Page 24 of Breaking the Rules
“Perv,” she mutters, rolling her eyes.
“Did you catch the game?” I ask, watching her move into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.
“No.” She takes a long drink. “I had to write a paper on IPOs.”
I nod, and try not to feel disappointed. “That’s cool. IPOs are very important.”
She laughs. “Do you even know what an IPO is?”
I lift one brow. “Of course.”
She doesn’t look convinced.
“Want to hang out? Watch a movie?” I pat the spot on the couch next to me.
Essie lets out a long sigh and rubs her temples. Then she replaces the cap on her water bottle and turns to face me. Even before the next words leave her mouth, I know I’m not going to like them. “Look, Preston, you’re a great guy. And I really like living here.”
“Okay…” My voice comes out in a croak.
“And the hookups were…” She stops herself, holding up one hand. “Were,you know, fun.”
Fun?
That wasn’t just sex. I don’t care what she says. That was two people worshipping each other, connecting on a level deeper than I have with anyone—ever. How does she not see this? We’re perfect together. In the bedroom, anyways. And I have a feeling we would be perfect outside of it too if she’d only give us a shot. But Essie is determined to keep me at a distance.
“But I don’t do feelings,” she continues, meeting my eyes. “And I’m not looking for the whole boyfriend thing. It’s just not my scene.”
“Okay, that’s fine,” I hear myself say but the words sound hollow. I hate this. Hate that I’m not enough for her, but I keep my expression neutral. I act like the aloof hockey playboy everyone probably expects me to be anyways and give her a weak smile.
Essie nods once and then grabs her water and her bag and retreats to her bedroom, silently closing the door behind her—sending a message that’s as clear as day—she wants to be alone.
Essie isn’t just somewhere to park my dick when I’m bored. She means a lot to me. Not that I can tell her that. It would probably send her running for the hills. She’s perfect. Beautiful. Smart. Sexy as fuck. Deciding I need to blow off some steam, I grab my keys and head to the gym.
I try lifting weights, but I’m too distracted.
I get on the treadmill to run and only make it a mile. God, this sucks. I haven’t been this spun-up over a girl since my high school crush dumped me right before prom. I’d felt like a loser back then, unlovable. I feel the exact same way now to be honest. Apparently I’m not one of those guys who can do casual hookups…although it never seemed to be a problem before Essie.
I decide to text my teammate Jordie’s wife Harper. She’s really cool, and very no-holds-barred. She’s a couple of years older than me and I’ve found myself gravitating to her for advice. I shoot off a text to both her and Jordie since I don’t want my buddy to think it’s weird that I text his wife.
Help meeee,my text says.
Jordie is the first to reply.What’d you do now, you big idiot?
There’s no sense in beating around the bush. I trust Jordie and Harper completely with my secrets.Fell for the wrong girl?
Jordie replies again.This is Harper’s domain. Babe?
I wait to see if she’ll reply, but she’s probably at work. I frown and stare down at my phone, like I can somehow will her to write back.
Harp—I need relationship advice.I add a begging hands emoji for good measure.
Come over tonight,Harper finally replies.I’m making spaghetti and can dole out some advice.
Perfect. I’ll bring red wine. Love you guys.I stuff my phone in my pocket and decide to push all thoughts of Essie out of my brain until at least tonight.
Over bowls of spaghetti Bolognese, I spill my story to Jordie and Harper. She looks at me with a concerned expression and urges me on. Jordie, on the other hand, barely takes a breath as he shovels forkfuls of pasta into his mouth.Classic.
I tell them everything—the hot hookups we’ve shared, the fact that she let me hold her all night as we slept this last time, I even tell them about Warren and how I felt like beating him with a hockey stick.
