Page 73 of Forgotten Rules (Rules 4)

I’m overwhelmed by how much I want him. Sirens blare in my head, begging me to hit the brakes before we crash and burn. My instincts say if I don’t stop this, he won’t either. If I don’t move away, none of us will and we might end up…

“Kass, get your ass downstairs. The Uber is her—”

Will and I lurch away from each other so fast that I accidentally bump the back of my head against the mirror. Zoey stands in the doorway, mouth hanging, eyes as big as the mistake we just made.

“Oh, Lord, I’m sorry. I didn’t… I had no… I’m just going to…” She staggers out the door.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

Then comes the moment I dreaded the most. The sobering moment where we fall back down to earth and let it sink in. Silent, we stare at each other, both chasing our breath. This has to be the first time I’ve ever seen Will speechless.

He’s shocked.

Well, that makes two of us.

In a moment of panic, I do the only thing I can think of: push to my feet, swing the door open, and bolt. I check the room where I left Morgan, only to find it empty. Hurrying down the stairs, I spot Zoey near the entrance and drag her out of the house to catch our Uber, where she tells me Morgan is already passed out.

I plop down into the passenger seat, attempting to wrap my mind around what just happened. Unable to believe that Will just kissed me.

That I kissed Will.

That we kissed.

In the bathroom.

Hard.

“Look who finally took my advice,” Zoey sneers from the back seat as we speed off into the night.

Kassidy

Someone once told me the first moment of waking up after a night out is the worst. That it all comes down to ten seconds. The first five are made of blissful oblivion. For a short, brief memory lapse, you don’t remember anything, including the fact that your liver took a massive blow.

Then come the slightly less pleasant part. The “Holy fuck. My head hurts,” followed by the “Shit, that’s right. I got hammered last night,” and last, but not least, the “Crap, I have to barf.” Zoey and I are currently experiencing the latest. Except my phase three comes with an epic dose of regret.

We’ve agreed: last night was a bad idea.

&nbs

p; The shots, the drinking games?

Bad idea.

The hot-as-fuck make-out session in the bathroom with my brother’s best friend?

An even worse idea.

Zoey’s been bugging me about it since the moment we woke up—my bad for inviting her to spend the night. One thing is for sure: I am definitely not going to forget kissing William Martins on her watch.

“Are we ever going to talk about what the hell I saw last night?” she hounds me.

I nestle my head under my pillow, releasing a heavy sigh. How exactly do you go about answering a question you’re asking yourself? On one hand, Will said so much. On the other, he didn’t say squat. He didn’t once mention if he had feelings for me. Or what this kiss would mean.

Or did he?

Any event that occurred before he caged me against the bathroom counter and kissed the breath out of me is a bit of a blur. All I remember vividly are his hands all over my body, his lips on mine, the way he—

“Kass, for fuck’s sake, I’m dying over here.” Zoey pulls me out of a daze. “What was that?’