The Rule Book

by Sarah Adams

Because the last time I saw Derek, my college boyfriend, was when I was breaking up with him.

he can shove his opinions up his ass.

I look at Nathan. “Can you please ask Cupid to stand down so I can leave?”

But dammit, I do. Because this is Nora. My Nora. And this is why I told myself not to look in her eyes, because then I’ll see everything we once were reflected in them. I’ll see that she’s more gut-wrenchingly beautiful than ever, and no matter what she does or where she goes, in my heart she’ll always be mine. And I hate her for it.

I wanted to spend my life with Nora, and it turns out I was only ever a brief distraction for her.

“I took your virginity,” I say bluntly, and watch as red splotches rise on her cheekbones. “In your dorm room on your pink comforter. You cried after and told me that having sex with me was going to be your new favorite hobby.” She opens her mouth and closes it when I press on. “I know that you have a pattern of freckles on your right ass cheek that looks like the Big Dipper. And that you make a soft little noise right before you—”

“Derek—after this, I will stop asking you for things—but please…I’m begging you. Will you let me color-code the rules?”

He thinks he hates me because I’m a woman in a world that supposedly belongs to men, but why he should really hate me is because I’m smarter than him

Because when a man doesn’t encourage you to reach for the stars, Nora Bug, he’s putting you in a glass jar to contain your light. We don’t have to settle for air through holes poked in the top of a lid. We get to become stars ourselves

and I need every single one of them or my chipper turns into a chip on my shoulder.

This is all I have to offer, so I’m going to put everything into it.

I’m angry that I want her. And frustrated that I can’t have her.

“Are you still in love with her?” For once I’m too tired to fight with him. “Yes, I am. Deeply. Terribly.”

And thankfully, Derek doesn’t wake me up to fire me—he doesn’t even wake me up to tell me my head is lying against his arm.

Hey, I’m still in love with you and unless you love me back, we can’t do this because it hurts so damn much to be near you and not have you. But then she says, “Is it…do you…do you still hate me?” My heart rips down the middle. Do I hate her? I hate that when your mouth curves into a smile, I can’t kiss it. I hate that you hold my heart in a vise grip and you have no idea. I hate that I’ve never been able to move on from you—not for a single day. I hate that if I were to tell you all of this, you’d leave, and I’d be left vulnerable and bleeding out at the bar.

“You were fully clothed, but your tongue was down his throat and you two were holding up your ring fingers like middle fingers. A very screw-you-we’re-in-love photo. Epic…but…”

“Why would you even consider doing that?” His smile curves softly and when he shrugs, the combination is almost sad. “Because it’s for you.”

I end the call, unable to tear my eyes from the unfortunate object in the room. There’s only one bed.

And when I wake up at two in the morning and realize I’m completely tangled up with him—leg draped over his, stomach against his side and face pressed into the crook of his shoulder with his hand spread over my hip, it feels like an alarmingly big deal. More alarming is I can’t bring myself to move away.

I slide my eyes to Derek and…he winks at me. Holy Mother of Harry Styles. What was that? My stomach swoops like I’m in turbulence on a plane. He blatantly broke rule number eighteen (not that we’re supposed to be tracking it). I can’t believe the way my body responds to him. It’s unearthly. I’ve slept with other men—good-looking men, I might add—and my stomach never swooped. Not once. And all Derek has to do is wink? He’s always been able to undo me in a way that terrifies me.

But I’m not with that Derek anymore, am I? He’s changed. And so have I. This Derek saw that my career was in trouble, and he was willing to do whatever was necessary to protect it. The difference is unmistakable. The Derek I dated in college was a boy. This Derek is a man. And it would seem he’s a trustworthy one. “I sure did marry him.”

But the way Derek is looking at me right now makes me feel as if my body is the standard all other bodies should be judged against. Like mine is his ticket to eternal happiness. Like I am a freaking goddess—and I realize no one has ever appreciated my body quite like Derek.

But also…What if nothing bad happens? What if…it’s just wonderful?

Derek tears his mouth away and looks up toward the top of the beach where sure enough, there’s a few people cupping their hands over their brows to give them a sun-shielded view of us. “Shit. I’m sorry, Nora. That was…” “Incredible,” I say, touching his face so he knows I don’t regret it. I don’t regret one second of it.

But not just in a physical sense. I want her as my best friend, my favorite person to talk to, the one who I walk with through every good and bad season. I want so much more with her than just that kiss on the beach.

Derek is on the floor foam-rolling his right hamstrings when I storm into the room. His eyebrows lift. “First of all, that is a very scandalous position you’re in, sir.” “I’ve learned not to do this stretch around any cameras for a reason,” he says. “Do you have a second following the first?” “Yes,” I say with one final, definitive Nicole-esque head nod. “Let’s break all the rules, Derek Pender.”

She owns me.

“I only lost because I want to show you in a physical way that I’m intentionally and completely vulnerable to you, Nora. That I’ll gladly lose to you every day of my life—because for me, the prize is just being near you.”

But now…I feel love love. It’s different somehow. Inarticulate and elegant all at once. Soothing and aching. Before, my love for him lived on the outside of my skin, and now he’s wormed his way into my chest cavity and pumps through every chamber of my heart. When he’s hurting, I’m hurting.