Page 141 of Unbroken Rules (Rules 3)

He swirls me up and throws me over his shoulder like I’m weightless. Here I was, full of good intentions about having a mature, serious conversation, yet here I am, laughing my head off as he kicks open the door to the guest bedroom.

“What are you doing?” I wiggle around.

“What do you mean? That sounded like the beginning of you leaving. I’m not taking any chances.”

I laugh even harder. Next thing I know, I’m lying on the uncomfortable pull-out bed in Vic’s guest room with Haze atop me. He presses his lips to mine, and I kiss him back without blinking. This guy has got many types of kisses. The “regular” kisses and the “I’m going to strip you down in a few minutes” kisses. I know he’s not kissing just to kiss. This isn’t happening. As much as I want it to, there’s so much left to resolve…

When he lowers his head to my stomach and scatters kisses all over my skin, I know my goodwill might not enough.

Winter, what are you doing? Stop!

He needs to explain.

He needs to explai…

He needs to expla…

He needs to ex…

And we’re naked.

We haven’t moved a muscle for at least twenty minutes. Tracing circles on Haze’s bare torso, I concentrate on his heartbeat. This has to be hands down my favorite sound on the planet. Except for when Mr. Rory, my high school math teacher, told me I’d passed. I swear, I cried.

Haze’s smile quirks when my stomach grumbles. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m good.” I am starving, but it would require moving, which is something I strictly refuse to do right now.

He nods. My stomach grumbles again a few minutes later, and Haze sneaks out of bed without a word. I groan, rolling over. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making sandwiches. You’re definitely hungry.”

The thought of him making me a sandwich butt naked is enough motivation to pull me out of bed. After I’ve thrown one of his oversized T-shirts on, that is. I may be comfortable with him, but I’m not walking around naked comfortable. I make sure to grab him a pair of sweatpants at the same time. He might be making sandwiches now, but we might end up discussing more serious topics, and I doubt I’ll be able to listen with his junk out.

I sit around the table and stare at him. I don’t know what I’m drooling over the most: his ass or the sandwich. Let’s call it a tie. Unfortunately, he takes the hint when he sees I brought him clothes and puts his sweatpants on, sliding a plate over to me and sitting down. I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s past 2:00 a.m.

“We should talk,” I begin once we’ve eaten.

“I know…” He looks down. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

I grab his hand, and it seems to boost him with the needed strength to carry on.

“I told you it all started that day at the airport. Remember the call I got?”

I nod.

“The man who called to tell me about Marcus wasn’t just some guy I knew back home. He tipped me off from beginning to end. He was part of… something bigger than I could’ve ever imagined. They call it the organization. They worked with Tanner in the past, which is why they helped me. They owed him. They’ve been giving me tips to help me find Des’s killer since day one. They just had one rule: no one could ever know about them.” He squeezes my hand. “It doesn’t excuse that I lied to you, I know that. Nothing does. But maybe it can help you understand why I did what I did. When Caleb told you the truth on your birthday, it set them off. They wanted to make me pay for risking to expose them. They knew the only way to truly hurt me would be to hurt the person I love most… You.”

Argh. Stop, heart.

He pauses, dragging a long and deep sigh. Why do I feel like it’s about to get worse?

“What happened to your father wasn’t random.”

Panic takes ahold of me.

“They targeted you and your family specifically to make me their puppet. The only way they wouldn’t harm any of you was if I worked for them and we weren’t together anymore. That’s why I had to pretend to cheat.”

He scoots his chair closer to mine and motions to get on his lap. I don’t move, tense as a rock. He has to tug on my hand for me to oblige. Once I’m seated, he wraps his arm around my waist.