Page 57 of Unspoken Rules (Rules 2)

I have a message. From him.

Haze: Winter, I’m so sorry. Are you home?

Oh, so now he gives a shit. I scoff and put my phone back down. I’m not answering him. The waitress brings us one more drink, and I stop caring about him. Allow me to rephrase: I stop thinking about him. Because I know I’ll never stop caring.

When it vibrates a second time barely ten minutes later, I can’t fight the curiosity telling me to check what he has to say.

Haze: You’re not home. Where are you? You better answer me.

And now he’s making threats. My head is a bit dizzy, but even in this foggy state, my heart taunts my better judgment and I decide to text him back. Right as I begin typing a reply, my phone dies.

Crap.

I spend the next twenty minutes thinking of what he’s been doing all day and why he suddenly seemed to remember that I exist.

“Everything okay?” a worried Ryder asks.

“Yes, everything’s good,” I lie. “Phone’s dead. I’m going to need yours to get a cab.”

“You’re leaving?” he asks, disappointment clear in his eyes.

“Yes. I should probably go. I’ve had enough.”

I don’t want to give the guy any more false hopes. He’s a sweetheart. He doesn’t deserve this.

“Okay, well, I had a lot of fun today.” He starts to lean in.

A loud voice in my head screams that letting him make a move on me is not the way to go. That it will only make things worse. But it’s drowned out by the flashes of Haze walking out on me and the tears I wiped while trying to fall asleep.

Loving Haze Adams has broken my heart in so many ways and I’m not even dating him. Ryder scoots closer to me and slowly brings his face to mine. I can’t move.

He doesn’t want you, Winter.

Not in that way.

Only a few inches separate our lips…

“What the fuck!” a familiar voice barks.

We both jump, almost spilling the beers on the table, and look up. In the dimmed red lights of the pub… I recognize him.

“Stay the hell away from my girlfriend!”

Before I can make sense of what’s happening, Haze reaches for Ryder’s collar and lifts him out of the booth.

“Fuck off. She said she was single,” Ryder says, shock occupying his features.

“Haze, let him go!” I clumsily get up and try to separate them, but Haze doesn’t budge, his eyes locked on Ryder. He’s too strong. It’s like I’m not even there pulling on his arm with all my strength.

Then, he takes a swing Ryder is not going to forget anytime soon. I screech when Haze’s fist meets poor Ryder’s cheek and he falls to the ground.

“What the hell’s wrong with you, you psycho?” Ryder yells, holding his jaw that probably hurts like a bitch.

“Ryder, I’m so sorry.” The words tumble out and seem to make Haze even angrier.

“We’re leaving. Now!” he hisses through gritted teeth and wraps his hand around my wrist.

He doesn’t bother looking at me as he pulls me toward the exit. How in the world did he know where to find me? Why is he saying he doesn’t want a relationship one minute and then hitting a guy who’s interested in me the next?