Page 6 of The 7 Rules of Moving On
“Hey. I’ve gotten laid more times after rodeos—”
“Ryan! Manners!” Grandma Betty scolded, lightly slapping Ryan’s hand while Pudge’s round shoulders shook with laughter.
“They’re cute,” Kissie said. “Are they related?”
“Pudge and Grandma Betty are Ryan’s grandparents, and the owners of these magical, healing waters. At least for now.”
“For now?”
Trig waved away the question, swapping the subject out with one of his own. “Was that what the whole ‘rule number four’ thing was all about? Your friend getting over her ex?”
She brightened. “Yes. I have these rules. I love rules.” She spread out her hands in the air and recited, “The seven rules of moving on.”
“You love rules?”
“I am the oldest of six. Without rules, chaos reigns.” She shuddered. “I don’t do chaos.”
“What’s rule number four?”
Pulling her phone out of some hidden side pocket in her sweats, she slid her credit card and ID and something else from her phone case. “Here. See for yourself.”
“You laminated them?” he asked, turning the plastic card she’d slid across the bar to him back and forth in his hand. “You laminated your rules?”
“Hey, pal,” she snipped, pointing at the card. Her nails were short, painted black. “The rules are important. And we’ve been wet all week.”
He had to throw a hand over his mouth not to spit out the sip he’d just taken. “Wet all week, eh?” he said after swallowing.
Leaning forward to shove at his shoulder, she exclaimed, “It’s a hot springs! Wet as in water wet, not…” She stopped herself, reconsidering. “Well, Dawnhasgotten lucky a few times.”
“But not,” he squinted down at the card’s fine print, finding rule number four, “drunk hookuplucky, I take it?”
She nodded sagely. “Correct.”
“Let’s start at the beginning. Rule number one: Crying is strength.”
She hummed. “A very important rule. No matter how tough you think you are, if your heart is broken, you can’t pass over the crying stage. Tears must be shed. The only way out is through.”
“Are you speaking from experience?”
When she didn’t answer, he took the hint and moved further down the list. “Rule number two: Sugar is health food. I like that one.”
“Rule number two is essential to moving on. Both rules one and two are all about self-care. Nobody performs enough self-care.” She looked up at him with such genuine sympathy it lodged a lump in the middle of his throat. “Do you participate in any self-care, Trig?”
How strong had he made their drinks? He was dizzy, lightheaded, and his shirt that had fit him perfectly for years was suddenly too tight.
“Probably not as much as I should.” He pulled on his collar. Returning to her card, he said, “Rule number three sounds legit: No calling, texting, thinking, or talking about the ex.”
“Which is surprisingly hard. I’ve had to snatch Dawn’s phone out of her hands no less than six times this week. Which leads us to rule number four, which you already know: No drunk hookups.”
“Why not? I’d think drunken horseplay was a pretty normal part of getting over an ex.”
“Horseplay?” she said, amused at his expense. “Haven’t heard that one in a while.”
“Are you making fun of me?”
She raised a fist, her thumb and first finger sticking out, their tips nearly touching. “A little.”
“Lucky for you, I love being teased. Now answer the question.”
