Page 5 of Breaking the Rules
Then Emma knocks on my door and all my focus scatters.
"Hey. Hunter. I, uh, Brendon's only stopping by to grab his stuff. And he's got another two hours at the shop first." Her voice is soft. Nervous. "So, um, I… I'll just be downstairs. Studying."
"Sure."
"You mind if I play some music?"
"Go for it."
"Thanks." Her footsteps move down the hallway. Then the stairs.
The house quiets. Then it booms with a heavy guitar riff.
It's familiar.
One of Chase's favorites.
It tugs at something in my gut. Some place that's still empty.
Someplace that's always been empty.
There wasn't one reason why I spiraled into self-destruction.
It was all these little things. Mom mentally bailing on us. Dad checking out with her. My inability to connect. Or understand. Or feel anything stronger than this dull ache that got bigger and bigger until it threatened to consume me.
Fuck, I can't get into this now.
I need to get through this gig.
To survive Emma downstairs.
To find an anonymous fuck to drown my thoughts.
That isn't happening—it's too close to everything.
Right now, work is the only distraction I have.
It has to be enough.
I slip my sketchbook into my backpack. Sling it over my shoulder. Head downstairs.
Emma's sitting on the couch. Her long legs are spread over the leather. Her white tank top is low on her chest. Her lips arefuck mered.
It's not what she's saying.
She isn't saying anything.
She's minding her own fucking business.
I need to do the same.
"Hey." She looks up from her textbook. "I, uh—"
"I gotta—" I reach for an explanation that isn'tI have to run away from you because I don't trust myself. Find nothing. "I'm gonna grab dinner."
"For yourself?" She looks up at me expectantly.
I guess it is a dick move, grabbing dinner for myself when she's here. "What do you want?"
