looking over my shoulder again, I glared at the face that was now contorting in further amusement. My eyes narrowed on his, “You’re a traitor.”

“It’s not betrayal if it’s to help you.”

“That hurt.”

“And now it’s done.”

As if to solidify that fact, he dislodged his hand from mine and moved to return to his seat across the room. When he sat, his body barely fitting in the tiny chair, he leaned his cheek against his fist and closed his eyes for five whole seconds before opening them again.

He was tired.

Seeing the wear the night was putting on him suddenly gave me a rush of urgency. He’d gone out of his way to come get me when I asked, just like he always did. On top of that, he still found it in him to try to distract me while a stranger pulled my bones out of their sockets. The least I could do was get him out of here so he could sleep.

Straightening in my seat, I brought my eyes up to the doctor, leveling him with a look, “Thanks, doc. Can we go now?”

His eyebrows raised yet again, a look of shock registering in his features. I didn’t care anymore. I was suddenly in a rush to get out of there. He could probably tell by the way he snapped his chart closed. “I’ll get the brace and a few prescriptions for pain. It’ll only be for a few days, but don’t take them with any alcohol. After two weeks, I’ll see you back at my regular offices for a checkup and then we can get you scheduled for some physical therapy. Sound good?”

I risked another glance at the guest chair, wondering if I’d catch him with his eyes closed again. I didn’t. He was staring at me. Focused and waiting. Quiet and sure. Like he always was. Still, I didn’t want him getting tired of me, so I tried to convey as much communication into my gaze as he often did with his.

‘Almost done’,I wanted it to say. Topromise.

To the doctor, I gave a decisive nod. “Sounds great.”

* * *

It was another hour before we got home. Home tonight was my place although it tended to switch back and forth between mine and his whenever we hung out a little too late and needed to crash. We would both be driving toward the beach the next day, so technically his place would be closer; but since I’d left my car parked near the wine bar from earlier and we would need to go get it in the morning, mine made more sense. Mr. Buff-and-Healthy usually liked to run in the mornings anyway, he’d probably go get it while he was out doing that.

As soon as we crossed the threshold into my apartment, I felt like collapsing. I wasn’t allowed to, though. Instead, I was ordered into the shower, into pajamas, and then into bed. A tall glass of water sat on my bedside counter and the first of the prescription pills sat right beside it, one for daytime and one for night. By the time this was all settled and he was doing God knows what in the kitchen, it felt like another millennia had passed.

Sleep threatened to take me out as I waited for him to come say goodnight. He was takingforeverin there, and here I had been rushing to get home because I thought he was sleepy.

It took him ten minutes of clanging around in the kitchen, opening and shutting cabinets, clattering plates, and shuffling boxes for me to get fed up. He’d probably gotten distracted by my messy kitchen and started tidying up before he could stop himself. I let a long groan out into the apartment air to let him know I was still waiting on him to hurry up.

Not a whole minute later, a shadow appeared above me. I could barely lift my head to see him, though. The pain medicine was kicking in, making me feel heavier than normal.

“What were you doing in there?” I asked.

Quietly, he crouched at my bedside bringing his elbows to his spread knees and holding something on a plate my way. Sitting up slowly with effort, I blinked my bleary drugged eyes at his hands, and that’s when I saw what he was holding.

A vanilla cupcake with pretty blue icing and a singular candle sticking out the top. Flame licked the tip of it, lazy and slow.

I felt a gradual grin pull over my face at the same speed one pulled over his. Reaching out, I grabbed the cupcake and leaned over it. I didn’t need to make a wish before blowing it out. I was pretty damn happy already, even with a broken hand.

I think he could tell just that as he simply shook his head and watched me. “Happy Birthday, Cee.”

Chapter Two

CONNOR

“Why the hell are we here?” my older brother, Clay, asked as we walked the familiar trek up the long driveway of the Fernandez homestead. Our sister’s in-laws’ place. Our close family business partners. My best friend’s parents, (not that anyone else knew anything aboutthat).

When Ceci and I became friends—a coincidence after I’d walked into my sister’s room expecting to see her and instead found the youngest daughter of my family’s long-standing business partners instead—it had been her crazy idea to keep it all a secret. But that was just Ceci.Everyidea she had was crazy.

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