Page 26 of Rewrite the Rules

“Thanks for that, Pieces. Aaand now ignoring you.” I reach over and tap Quinn’s knee. I put on my best puppy-dog eyes. “Can we pop by your place on the way? May I borrow your boots tonight?”

“Which boots?”

“Youknowthe boots I’m referring to,” I whisper like we’re exchanging mob secrets.

“I’ll tell you what. If we go out tonight and you actually make it past midnight you can keep my Dolces.”

I gasp. “Keep?” My mouth hangs open. Quinn loves those boots as much as I do. And Dolce & Gabbana have discontinued that particular line in beige so she can’t just go pick up another pair. I have a bit of a reputation for being the first to call uncle during a night out, but it’s eye-opening that Quinn is willing to dangle our favorite suede boots as bait.

“Yes, Addie.Keep.”

Goodnight, couch and Sex and the City marathon.

* * *

The pounding club music at Rise is giving me a headache. Or maybe it’s all the Tuaca shots. Or it might be the overbearing cologne of the man who is currently attached to my lips.

This is not hot. I really want it to be, but it’s so far from it. I close my eyes as his unruly facial scruff that smells like Irish car bombs and pub mix scratch against my cheek.

“You are so sexy,” he whisper-growls. His hot breath against my ear is making my stomach churn.

“Um, thanks, Derek. You too.”

I don’t know if it’s because we’re kissing in a corner of a rooftop bar right behind the shelves of liquor, or that my buzz is wearing off, but this is painfully awkward. I am completely turned off and am barely tolerating Derek’s lips. It’s not for lack of trying.I’m trying. But this isn’t it. I know it. My gut is screaming at me. He’s not the one.

Well deal with it, gut.Theonedidn’t want you back.

I’m desperate to find that connection. The must-have, can’t-stop, consequences-be-damned, this-is-it,feeling.But I come up short every single time. I worry I have unrealistic expectations or maybe I’m too picky. But this is my body and my heart. If I’m picky about anything, shouldn’t it be this? Something in me has always told me I’ll know when it’s right. The signs will be neon green.

My lips halt and I try to lean farther back into the brick wall Derek presses me against. He doesn’t take the hint. Instead, he moves to my neck, slurping from my earlobe down to the hollow of my throat. Oh, gross—what is dripping down my neck?

“Um, hey, Derek?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Oh my. Just ‘Adler’ is totally fine by the way. Um, so the thing is I have to be up early tomorrow.” I slide out from the prison Derek has made around me with his arms. His grumbly groan is one of frustration.

“Come on! Stay. We were just getting started.”

Oh, no, no buddy.We’re done. I promise you. “Sorry. Like super early. Like before the sun rises early.” I retreat but Derek grabs my hand, pulling me back.

“Now you know you’re too damn fine for me to let you slip away. You have to at least give me your number.” He clutches his chest as if I’m breaking his heart. But let’s be honest, there’s only one part of his anatomy suffering right now.

He’s a bartender at the best rooftop bar in LoDo. He’s friends with the band. He’s tall, handsome, has a very nice body from what I can make out through his shirt, and he also holds the key to all the liquor. I think he’ll be all right. Another girl will replace me in about sixty seconds.

“Derek, don’t take this personally but I am not going to sleep with you. Not tonight. Not ever. That kiss is as far as it goes. So, knowing that—do you still want my number?”

Derek’s brows bow in a rainbow arch at my candid declaration. He smiles. Amused, maybe? “All right. Goodnight, Adler.” It’s the sexiest thing he’s said to me all night.

I rush down the stairs, through the mosh pit of the crowded bar, and outside onto the streets of downtown Denver. I don’t see any of the girls but I tiptoe around the building to avoid being spotted. I really don’t feel like having an argument about walking tonight. I can already picture Quinn’s scold as she tells me how irresponsible it is to walk home in these thigh-high boots and my bodycon dress. My ensemble was meant as bait, but I caught the wrong fish. Truthfully, I didn’t want to fish to begin with. I just wanted a distraction from myself.

The solitude and fresh air help me work on the Adler love-life puzzle in my mind. Derek is handsome and sweet and probably knows what he’s doing in the sheets. Not a terrible choice for my first, but I’ve stumbled my way through twenty-five years by listening to my heart. The mouthy bitch is hard to ignore and let me tell you, she was zero percent interested in the hot bartender dressed in all black.

Me:Guys, I left. Feeling sick. But Quinny, it’s 12:03. Boots are mine. See you guys at brunch tomorrow?

Noa:Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve left with you.

Reese:When did you leave? I just saw you making out with Derek.

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