Page 29 of Unwritten Rules (The Sunburnt Hearts #1)

I’ve known Raya since she joined the Wolves’ cheerleading squad two years ago.

From the moment she walked through the door on the first day of practice, Zoe swept in like a wrecking ball and took the girl under her wing.

Zoe did everything she could to drag Raya into her clique of mean girls, and I could see Raya was resisting, but knowing she had no other choice—it was either join them or be on the outs—she gave in.

Whenever we got the chance to talk, Raya expressed disinterest in being Zoe’s friend, but we both knew how persuasive Zoe could be.

I don’t know why she confided in me, but I didn’t question it.

Raya has been there from the start of my fucked-up relationship with Zoe—if you could even call it that. So her warning just now comes from a place of knowing what Zoe is like. For the best interest of myself, the team and Tatum, I need to keep my distance.

I despise the fact that Zoe thinks she has any say in what I do. I’ve made it clear to her on multiple occasions that I’m no longer interested, and still she’s trying to pull claim over me behind my back. And while I understand Raya is trying to look out for me, I can fight my own battles.

“Raya…” Tatum starts, but I cut her off, not wanting to go down this road when I’m not nearly drunk enough to deal with it.

“It’s fine, Ray. I hear you.”

Khai returns to the table with a tray of shot glasses filled with a mysterious pink liquid. He sets down two in front of each of us before taking his seat, a shit-eating grin split across his features.

I eye the shot glasses. “What the fuck is this?”

“A wet pussy shot,” Khai answers, fingers already reaching for the one in front of him. “And don’t even think about bitching out now.”

“Well, a free shot is a free shot.” Raya lifts one of the glasses to her lips. “Bottoms up!”

Khai and Raya down a shot each. But my focus is on Tatum, who is watching me, big eyes blinking slowly.

I offer her a shrug and reach for a glass, knowing that if I don’t drink this, Khai will force it down my throat, and that’s not something the public needs to see. “You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to.”

Tatum lifts one of the glasses, inspecting the bright liquid. “I’ve never had one of these before. It looks… interesting.”

“It’s fucking delicious!” Khai cheers before tipping his head back with the second glass pressed between his lips. A gasp of relief slips from his mouth as he slams the glass down on the table. “Damn, that’s the best wet pussy I’ve ever had.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” Raya muses, mouth tilted in a smirk.

I snort a laugh and consume one of the shots.

The liquid seeps into my veins, and warmth rushes to my head, easing the ache beginning to form at my temples.

Loud music and the tension in my shoulders is not a good combination, but the alcohol makes it bearable.

Tatum exhales a sharp breath and drinks one of the two shots. She grimaces as she swallows, desperately trying not to show a reaction to the strong alcohol. I smirk, watching as she reaches for the other one and consumes it.

“Drink up, Sin,” Khai says, shoving my last shot into my hand. “The night is young, so buckle yourself in for a good one.”

Khai drops into the seat beside me, sweat pouring down his temples.

Out of breath, he reaches for the beer he left on the table before joining Raya and Tatum on the dance floor thirty minutes ago.

“The Anthem” by Good Charlotte thumps in the back of my mind, rattling my bones, and I find myself bopping my head along with the beat of the song.

My gaze tracks Tatum where she hovers at the edge of the dance floor, dancing with Raya. Her hands fly into the air and her features light up with a smile, followed by laughter I can’t hear over the music. I wish I could. It’s become one of my favourite sounds.

“I don’t know how they do it,” Khai wheezes, and sucks in a deep breath. “Like shit, I thought playing rugby was hard.”

I snort a laugh. “You’re acting like dancing is the hardest thing ever.”

“I’d like to see you try, Sin. Trust me, my calves are on fucking fire and my hips ache.”

“You mustn’t be working hard enough on the field then if you’re fucked after thirty minutes of dancing.”

Khai blows out an irritated breath. “You’re just a hater, I get it. I’d like to see you try keeping up with those girls.”

“Not a chance,” I say with a shrug. “Over my dead body will you ever catch me dancing in a club.”

Raya wraps her arms around Tatum’s neck, their body swaying to the beat—carefree and effortless. My eyes linger on Tatum, taking in every curve that makes me want to lose my mind. She has no idea what she’s doing to me. How much she affects me. But it doesn’t change the fact I can’t have her.

“God, you’re like a lost puppy waiting for its owner to come back from war.”

I snap my attention to my best friend, who is hiding his smile behind the rim of the beer glass. “What?”

Khai sets the glass down, his eyes locking with mine. “You’re so obvious it’s almost painful to witness.”

“I’m not following…”

He slaps a hand on my shoulder, his body shifting closer to mine. “I know you like Tatum. Hell, a lot of guys on the team have the hots for her.”

Ice floods my veins. “They what ?”

“Calm your tits, Sin. Jesus. It’s like you’ve done more than just hook up the one time with how you’re acting over the girl.”

“Am not,” I bite out, hand flexing around the half empty cup.

“Are too.” Khai shifts his body to face me, but my eyes stay locked on Tatum.

“Look, you either need to go for it and accept the hellfire Coach Phil will rain down on you, or you need to let her go and walk away. With you being back on the field in a couple of weeks, you can’t afford to be distracted over a girl. ”

God, he’s right. I know he is, but it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t walk away from Tatum.

It’s as if I’m drawn to her in a way that has me desperate to be around her, but my mind demands we keep our distance because I can’t afford to go to war with her father over her—not when I enjoy playing for the Wolves and want to stay with the club beyond my contract at the end of this season.

But if I break Coach’s one rule, or even think about touching his daughter, there is no coming back from that.

Remembering the seriousness of his warning, I have no doubt he would do anything to protect his daughter.

I shove a hand through my hair and exhale a deep breath. My jaw clenches as I find the right words to express the turmoil raging inside of me. “I know, I just—It’s hard, okay? I don’t understand why I can’t stop thinking about her, and I’m even more confused about what I should do.”

Khai slaps a hand on my shoulder, drawing my attention from the dance floor to him.

“I get it, I do. And while I want you to be happy, I know that if you stay in this strange limbo of not knowing what the fuck to do, you’re going to spin out, and it won’t be good for you or the club.

We need you in peak condition, both mind and body, when you get cleared. No distractions.”

I wish he wasn’t so damn perceptive.

“I know,” I grunt, my chest aching with the weight of a decision I’m not sure I’m ready to make yet. “I just… It’s something about her, man. I seriously can’t put my finger on it.”

“Maybe it’s worth finding out why you feel this drawn to her,” Khai says, tone far from joking. “And if it doesn’t work out, then at least you know you tried.”

I open my mouth to respond when out of the corner of my eye, I see two men approach Tatum and Raya.

One is blonde with a crooked nose, and the other has frosted tips, like he just walked out of a 2000s rom-com.

Every muscle in my body tenses as I watch the preppy fuckers dance their way into the girls’ space, slapping on what they think is a charming smile, but I have no doubt their intentions are anything but pure.

Jaw clenching, I watch as the men separate Tatum and Raya. My blood boils.

“You okay?” Khai asks, waving a hand in front of my face.

I point at the dance floor. “Those two fuckers separated Tate and Ray, so I’m keeping my eye on them.”

Sensing the concern in my voice, Khai shifts so he’s got a clear view of the scene unfolding before us.

It’s taking every ounce of self-control I possess not to march over there and tell them to get lost. Could they not see the girls were happy dancing with each other?

Tatum smiles at the frosted tips guy dancing with her friend, but the gesture feels forced, not quite reaching her eyes.

His hands are on Raya’s hips, but she doesn’t appear uncomfortable.

My hands drop to my thigh, and I fist the material of my jeans to channel the anger tearing through my veins.

If this fucker so much as puts a hand on her?—

The edges of my vision scream red.

Tatum spins so her back is to the blonde guy, hand clutching her drink, and the motherfucker drops something into the liquid so quickly I almost missed it. Tatum turns to face him again, and the guy smiles, clearly pleased with himself.

Time moves at a snails’ pace and everything around me ceases to exist. I’m pulled back to the night my sister knocked on my door and told me what her boyfriend had done to her.

How he hurt her. I’ve never known fear quite like that moment, wondering the extent of what Ryan had done to her.

I wanted to kill him. I really did. But Mia insisted that I let it go because she had no plans to ever see him again.

It wasn’t good enough for me, knowing he could do the same thing to the next girl.

When she fell asleep, I drove to his apartment, ready to beat the shit out of him, but unsurprisingly, he wasn’t home.

For the sake of my sister, and not wanting to be thrown in jail for assault, I left it alone like she asked. I walked away when I should’ve done more. Said more. But I didn’t.