Page 31 of Rules

Is this guy for real?

“You know the kind.” He shrugs. “Secretive. Obsessed with perfection. Self-critical to the point that nothing quite measures up to their expectations.”

This time I can’t help but laugh. “Dude, you couldn’t be more wrong if you actually tried.”

“No?” He eyes me curiously, challenge shining in those freaky light irises. “Then show me what you’re working on.”

“Try that reverse psychology on somebody else, Sanders. I’m not showing you what I’m working on, but it has nothing to do with perfection or me being self-critical.”

More like my self-preservation.

If he saw what I was painting, he would know, and he can never find out.

Taking the board off his lap, he jumps to his feet and slowly starts walking toward me. Dark, broody, and lethal. He stops just shy of the canvas, those piercing eyes staring into mine.

“What are you hiding?”

“Nothing.”

Just my soul. But of course, I don’t say it out loud.

I don’t know how long we stay like that, boring into each other’s eyes, waiting to see who’ll be the first person to back down. The first one to break.

He’s standing so close, too close really. I inhale sharply, trying to hold on to my breath so I’m not affected by his scent. A mix of soap, just a tad of cologne and something that’s plain Max. Spicy and intoxicating, it surrounds me and makes my head spin.

Why is he so close?

If I extend my hand, I’d be able to touch his chin. A light, few-days-old stubble is covering his jaw, and my fingers itch to touch it. Feel its texture underneath my fingertips, trace those pouty lips.

My own lips part, mouth going dry, as the memory of his mouth on mine assaults me out of nowhere. Gentle yet commanding. A shiver runs through my body, my teeth digging into the soft flesh of my lower lip and sucking it in.

Max’s eyes fall down, staring at my mouth. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

If it’s possible, it feels like he’s even closer than he was before, our hot breaths mingling together in the space between us. My heart is thumping wildly, so wildly I wouldn’t be surprised if it jumped out of my ribcage. The heartbeat echoing in my blood, in my mind, making me dizzy.

I’m so immersed in this moment, so immersed inhim, that I don’t hear the door open.

“Hey, Brook! I just wanted to…” Lia storms inside, but stops short when she sees us standing so close to each other. The only barrier between us is the canvas I’ve been trying to hide from him. We jump back, like two kids caught doing something naughty. “Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t… I’ll just…”

She starts walking backward but trips over Max’s backpack. She would have fallen if it weren’t for his quick reflexes.

Always the hero.

“We were just…” Max starts, but stops suddenly, at a loss for words. He scratches the nape of his neck, and if I’m not mistaken, I think I can see his cheeks flush.

Bile rises in my throat as my heart, which was beating like crazy only seconds ago, starts to free fall until it crashes to the pit of my stomach.

Lia looks at me, but I turn my head away, unable to face her.

“Max was just leaving.”

Pressing my lips in a tight line, I turn my back to them and start cleaning up, completely ignoring them both. Maybe if I do, the guilt and something else, something deeper and uglier that I’m afraid to name, will go away.

* * *

“So… you and Max?”

“Huh?” Bringing my nose out of the book, I slip my finger between the pages to mark where I stopped before looking at Lia. She’s sitting at her desk but is completely turned toward me, watching me expectantly.

---