Rule Breaker (Mixed Messages, #1)

by Lily Morton

I feel suddenly sorry for him, because the kitchen seems evocative of his life – expensive, yet sterile and empty.

Gabe, you’re sick, and as much as you’re a shithead sometimes, I’ve trained you to be a fairly acceptable shithead to me. If you died, I’d have to go to all the effort of training someone else.”

“What was all that?” “All what?” “All that - the tender touches, the snarky conversation. It was almost like foreplay for sick people.” I choke on a prawn. “It was not foreplay for fuck’s sake. That’s the way I always talk to him.” “Well in that case, I’m surprised he hasn’t got you bent over his desk every spare minute that he has.”

“Tradition comes from something being so brilliant and such a good memory, that you try to recreate it every time that you can.”

I need to be inside you so badly, it’s all I can think about. Maybe we can fuck this feeling away.”

Lololol

“What made you relax so suddenly around my dad? It usually takes a while. Some of my uni mates were scared shitless of him.” He smiles almost nervously. “He has your smile.”

“I saw you filming me while I was screaming like a little girl.” I look at him beadily. “That’d better not end up on Facebook, Jude.” He shakes his head, diverting the subject, so I know it’s already on there. “How many comments?” I sigh. “Two hundred and forty so far,” he says happily. “They’re not all horrid either.”

before he can open it, it swishes back so forcefully that the rods nearly come off the wall, and Gabe’s face appears. “Oh my God,” he gasps. “Baby, are you okay?”

“I am not going private, Gabe,” I say firmly. “I’m staying with the NHS. It was fought for by my ancestors, and we need to support it.” “Your ancestors were farmers,” he says smoothly. “They were likely digging up turnips, so we will do what my ancestors did instead, which is pay for good service and complain when we don’t get it.”

“Listen to me very carefully, and think hard about what happens if you go over my head to do something for me that you think is right. What is my normal reaction?” Gabe slumps slightly. “Not favourable?” “No, to put it mildly.

He’d obeyed the instructions given to him by the hospital religiously, waking me every few hours to ask questions. He’d taken it very seriously, and didn’t even crack a smile when I’d said falteringly, “Is that you, Grandma? Shall I go to the bright light?”

“That’s Peter Gabriel, isn’t it?” I ask. “’In Your Eyes’?” He nods solemnly. “This is the song that makes me think of you.” I open my mouth, but he shakes his head. “Just listen to it.”

Bro pulling a Say Anything is a power move

I’m late. In fairness, it isn’t my fault. I have never been grocery shopping, let alone Christmas grocery shopping, so I didn’t know that I needed to book out the whole of December in order to find a parking space at Sainsbury’s.

Talk about throwing him into the deep end

“Go and get the trolley. I knew I should have listened to Jude.” I look back at him. “Why, what did he say?” “He said taking you to a supermarket was like taking Prince Philip to Laser Quest.”