Page 73 of Unwritten Rules
“You don’t mean it,” she drawls seductively, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth. She bats her false eyelashes at me, and I fight the urge to shudder. “I know you still want me, Sin.”
“Get your hand off me,” I demand, my self-restraint rapidly decreasing the longer she touches me. “Now.”
“Come on.” She steps closer, her minty breath fanning across my lips. “I’m sure you remember all the fun we had together. I know I do. Which is why I know you still want this. You want me.”
“Get. Your. Hand. Off me.Now,” I growl. “If I have to ask again, it’s going to be far from nice.”
Zoe lifts on her toes, her lips brushing mine the tiniest bit before my hands find her shoulders. Guiding her away from my body, I stare down at her with a look I can only assume represents the sizzling anger in my bones.
“That’s enough,” I strangle out, throat tight. “I need you to get the fuck out of my sight before I do something I might regret.”
Zoe stumbles back, her gym bag falling to her side. Heat burns in her honey eyes as she stares me down and straightens her spine. She refuses to be made to look weak, and I know handling her that way made her feel exactly that.
“You’re an asshole,” she spits, venom dripping from her words.
“And you’re still standing here when I told you to leave.”
Zoe huffs and flips me the bird. She spins on her heels and stalks across the parking lot, leaving me to fester in a pool of worry and fucking anger. Worry that my sister is hours away and struggling, and anger that Zoe refuses to leave me alone.
“Fuck,” I grunt, fisting my hands at my side.
I feel her before I see her, and my heart rate spikes in my chest.
“That was… intense.”
Tatum steps out of the shadows with her handbag slung over her shoulder. Even in a polo shirt and black zip-up hoodie, she’s the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on. Or ever will. Her hair is in loose waves over her shoulders, spiralling down her spine.
“You saw all of that?” I rasp, slumping against my car.
Tatum replaces the space Zoe greedily took from me, her scent inviting and so fucking calming. I had forgotten how to breathe when Gran told me about Mia’s panic attack, but with Tatum so close, and her voice and scent wrapping me in a tight hug, I inhale a deep breath and close my eyes.
“Most of it,” she responds with not a hint of anger or jealousy in her tone. “Are you okay?”
My eyes snap open, greeted by jade eyes peering at me through long—real—lashes. “You’re asking if I’m okay?”
Tatum nods. “You seem upset, and stressed.”
“Not upset, just annoyed,” I clarify, running a hand through my hair. “But I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?” she presses, her hand finding my chest, my heart. “If you need to talk about it, I’m listening.”
I place my hand over hers, the warmth from her skin soothing away the storm rolling through me. “I’m good. Promise.”
Tatum grins. “I’m sure it’s nothing a steamy ten-minute make-out sesh in your car won’t fix.”
I choke on the saliva in my mouth, causing Tatum to laugh. Yeah, she really is too much. But in the best way possible.
“I think you might be right about that.”
Tatum smiles and steps between my legs, stealing the air from my lungs. Her hand slides to the back of my neck, tracing gentle circles into the skin. “I can trust you, right?”
My hands find a hold on her hips, chest tightening. “Why are you asking?”
“Just… because,” she murmurs, blinking up at me. “Can I?”
“Of course you can,” I murmur, tightening my grip on her. “Can I trust you?”
She nods without hesitation. “Absolutely.”
