Page 125 of Unbroken Rules (Rules 3)

One of his douche friends notifies him of our presence with a nudge. He looks up and stares… hard. When he sees Caleb button up his shirt, I swear I can hear him mentally planning the murder. What’s his deal?

Caleb asks if I want to play beer pong, and I accept. Twenty minutes later, we’ve completely destroyed the two girls we were playing with. Caleb pulls me into a hug in the midst of joy, and Haze scampers out of the room with a tight jaw. The front door is slammed, but I don’t move a muscle. I pretend that I didn’t see it, that I’m unbothered, but all I want to do is follow and ask him why…

Why his mouth says something but his actions say otherwise. Why he pushes me away but can’t stand to see someone else pull me closer. Why he’s possessive of something he doesn’t want anymore.

Why the one who threw my heart on the ground can’t stand to see someone else pick it up.

The sound of the door closing invades my silent apartment, and I strip off my coat in a hurry. It’s close to 3:00 a.m. I search for Waze for a while, only to find him sleeping in my room. After a few hours of playing beer pong with Caleb, I managed to get a hold of Allie and Kendrick. They—big surprise—were quite busy the majority of the night. Tipsy, smudged-lipsticked Allie apologized a million times for leaving me alone, but I didn’t hold it against her. She’s in love. I’m happy for her. Kendrick said he would be crashing at Allie’s place tonight and coming home tomorrow.

Caleb offered to drive me back to the apartment, but he was wasted, so we ended up splitting a cab. I’d had a bit to drink myself, although not nearly as much as he did. Before I got out, he hit me with a “You’re welcome.” I’m not sure what he meant by that, but I’m way too exhausted to overthink it. I just want to get into a scorching shower and sleep it off.

When I step under the hot water, every muscle in my body unwinds. Ten minutes later, I’m reaching for the towel hanging off the corner of the bathtub and wrapping it around my body.

That’s when I hear them.

The footsteps.

I jolt around, holding on to my towel for dear life. This is it. I’m going to die. There’s an intruder in the apartment. They’re going to murder me, and the police will find me dead and naked in my bathroom, which, by the way, has always been my worst fucking nightmare.

I reach for the closest weapon I can find which happens to be a steel candleholder. The bathroom door creaks open, and I let out a gigantic breath of relief.

In the doorway is a very drunk Haze.

He’s barely maintaining his balance, leaning against the doorframe drunkenly. His eyes are bloodshot from all the alcohol, yet so mesmerizing I can’t tolerate staring directly into them.

“Haze, you scared the shit out of me.” My chest inflates with heavy breaths. “What are you doing here?”

“As far as I know, I live here, baby,” he rasps.

He’s completely gone. Lights off. No one’s home.

“You don’t live here anymore,” I correct.

He’s about to say something but stops. “Why are you holding a candleholder?”

“Oh, right.” I put it down, embarrassed. “I thought I was going to have to fight an intruder naked.”

“With a candleholder?” He bites back a grin.

“Shut up.” I can’t help a small smile.

His pale eyes travel up and down my body shamelessly. He watches the drops of water rolling down my chest, the extra-small towel unsuccessfully covering my whole cleavage. It’s practically a miracle that my nipples aren’t showing. I can’t pull the towel up without exposing too much down there. Shit, I really should’ve checked the towel I picked.

“Why didn’t you go to Vic’s?” I ask.

He shrugs carelessly. “Because I don’t want to. I want to be here.” His lips quirk up into a grin. “With you.”

The lust in his eyes speaks a language only I know.

“Did something happen?” he asks before I can tell him to get out.

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“With that son of a bitch. Did something happen?” He steps closer, anger clouding his judgment.

It clicks in my head.

“Caleb?”