Broken Rules

Chapter Thirty Five

My nervous mount as I rap my knuckles twice against the front door of Wells's house. Turning around, with a bag of Thai food in hand, I glance out at the street from the porch of his mom's quaint little bungalow while I wait for him to answer the door.

The weather hints at the changing season as summer nears its end, a subtle cooling settling in the air. Fall has always been my favorite season, and the idea of returning home with Wells to experience all the autumnal activities only makes me love it even more.

I just need to talk with him first.

We had dinner plans yesterday, but he canceled, which was more than okay because it gave me some time to organize my belongings and pack up before heading home tomorrow.

I don't know where we stand once we go back to work. But I'm thinking maybe we could discuss our situation with HR and try to find options that allow both of us to work at the Seattle Sun Times and still date.

Or maybe, I could focus on submitting my book to literary agencies with the aim of getting signed. But, I'm not entirely sure if I'm even that good.

Whatever path we choose, one thing remains crystal clear to me—I'm in love with Wells Hansen.

The last two days, I've been teeming with nervousness and excitement at the thought of seeing him. I've rehearsed in my mind what to say, how to convey that I love him and that I'm not ready to let go of what we have once summer ends.

All this time, I've been slowly falling for him. With Wells, it has been undeniably different. Beckett was just someone to fill the void, to pass the time. And while I thought I loved him, I'm now certain I never truly did.

But with Wells—God, with Wells, it's the kind of falling that would hurt if I hit the ground, the kind that would shatter me into a million pieces if things didn't end up working out.

So, I'm hoping—no, praying—that he shares the same feelings as I do because I'm not sure what I'd do if he doesn't.

I hear the door creak open, swiftly turning on my heel to catch sight of Wells. He's clad in his navy blue Hansen's Coffee T-shirt, paired with light-washed jeans. His tousled, wavy, espresso-brown hair gives the impression that he has run his hands through it too many times today.

He might be the most handsome man I've ever seen.

"Hi," I murmur, my lips forming a smile I'm trying hard to suppress.

"Hey," he greets me with a closed-lip smile as he stands there in the doorway. It's not his normal bracketed smile, but I love it all the same.

I edge closer to him, thinking we're going inside, but when he doesn't move, I say, "Um, I brought Thai food," raising the takeout bag for him to notice.

"Let's eat it outside," he suggests, stepping out and planting a brief peck on the corner of my lips before closing the door behind him.

"Out here?" I ask, shifting back a step to allow him to pass. My gaze drifts around the compact porch, taking in the two planters flanking the door and then the steps just behind me. There isn't really anywhere to sit aside from the steps. "Wouldn't you rather sit inside or in the backyard where there's a table?"