Page 4 of Unwritten Rules (The Sunburnt Hearts #1)

“Of course. Night, guys! Get home safely.” I smile at my niece, sadness swirling in my chest over the thought that after tomorrow, I won’t be able to drive over to Noah’s house and play with her whenever I want or spend evenings with her when he’s out of town racing.

I’ll just have to settle for photos of her, which doesn’t feel the same as witnessing her grow up before my eyes.

“Night, Tate. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I watch with amusement as Noah drags Nathan out of the pub while pushing the pram with ease, attracting a few curious glances when Nathan starts calling my name.

Laughter bursts from my lips, and all I can do is shake my head.

I leave the table on shaky legs and find an empty stool at the bar.

I swear that man doesn’t have an embarrassed bone in his body.

“What would you like?” the woman behind the bar asks while polishing a glass. She couldn’t be much older than me. I think I recognise her from high school, but in my tipsy state, I can’t remember her name.

“Just a vodka and lemonade, please.”

She turns to make the drink, and with nothing else to do while I wait, I pull my phone from the little black handbag strapped over my torso. Vision blurring at the edges, I clumsily click on one of the social media apps I check far too often and scroll, eyes skimming the usernames and photos.

Scrolling on my phone for hours was a bad habit I developed while working at Happy Limbs.

After long hours at work, all I craved was quiet time on the lounge.

I didn’t want to talk or see anyone, so going on my phone was my only vice—a way to calm the turmoil of the day.

It was also a way to stay updated on classmates from high school—mostly those who left Barrenridge after graduation.

Nash Stone is over in America, killing it with his basketball career, and Morgan Elliot is somewhere in Western Australia, living a quiet life far away from this place.

I see many familiar faces from my year group around town, but we weren’t close enough to strike up a conversation, even six years after graduation.

I’ll settle for staying in the loop from the comfort of my phone.

The bartender places my order in front of me, pulling my attention away from the screen and to the condensation sliding down the glass.

With great effort—my hands feel too heavy to be attached to my body—I slip my phone into my handbag and reach for the glass.

I hate the feel of the paper straw against my lips, but I welcome the ice-cold liquid cooling my insides.

With a sigh, I glance to my right at the people sitting at the bar, sipping on their drinks in silence.

The man on the stool beside me catches my eye.

He looks familiar, but I can’t place him.

Where have I seen him before? When you live in a small town, you come to learn everyone’s faces and names by heart.

Barrenridge is not a town you can hide in, and this man is doing anything but hide with the intense presence he’s emitting.

I swallow hard at the sight of him. Stunning is one word I would use to describe his appearance. Followed by downright gorgeous. It’s not often you see men of this caliber walking the streets of Barrenridge, which is why I can’t help but wonder what he’s doing here.

Inky strands of hair cover his forehead, making it difficult to see his eyes as he stares ahead. Long, slender fingers hold the base of the whiskey glass firmly while the other drum mindlessly on the bar. Silver rings adorn some of his fingers, the metal glinting under the overhead lights above us.

My eyes travel up from his hands to his side profile.

The precision with which the sides and back of his hair are shorter than the hair on top, neatly trimmed around the edges, tells me he takes pride in his appearance.

The black athletic shorts and hoodie indicate he’s active, which has me wondering what this man does for work or if this is his preferred style.

He is simply breathtaking.

Talk to him , my subconscious screams at me. This is your last night in town. You should make the most of it .

I want to scold her for being so brazen in her approach to the mystery man, but I stop myself when piercing blue eyes meet mine.

The air in my lungs evaporates at the sight of them.

They’re like a calm ocean just before dusk—deep and endless with a hint of mystery.

I’m drawn to them like a bee to the hive, desperate to keep them locked on mine even if it’s to admire them for a few seconds longer.

“Do you have a staring problem?”

His deep voice snaps me out of my trance. I shift my weight on the stool and clear my throat, hoping he can’t see the steam of embarrassment coming off my cheeks.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to stare at you like that.”

The man’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, accentuating the sharp curve of his jaw.

He’s clean-shaven and tanned like he has spent countless hours in the sun.

Every inch of his strong features has my core heating up and my stomach rolling with anticipation.

A scar slashes through his right eyebrow, only adding to the mystery he alludes to.

I want to reach out and drag my finger along the healed skin, but quickly refrain from making a fool of myself.

A lazy grin turns up his lips, fuelling the fire simmering beneath my skin. “I don’t mind.” He brings the glass he’s drinking from to his lips and swallows the liquid. I’m mesmerised by the curve of his throat and how it moves effortlessly.

Jesus . What is wrong with me?

It must be the alcohol making me think these unhinged thoughts.

He clears his throat and places the glass on the table. To my surprise, he turns his body to give me his full attention. “What’s your name?”

The dryness in my throat is unbearable, like thousands of cotton balls have been shoved inside my mouth. But somehow, I clear my throat and utter, “Tatum. You?”

“Sinnett, but my friends call me Sin.”

“Sin…” I murmur, testing his name on my tongue. “What an interesting name.”

He tilts his head to the side, intense ocean eyes roaming over my face, down the base of my throat and stops at the plunging neckline of the little black dress I threw on before I left the house.

It was one of the last things I had yet to pack; I was considering leaving it behind since I didn’t know how often I’d get the chance to go out on the town in Sydney.

But the longer Sinnett continues to stare at my chest, eliciting a burning ache in my core, the more thankful I am that I haven’t packed it yet.

I clear my throat for what feels like the tenth time and gesture behind me. “Are you new to town?”

He shakes his head. “I’m just visiting for the weekend.”

I want to ask who the subject of his visit is, but Sinnett doesn’t strike me as the type of person who willingly shares information about himself.

Maybe it’s the overwhelming I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude wafting from him.

He might be giving me his full attention, but I can tell by his stiff shoulders and clenched fist on his thigh he is reserved.

“Well, welcome to Barrenridge where there is literally fuck all to do.”

Sinnett chuckles, the deep sound like music to my ears. It does nothing to ease the tension building in my core. “Yeah, well, if it has a pub then I’m easily occupied.”

“Then you’re at the right place,” I respond, turning to sip on my drink.

I take the pause in conversation to consider what the hell I’m doing.

It could be my drunken state or the fact that he’s the most handsome man I have had the privilege to lay eyes on, but all I can think about is what it would feel like to kiss him—among other things I can’t bring myself to dwell on.

He’s a stranger, so I shouldn’t be thinking this way, but it’s hard to ignore when my body is craving his touch.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“Forever Young” by Youth Group sounds through the pub, drawing my attention. I drum my fingers on the bar, intent on listening to the lyrics and not focusing on the man beside me, intense eyes fixed on the side of my face.

“So, Tatum, what do you like to do for fun around here?”

My heart slams into my throat as I drag my eyes to meet Sinnett’s. He’s looking at me with curiosity, but I catch the slightest hint of mischief. The side of his mouth tilts up in a smirk, and I’m seconds away from melting into a puddle at his feet.

I need to get a grip. I don’t know this man.

“I, uh… n-not much,” I answer, stumbling over my words.

“I-I mean, there isn’t much to do here other than work or come to the Barrenridge Pub for a schnitty and chips and a slap on the pokies.

Maybe if you’re lucky, the local pool won’t be inundated with children and you can actually enjoy the water without wondering if you’re soaking in piss. ”

My eyes flutter close as heat races up my throat. I need to stop drinking alcohol because it’s making me talk far too much, and in front of a man like Sinnett, it’s basically social suicide. Maybe I need to stop talking to him in general to avoid making myself look even more like a fool.

Sinnett drags his tongue over his teeth, nodding slowly. “Uh-huh. So you’ve never done anything… crazy ?”

I tilt my head to the side, searching his face. The cheeky smile indicates he’s referring to a hidden agenda, but I’m clueless as to what. It isn’t until he leans forward, rests his elbow on the bar, and glances down at my body do I realise what he’s referring to.

Oh. Oh .

My cheeks flame at the realisation and my heart thunders in my chest. “I, um… no, I haven’t.”

A grin spreads across his stunning features. “Well, I happen to think tonight should be the night you let loose. It could be fun.”

Maybe he’s right. It’s my last night in Barrenridge before I move to Sydney. What’s the harm in having a little fun with a stranger? I mean, I could be murdered, but it’s a chance I’m willing to take.

I should be asking myself why I’m putting myself in danger. On any other day, I would’ve declined such a request in a heartbeat because the cons of doing this far outweigh the pros. But at this moment, staring back at Sinnett, I can’t find one con—only pros.

Sinnett reaches over to rest his hand on my bare thigh, the touch so electric I fear I might go into cardiac arrest. His slender fingers graze across my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

A shiver races down my spine as warmth explodes in my core.

Fuck it .

I square my shoulders and offer him the biggest smile I can muster. “One night of crazy fun?”

Sinnett smirks and grips my thigh. “It’ll be a night you won’t forget.”