Page 4 of Unbroken Rules (Rules 3)

“Maika is definitely cute. And Jay… He hates everyone. Puberty and all. Last I heard, he wasn’t hanging out with the best crowd.”

Haze scoffs. “Look at you. Worried about your brother hanging out with the wrong crowd when you’re practically dating a criminal.”

My mouth drops. “Can you say that any louder?”

“Sure.” The bastard clears his throat, “You’re worried about your brother hanging out with the bad ki—”

Laughing harder than I should, I slam my hand against his mouth. “Are you insane? Do you want them to think we’re trying to hijack the plane?”

As soon as I set his mouth free, his eyes grow as though he’s just realized something.

“About that. I forgot the bomb.”

I don’t think I’ve ever punched him this hard.

A small gasp erupts next to us.

Great. Snoring lady is awake.

“Ouch,” Haze laughs and lifts his hand to his bicep. I hope that leaves a bruise.

“He’s kidding, totally kidding. He’s such a prankster, this one.” I turn to the granny and force a giggle. She doesn’t bother forcing a smile, judgment creasing her forehead. Meanwhile, the idiot next to me is laughing so hard he can barely breathe.

Note to self: Never bring Haze Adams on a plane.

STUCK IN A THICK CROWD OF travelers, I stand in line and wait for my hideous floral suitcase to come circling around the baggage carousel. We made it to Toronto, and I even managed not to throw my man out the plane window—unbelievable, I know. The airport is exactly the same as I remember, brimming with nervous people rushing to catch their flights. Haze insists on taking my suitcase as soon as it comes to view.

“Anyone here to welcome you home?” he asks and grabs my hand. Shoulders ram into our side as we make our way through the crowd.

“Not that I know of. My parents are out of town with my siblings for the weekend. They’re coming back tomorrow morning. My dad called me a few days back to apologize. He would’ve been here otherwise.” I find some comfort in the fact that at least one of my parents cared enough to call.

“Your mom didn’t call you?”

“No. She probably had to work.”

He scoffs. “Damn right she does. On her priorities.”

I chuckle and Haze pulls me closer, feathering my forehead with kisses. Calm seeps into me. Haze is here. With me. In my home country. I still can’t believe it. We turn the corner, and all these good feelings come flying out the window when I look ahead of me.

And see him.

My heart drops.

He’s standing a few feet away from us. With his hands buried in his pockets and his black hair cascading down his tanned face, he glances around, searching, analyzing. He seems to be waiting for someone.

No, no, no. Don’t tell me that someone’s me.

He hasn’t changed one bit, the exact same guy he was when we said goodbye. The promise we made before I left eats at me. I didn’t think he’d keep his word. That he’d actually come and pick me up on the day I came back. He made me that promise before we fought. Before I left. Before that night, and most importantly, before I met Haze.

Like he’s on a timer, his head snaps up and he notices us. At first, he smiles. Then, he frowns. Because I’m not alone. My first instinct is to run, yet, my feet bring me closer to him. To the guy I didn’t think would ever be a part of my life again.

Intending to meet us halfway, the ghost from my past edges his way through the crowd, his footsteps slow but determined. He stops in front of us, and his eyes sway from Haze to me for a few unbearably long seconds.

“Winter, finally.”

“Hey,” I barely say.

“Who’s this?” Haze asks.