Breaking the Rules (The Dating Playbook #2)

by Mariah Dietz

“You know I wasn’t trying to actually drown myself, right?” “I know. But, what would’ve happened if you’d died?” Her eyes rim red as she stares at me. “Did you even consider how we’d survive that? The guilt Lincoln would’ve lived with knowing he brought you out there, and Paxton for not having stopped you, and me on both of those fronts? Your parents, your sister, your grandpa? “I get it. I know how much you love the ocean and the animals, and you reacted. But, Rae, you almost died.” Her eyes turn glassy with unshed tears. “I want to hug you and throttle you every time I see you, and I’m terrified you’ll try something crazy again.”

“How did she get caught by a fishing net? Was she trying to pretend she was a mermaid?” More snickers and giggles. “It was in the newspaper if any of you morons read or paid attention to anything.” A guy pokes his head out from behind his laptop, a mess of dark and unruly hair as he combs over my sea of onlookers. “She was saving a dolphin, and you’re a bitch.” His attention stops at the girl who called me a mermaid.

“Don’t. I didn’t do it to hurt you.” She tries to glare at me, but her vulnerability is fracturing her anger. “You have no idea.” She shakes her head and starts to turn, but I catch her arm, forcing her to face me, knowing at the very least she owes me this truth as we hash out the broken and fractured details through a dozen different conversations that all rotate around the same single issue. “What? What do I have no idea about?” “Let’s go.” I release my grip, taking a step closer to her. “Tell me.” She squeezes her eyes shut and then slowly shakes her head. “I… No.” “You didn’t even look back.” “I couldn’t,” she fires. “I couldn’t talk to you because if I had, I wouldn’t have jumped, and then I’d have to live with myself knowing I let him die. I know that you guys think he’s just a dolphin, but it didn’t seem fair that his life was so inconsequential. Not when I’ve stood back and watched for so long and could finally make a difference.” Her chest sinks as she takes in a ragged breath. “I thought of you every single second. I fought for you. I cut off the damn drugs in the hospital because I was terrified I’d never see you again.” I lose myself in her words, in her truths, realizing for the first time, her guilt might rival my own. “I don’t trust myself around you,” I admit. Her blue eyes search mine, warmth setting in as she misinterprets my meaning. “I don’t trust you.” Her lips part like I’ve knocked the air out of her chest. “That’s the truth you want to exchange?” “...

Pax swallows me in a hug as Maggie disappears past security. He’s been aloof and absent lately, and I think much of it has been because, like me, he’s feeling too much. He and Candace broke up again, and between my accident, and the impending date of Maggie leaving, and his football schedule, I can feel his mental exhaustion with just a glance. His chest falls with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry I’ve been a dick.” My voice is too garbled to respond, so I hug him closer, reliant on his comfort and support.

“She really didn’t pay attention to you until you were two?” I nod. “Well, almost two.” “What changed her mind?” “Dad said I refused to let her ignore me.” I smirk. “My first word was Maggie.” Lincoln glances at me. “You’re not an easy person to ignore.” “Yet, you’ve both proven it’s achievable.” I throw the words out, surprised I don’t regret them though it feels like I should.

I mean, look at your brother and Candace. They stay together because they’re afraid to be alone, yet they don’t even like each other. What’s the point?” “Maggie thinks Pax is afraid to be alone, too.” “He is.” “Maybe. I don’t know. You should have seen Poppy with Mike. They never acted like they were obligated to be together. As close as she and I are, she was different with him, more vulnerable, more open, like she entrusted him with those parts of her that were difficult for her to expose to others—even herself. She was sillier with him, too, giggly and goofy. And he was even worse.” I chuckle at the memory of his expression each day when they parted for class, and he acted physically pained by it. “But it didn’t last.” “Maybe not all loves are supposed to. Maybe some are meant to end, teaching us lessons about ourselves and life.”

Her admission sits heavy on my thoughts, a reminder that Raegan’s had feelings for me, ones she fought against rather than for. The knowledge is a double-edged sword that I can’t manage to sheath. “I wasn’t lying when I told you that you deserve someone better than me.”

“Being in a gym can strengthen and heighten your skills, but you have a talent that can’t be taught. You move like you have skates on your feet. It’s crazy.” Her smile makes my chest feel both lighter and heavier, a conflicting and irrational sensation that leaves me light-headed.

It’s like everything in her falls, her shoulders, her gaze, even her pride slips, making me regret the words I fired like a missile to ensure it wasn’t my pride that was maimed. “I don’t know,” she says. “I don’t want to waste his time because I’m not sure about cetology anymore.” Whiplash. That’s the only word I can think of to describe the one-eighty of my thoughts and emotions. “What are you talking about?” Her eyes are windows with drapes that are always left open, telling me exactly what she’s feeling and thinking. While I can’t always know why she’s upset or bothered or amused, I can feel her emotions like they’re my own, and as I stare into her eyes, I lose that sense. She continues looking at me, her eyes wide with a silent plea like she wants me to understand. A sad smile paints her lips as she slowly closes her eyes. “I really do need to go. I’ll see you.”

The front door opens, and my thoughts come to an abrupt stop. My breaths stop, my heart stops—time fucking stops—allowing me this moment to study and admire Raegan. Her high cheekbones, bold eyes, and long lashes, and her perfect lips stained red. Her neck is bare, drawing my attention to her collarbone, the line of the dress tastefully hinting at her cleavage. Then she smiles, and it’s nervous and hopeful and so goddamn perfect I want to tell her to forget about the party and about the reasons we should be avoiding each other and focus on all the ways I can make her feel good, all the ways I’ll pledge myself to her pleasure and happiness.

I close the door, my mind taunting me with memories and thoughts and possibilities of what could have been. I imagine her looking at me like that had I not played the friend card and set up every fucking barrier in my arsenal to stop her from continuing to slide into every aspect of my life, making me want her in each part of my day and routine.

“Hang on,” I tell her, hopping down and making my way around to her. This view is even better, her legs are both revealed, her heels showing off her toned calves. Rae smirks when I meet her eyes. “I never pictured you being a leg man.” “I’m not.” Tonight, I’m pretty sure I’m a shoulders man. Or maybe a neck man, I think, gazing over her exposed skin.

“Ready?” I ask. She shakes her head. “Not really.” But she’s already walking forward. I grin, stepping beside her, my hand at her back. “You’ve got this, Kerosene.” She glances at me, shock rounding her eyes and slowing her steps. I have little doubt that she’s reliving the night I told her I was willing to take the risk—prepared to get burned as long as I had my chance with her. I consider telling her I was burned. That I still have the embers she left behind, ones that grow into a flame and spread when she’s gone and are insistent when she’s near—a constant distraction.

“I had no idea Dr. Lawson was hiding such a beautiful daughter.” Dad smiles at her again, his gaze appreciative. “Well, he’s full of surprises,” Rae’s bright smile hides the fact her tone borders on contempt, but I catch the notes, staring at her to decipher the words.

“It’s no problem at all.” Dad grins. He’s smitten with her, and he doesn’t even know smart, and funny, and kind she is. Or that her heart seems three times larger than average.

“You’re not going to tell me what’s going on, are you?” “With what?” His eyebrows check me, the silent, you know what, clear and intentional. Even with his mask back up, I’ve started to know him and see past the mask by the way he answers, and the way he doesn’t, which is sometimes even louder. I know by the hardness of his jaw, the flex of his fingers, the tilt of his head, the tone of his voice—I’m learning all of his details and each of their meanings. But he has no idea how broad his question is. I could easily list the things bothering me, including Maggie being gone, school becoming increasingly challenging, how I feel lost attempting to navigate my future. I could finally tell someone, admit that my dad is having an affair and has exposed distant and cold sides of himself that seem neither familiar nor warranted. Or admit that my mom is going to be crushed when she learns the truth, and how I feel obligated to be the one to tell her, and increasingly terrified as I continue dragging this mammoth of a lie. Or I could tell him how worried I am about Paxton, who has seemingly checked out of reality. Perhaps, I reveal how I’m risking my potential job offer with the aquarium as well as my future as a cetologist by continuing to fear the ocean. Then, I stare at him, realizing how his ignoring me has cast more doubt on myself than I ever thought possible, and how ashamed I am to admit the fact. I shake my head. “Not tonight. Tonight, I just want to pretend.” “Pretend what?...

“You said you liked it.” “I did?” He nods. “Paxton had asked what you were drinking, and you told him. Then, you told him you liked it. If you don’t like this one, we’ll get you something else.” “No, I do. I just didn’t know you knew….” I leave the trailed-off sentence, though I hate them because my words—like my thoughts—are floundering. His jaw tics, his dark eyes narrowed as he sifts through my thoughts with a penetrating and invasive stare. I question what he finds? What might be revealed tonight when I feel so raw and bare? “Because you’re pretending tonight?” I shake my head. “What?” “If you haven’t realized how well I know you, then you’ve been pretending for a while.”

“You have a view of the Sound.” “When I was a kid, I used to come up here and watch your orcas.” Hearing this makes my heart swell. A tie forms between us, one I have little doubt is made from fabrication and hope, knowing that just because he watched them doesn’t mean we share anything but a disconnected past. Still, a peacefulness seeps into my thoughts, picturing Lincoln as a boy, sitting for hours like orcas often require.

“My dad thinks he likes Picasso and his style,” Lincoln says, stepping closer to me. “But he keeps buying ones that reflect the styles of Warhol and da Vinci.” “Why?” Lincoln stares at me, an answer reflecting in his eyes, but before he voices it, he steps away, walking to the far wall, filled with extravagant and simplistic images of scenery. “Because my mom liked them.” He turns, moving his gaze across each wall. “This room is a reflection of them and the realities of how they couldn’t be together, just like these paintings.” “But, he still collects the works she loved?” It’s a question or maybe a point I’m not brave enough to add a period to. “Just because people don’t last forever doesn’t mean the feelings don’t.”

My confessions line up, ready to tell him I selfishly want to be his first priority as well as his last. I’m prepared to tell him my fears, my concerns, the threats that keep me up at night, the fragility of my hopes, and how they shatter a little more with each day.

“And your boyfriend didn’t mind you coming?” Raegan’s eyebrows raise as she makes her way to the table, holding all three glasses. A soft smile sweeps the frown from her face. “I don’t have a boyfriend. To be honest, I don’t have any desire to be in a relationship. I have too much going on.” She places the glasses in front of each table setting, her eyes illuminated with a heavy stream of thoughts that erase the chance of her maintaining her smile. I did that. I created that doubt. My chest feels like an opened flame, the burn so strong it curdles my blood and singes my thoughts.

“Do you look like your parents?” Gloria asks. “A little.” “Not really,” I interject. “Except for her eyes. They’re similar to her mom’s, and when she focuses really hard, she looks a little like her dad. Her brother and sister have some similarities, but even those are pretty damn thin.” Raegan stares at me like she’s surprised by my assessment. Gloria smiles. It’s smug like she knows a secret

“I can tell something is going on,” he says as we reach the door. “Please, tell me what is bothering you so much.” I can’t meet his eyes because I know he’d see the answer, regardless of my words. So instead, I shrug out of his jacket, missing the warmth and scent as soon as it leaves my shoulders. “This will be easier if we just cut ties. Stop trying to be friends. Stop worrying about hurt feelings. If you want to date someone, you should.”

I’m ready to lay all my cards out, company be damned. Let them know. Let everyone know. Maybe it will be easier to admit that I’m tired of staying away from her, that I hate the idea of not seeing her smile and being the one who she communicates in silent glances with. How I’m tired of feeling so damn undone when she’s gone, and how badly I want to feel her beside me through the bad and good, the terrible and fucking amazing.

“Too much?” Arlo asks. “You passed that marker when you asked about her.” “Shit, dude. You really do like her.” He rubs his palms together. “That should make the night interesting.”

“Are we really going to do this again?” I ask. “No. I’m fucking exhausted by whatever in the hell this shit is. I don’t want to keep dancing around things and pretending everything’s fine between us.”

“Our words are weapons, and our actions are grenades, and we keep aiming them at each other. I don’t want to hurt you, and I can’t take being hurt by you, so one of us just has to pull the pin and let it blow up before it takes us both down.”

“Lincoln, this…. We’re…. This doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t change anything.” I pull my hoodie over my head. “We just crossed the mother fucking Rubicon. Everything’s changed.” I slide my fingers across her wet lips. “Everything.”

Raegan Lawson is many things, but fighter is at the top of her list. “What?” she asks. I shake my head. “I was just thinking of when you were in the hospital…. Your nurse called you Zenobia.” “Zenobia?” “A woman who defied all odds and became a warrior queen a very long time ago.” Her brow creases. “I thought you weren’t at the hospital?” “Mentally, I’m not sure that I was.” Confusion pinches the outer corners of her eyes. “I didn’t know what to do. Your parents were there, your brother, Maggie. I didn’t know who knew what they knew.” I pull in a breath of air, tracing my thoughts during those days, trying to make sense of what happened. It feels like another lifetime ago, and yet the fear feels like it was born just yesterday, still fresh in my thoughts and chest. “I came every fucking night to see you.”

She stops abruptly, nearly running into me. The annoyance is still visible in her eyes, but along with it is confusion and vulnerability and something that looks way too damn similar to disappointment. It’s a look that undoes me, strips me of my anger and sense. “I can’t do it again.” Her blue eyes shift between mine for several seconds, attempting to read through my words. “Do what again?” “I nearly lost you to a fucking ocean. I’m not about to let you go test the threat level of some psycho. It’s not happening. You can be mad at me, you can stomp your foot, you can call me an asshole, but you’re not leaving.”

“What are you doing?” she asks, her words soft as confusion and sadness etch across her face. “I need you. I need you to stay here and have some fucking self-preservation. I need you in ways I’ve never needed anyone—in ways that scare the shit out of me. I need you because I don’t feel like myself without you.” I can’t manage to regret my admission because it’s a thin shave off the surface of my feelings and thoughts of her. Rae takes a measured step closer. “You scare me.” “You terrify me,” I admit.

“Astra indlinant, sed non obligant.” “I know this is tough to imagine, but not all of us speak Latin.” His lips tip higher. “It translates to the stars incline us, they do not bind us.”

“We have our own free will. That no star or god or any other power can force us to do anything.”

he doesn’t give a shit because he’s only loved one person, and these weddings are charades—an attempt to forget the love and anger he still holds. And I worry about that, I worry about that with you because I know you’d ruin me.” “That doesn’t scare you now?” “It scares me more to be away from you. To possibly lose you.” His fingers slip from my waist, weaving with my fingers. My fears become an infection, spreading faster than I can stop them, the rules and reasons I had committed to for avoiding Lincoln are each still valid, exacerbated by my dad’s actions. Lincoln’s dark eyes drift open, his lips pressing into a firm line before his fingers squeeze mine. “I’m not him, Rae. I’m not your dad, and I’m not my dad. And you aren’t either. Don’t let their demons define us.” “I’m afraid they live inside of us, and we won’t be able to prevent them.”

“I can’t promise this will be easy or that I will always be rational because you have the ability to undo everything inside of me with just a single glance, but we’ll figure this out.” “I’m worried you’re going to regret having me here once the sun rises.” Lincoln tags me around the waist with both hands, hauling me closer with a quick jerk. “There’s a lot that I regret between us, but none of those regrets involve being with you or talking with you or spending time with you. They revolve around my inability to get past the fears that you’ll be like my mom or that I’ll betray my best friend.”

“You make me want to fix the whole damn world.”

“Being a girl sucks,” she says, a dry chuckle following her words. “There’s this impossible balance we’re all working to find: being tough without being too masculine, being smart without being arrogant, being kind without being a pushover, being beautiful without being prissy, being successful without being too informal. It’s this massive scale that is constantly in flux, and the joke is on us because everyone is judging us—constantly—and more often than not, we’re our own toughest critic.”

Rae has always been solid—but watching them together now, has me recognizing exactly how strong their bond is. It evokes a splintering pain of jealousy and fear as I realize she will always choose him, and for his benefit, I’m grateful to know that, yet the hollow feeling in my chest where the thought continues to echo leaves me feeling empty and terrified.

But, understand this. I’m not fucking with you when I tell you I want to be the guy who’s good enough. I want to be the guy you want, and I’m not going to try to fuck that up. But, this house crawls with girls. You know Arlo and Candace. But, I can promise you this, I will try my absolute damndest not to fuck things up. I’ll be honest with you, and I sure as shit won’t cheat on you.” “I want to trust you, and I’m trying. I’m not great at letting people into my life, either. Even Poppy sometimes has to force her way into my thoughts with bribery and threats.” He grins, closing more of the gap. “Kerosene, you’re not very proficient at bullshit, either. Your vulnerability is sexy. Don’t hide it from me.”

“When are you going to realize that you’re the only one I see?” His words seem too big, too heavy—too much. I drop my gaze to the beige carpet of his room, but nearly as quickly, he moves his hand from my waist to my jaw, tipping my face up, waiting until I lift my eyes to his. “I’m in this. I’m all in, and I know if I’d told you how I felt after your accident, this would be easier, but I want this. I want you and me and us. And I’ll pull your weight and mine until you’re ready.”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning again,” her voice is quiet but clear. Her words gut me, making the regret that lies at the hearth of the fire that’s been burning in me for so many weeks expand. “You can’t allow that moment to define your future.” She faces the windshield. “My fear of drowning keeps me from going out on the water, but things between my parents have had me thinking for weeks. Marine biologists aren’t exactly a booming market. It’s tough to get jobs in the field and tougher to get one with cetology. I don’t want to have to rely on someone else to support me.” “Fuck that. Fuck him. Don’t lose your dreams over your dad and his mistakes. You can’t let that dictate your future. This is your dream, Rae. You can’t put a price on that.”

Caleb retrieves his spoon. “You and Rae need to tell Pax.” I don’t try and play dumb, if anyone pays attention, it’s Caleb. That’s why I’m here, asking him about the dean. “I know.” “I should also mention that while my circle’s pretty damn small, Rae’s a permanent part of it. She’s more than a friend, she’s blood. I know you could bench press my ass, but I’d still kick your ass if you hurt her.” He stares at me, unflinching. He’s a hundred percent serious. “I’d be pissed at her if she were to hurt you, too.” A small grin claims my face. “I’ll always be in your circle.”

“We should talk to Pax so that if he does come home, and sees you staying in my room, things don’t get weird.” “I’ve been worried about that, too. I called Gramps today, and I’m going to stay there tonight and tomorrow. I don’t want things to move too fast or talk to Pax until we know what we’re doing.” “Dating,” I tell her. “That’s what we’re doing. You’re my girlfriend and I’m your boyfriend, and we’re not going to dance around shit anymore or try to avoid the obvious which is that we want to be together.” Her eyes glitter with affection.

“Tell me you’re here to tutor me,” the voice is rough and playful and too familiar. I spin around and discover Arlo, whose eyes grow three sizes as recognition dawns on him. He throws a hand across his eyes, tipping his face toward the ceiling. “Rae Rae,” he says. “Do not tell Pax I just said that.” “Deal.” He groans, wiping his hand from his face and looking at me again. “Or the President. He’d kill me.”

Guilt fills his eyes. “I’ve never been boyfriend material. I’m learning. I swear, I’m learning. I’m never going to ghost you, and if I’m upset with you, I’m going to tell you, just like I need you to tell me when I piss you off.”

Lincoln steps forward, his hand gripping me above my elbow. “Stop censoring yourself.” I shrug him off, taking a step back from the energy that floats through me when he’s too near. “I have to.” “That’s bullshit. You say you can’t be yourself around me, but that’s only because you refuse to.” “Because you make me feel … messy.” I shake my head once, swallowing the word vomit that I feel like I’m choking on. “I care what you think. I care more about what you think than I’ve ever cared about what anyone has thought about me. Poppy calls me fearless and claims that I have all this confidence, but I lose it when I’m around you. I lose it all.”

I could feel you under my skin. I knew I’d be a goner this year.” Her smile is a fragile curve, and for a second, I’m suspended in time, memorizing every detail I can absorb like it’s an order from a higher power, telling me I will want to remember this moment years from now. “I had opportunities to sleep with other guys. I just didn’t want to. Not after I met you.” I take her face in both of my hands and kiss her until her lips are swollen and her eyes are heavy.

I want someone who looks at me like he’d part the sea and knockdown mountains if he had to—the way Lincoln looks at you.”

Lincoln glances at me. “Pax is staying at Candace’s tonight, and Arlo is going out with some guys on the team. I want you to come home with me tonight.” “Because you like my dress so much?” He chuckles. “I can’t wait to take that dress off you.”

He stares at her, assessing the words that make so many things seem suddenly trivial in life. The wins, the losses, my impending future, and the choices that I’ve resented for so long, none of them matter because while I love the game, the adrenaline, and the rush I get each time I step out onto the field, it still pales in comparison to what I feel for her. I would live in a one-bedroom shack as long as she was there with me.