Breaking The Rules

Chapter 22

Oliver's orange and white fur caught the sunlight that streamed in through the back door. The cat purred as he paced back and forth, using my hand as a scratching post. He was oblivious to the mess going on inside my head. My body was stiff, sore from spending the night on the way-too-soft couch that I had half a mind to tell Booker we had to replace. I hadn't planned to sleep out here, but after last night—after everything—I'd needed to clear my head.

I glanced down at Oliver, scratching behind his ears as he leaned into my touch. "You don't know how easy you got it," I muttered. "Just eat, sleep, and get belly rubs. No complicated feelings or women drama to deal with."

Oliver purred louder in response, clearly content with his simple life.

What I wouldn't give to be a cat.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. I hadn't planned for things to go the way they had with Celeste. I mean, sure, there had been chemistry, and I'd made certain comments about how a real man treats a woman, but I didn't expect her to actually take me up on it. But then she showed up in my room last night, looking at me with those wide eyes, asking me to show her how it was supposed to be.

And damn it, I couldn't say no.

I'd made sure to give her the experience of a lifetime, to make sure she understood that whatever Miles had been giving her wasn't it. I wanted her to see what it was like to be with someone who gave a damn about whether or not she was enjoying herself. Judging by the way she had responded—by the way her body had melted into mine, the way her breath had hitched with every touch—I'd like to think I proved my point.

But now, sitting in the empty kitchen with her cat, I couldn't help but wonder if I'd made a huge mistake.

You live with her.

I wasn't the kind of guy to overthink things. The less thinking regarding the opposite sex, the better. But when I woke up on the couch that morning, finally leveled from the ethereal high, the potential consequences slapped me in the face. It wasn't just a random hook-up with someone I could avoid if things got awkward. This was Celeste. She lived here, slept here, existed here, in the same space I did. And I knew that if this situation went any further it could get messy. Fast.

I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to work out the tension. I made a pact with myself then and there: no more. I wasn't going to cross that line again. Sleeping with her was a surefire way to get myself into trouble, and I wasn't about to turn the house into some weird, tension-filled disaster zone.

And yet I couldn't stop thinking about last night. The way she had looked at me afterward, her eyes soft and content, like maybe I'd given her something she hadn't realized she needed. I hoped, for her sake, that it was enough to prove her ex-boyfriend was a joke—that she deserved better than what Miles had ever given her. She should be with someone who actually gave a damn about her, who would worship her, not just take from her.

Hell, I wanted her to know she deserved someone who cared. Even if that someone wasn't me.

I sighed, leaning back against the counter as Oliver hopped off the island and padded over to his food bowl by the kitchen table. I was regarding him in silence when the soft thud of footsteps on the stairs made my pulse spike. I looked up just as Easton walked into the kitchen, his usual laid-back expression in place. He grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl, completely unaware of what I'd done with his good friend a few hours before.

"Morning," Easton said, stretching as he peeled the banana. "Where's Celeste? She's not in her room."

My heart stopped for a second before it kicked back into overdrive.

Shit.

The last thing I needed was for Easton to dig around long enough to find Celeste curled in my comforter, where I'd left her last night. He was protective of Celeste, and if he knew what went down between us, there'd be no end to the questions. And while Easton didn't tend to solve his conflicts through the use of violence––like Cole did—I did know he could give a nasty silent treatment.

I cleared my throat. "Uh, I don't know. She might've gone out to grab some stuff for Oliver or something."

"True. I guess she must really be happy to have him back." Easton took a bite of his banana, then pointed at the fruit bowl with it. "You should probably grab one of these before Booker gets to them. I heard him in the bathroom. He'll be down in like ten minutes."

I forced a laugh. "Yeah, sure."

Easton glanced around, not seeming to notice my discomfort. "I'm heading out for my jog. You coming?"

I shook my head. "Nah, I'm good. Still waking up."

"Suit yourself." He gave me a quick nod before heading toward the door, pulling his earbuds from his pocket as he went. "Catch you later."

As soon as the front door clicked shut behind him, I let out a long breath of relief, leaning forward and resting my head in my hands. That was way too close. I couldn't risk Easton—or anyone, really—finding out about what happened. Not yet, anyway. I needed to figure out where things stood with Celeste first.

Oliver padded back over to me, looking up with those big, trusting eyes, and I leaned down and scratched behind his ears again, trying to calm the storm brewing inside my head.

Celeste was officially off limits. No matter how convenient it would be. I couldn't afford to distract myself or mess things up with my teammates. But as much as I tried to convince myself that I'd stick to that plan, the memory of Celeste's lean body against mine, the softness of her skin, and the way she had looked at me as she came undone kept coming back.

And deep down, I knew this was going to be a lot harder to walk away from than I wanted to admit.

_ _ _ _ _

author's note:

Hi friends!

What do we think? This chapter was a bit of a short one. I'll come back and add to it during the rewrite. 

Happy reading!