Page 30 of Breaking the Rules
Chapter Seven
Hunter
"If you're going to be here, help." Emma points to the overflowing bookshelf in the corner.
"All right."
"DVDs only."
"Sure." I move to the shelf. Stack a dozen Disney movies on the dining table.
Then a collection of frothy romantic comedies.
It doesn't seem like Emma.
She's a lot of things.
But light and easy aren't among them.
She moves into the bedroom as I arrange the movies in her bright red suitcase.
I've never been all that neat—certainly not as neat as her brother—but since I got clean, I've learned to appreciate the merits of putting things in their place.
Like the line between me and Emma.
It's a fat thing that screamsyou're here to look out for her. Don't get invested.
Usually, that's easy.
Usually, I avoid connection as much as possible.
But there's something about her.
She moves into the main room with a dozen dresses folded over her arm.
Her dark eyes flit around the room.
Fix on me.
"You really want to help?" she asks.
"Yeah." I need to feel useful. Like I have a purpose. Or my head fills with thoughts of bourbon and numbness and I forget the point of this sobriety thing.
She motions to the kitchen. "Pack the coffee."
"Your brother has a ton."
"Dark roast." Her nose scrunches in distaste. "If I wanted burnt coffee, I'd go to Starbucks."
"I have good shit."
"So do I." Again, she motions to the kitchen.
I move into it. Find the coffee on a high shelf, behind a mug labeledPlease Wait, Sarcasm is Loading.
I chuckle.
"What?" She turns to me. Watches me pull the mug and two bags of beans from the shelf. "Oh."
