Page 55 of Rules

“Just stating the obvious.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Hotshot,” I shoot back. “I’ve seen better. Waaaay better.”

Something flashes in his gray irises. I’m not sure what, but they grow darker as he stalks even closer.

Nibbling at my lower lip, I can feel my heartbeat rise.

Stupid, stupid heart.

He’s so close, our chests are almost touching. Almost, but not quite. We haven’t touched since that night. The night we don’t mention. The night I try my best not to think about, but most often fail miserably. Especially in the darkness of the night when I can’t sleep because the demons hidden in my heart are standing at bay, ready to let loose. Ready to haunt me and drag me into the darkness.

I stare forward, and because of our height difference, I’m looking straight at his pecks. The black shirt fits him nicely. Not too tight to seem like he has the need to show off his muscles like some gym rats do, but tight enough to compliment the shape of his body. Wide shoulders, narrow waist, and the abs hidden beneath. I watch his chest rise and fall, his hot breath touching my skin.

Something tickles my cheek. My breath hitches as I lift my eyes up, up, up, inhaling his scent deep into my lungs.

“Have you now?” Stormy eyes look at me with an intensity I haven’t seen in them for a while. Ever since…

I close my eyes, pushing the memories away.

You’ll not go down that path, Brook.I chant.You’re stronger than that.

I swallow hard, and just as I’m about to take control and step back, something wet touches my nose.

“What…” I open my eyes abruptly, just in time to feel something wet touch my cheek. My fingers fist, and I realize what I’m missing.Paintbrush.He stole my paintbrush.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I yell, rubbing against the smudge he left, but the only thing I’m doing is spreading the color all over.

Looking down at my colored fingers, I puff out a frustrated breath. Max laughs at my dismay, irritating me even more. Who the hell does he think he is?!

“You bastard!” I try to jump at him to take back the paintbrush, but he holds it high in the air and out of my reach.Why is he so freaking tall?

“Aren’t you an artist?” he muses. “You should try and be more creative. Bastard is so overdone.”

“Max, I’m serious. Give that back.”

“Nope, I think I’m going to keep it. Every time you piss me off, I’ll pull it out and add some color on you. It should keep things interesting.”

I try to reach the damn brush, just for the sake of it, but fail once again. “This is how you want to play it?”

“This is how I want to play it,” Max confirms. His smile is so big as he watches my irritation grow. I probably look like a mess. And not even a hot one. Wild hair, paint all over my face, and the rest of it is most likely red from all the jumping around. “Whatcha gonna do about it?”

I stand still for a few seconds, trying to catch my breath when I see it. A smile curls my lips, and I’m thankful my head is bowed down so he doesn’t catch on. Asshat will pay for what he did.

“Nothing,” I murmur, turning my back to him. “This is silly. You’re acting like a…”

“Hey, are you…” His hand wraps around my wrist just as I grab for the palette sitting on the worktable next to my canvas. He spins me around just before I can take it, but my fingers scrape through the color piled on the surface.

I collide into his chest, the impact leaving me breathless for a second. His fingers lift my chin, worry coloring his gaze, but it turns into confusion as soon as he sees my smile.

Without giving him time to react, I outstretch my hand and touch his face. He’s so surprised, the hand that’s been around my wrist lets loose. I pull out of his grip and reach for the brush.

But of course, it can’t be that easy. Just when I can feel the wooden handle under my fingertips, he yanks it out of my reach, making me stumble into him. The crash is so sudden, so unexpected, that for a second I’m prepared to crash to the ground. But in the last moment, Max’s hands wrap around me, pulling me into his chest.

We collide to the ground, all the air kicked out of my lungs when we fall down, and I can hear a strangled sound coming out of him.

“Are you okay?” I lift off of him, looking at his face curled in a grimace. I’m not even sure how he did it; he’s the one lying on the ground when it should have been me.

I nibble at my lip worriedly, my hands cupping his face.

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