The Rule Maker (Rule Breakers) Page 7

  “I should probably—” Before I could scoot out of the booth, I spotted Zoey staring at me, her fingers straining white against her glass. “Flash!” I gripped the table, steadying myself as I became the sole focus of her sudden irritation. It’d be best to grab my crutches and get out of here, but I found myself reaching for my beer instead, taking a deep pull. I wanted to be near her, even as the target of her wrath.

  She stiffened as she realized I wasn’t moving to leave. “Mr. Covington. What a surprise.”

  A series of looks passed between her and her roommate. I wasn’t fluent in girl eye-speak, but I figured none of it was a testament to my character. I regretted that night back in November, if only because I’d obviously caused her pain.

  “I thought we were on a first-name basis by now,” I said as Zoey slid into the circular booth next to her roommate, directly across from me.

  She didn’t say anything, just took a sip of her drink.

  Lainey glanced over at me and narrowed her eyes. Then she cleared her throat and said, “Did you know that Ryder and Brogan used to go to school together?”

  “Almost got me kicked out with the pranks we pulled,” Brogan added, pulling Lainey closer.

  I thumbed the bracelet on my wrist, remembering Jason’s pleas to not fuck up anymore. I may have kept my promise to remain in school, but it didn’t mean I quit doing stupid teenage shit entirely. “I was a bad influence on you, Starr,” I said, and took a sip of beer.

  “Not surprising,” Zoey cut in.

  As much as I enjoyed the hole Zoey and Lainey were burning through my skull, I decided this was a good time bow out. I tapped my mug on the tabletop and said, “I should be going.”

  “C’mon, man. Sit a while. At least finish your beer.”

  Lainey smacked him in the chest.

  Brogan looked at her, wide-eyed, not even noticing the tension in the booth. Some things never changed. “What?”

  Zoey let out a long breath and closed her eyes. “It’s fine,” she said, but it was clear she was only saying it to be polite.

  I looked around the group. It’d been a while since I’d hung out with anyone, not since my accident. “Okay. For a few more minutes.”

  I took another swig of my beer.

  Brogan’s phone buzzed on the table. His brows pinched together as he looked at the screen. “I have to take this.” He kissed Lainey’s forehead, and I stood to let him scoot out.

  And then there were three.

  Lainey drummed her fingers on the tabletop and then cut her gaze to me. “So, Ryder, I hear you’re working with Zoey to fix up a resort in the mountains.”

  “We’re in negotiations.” I’d been a dick and ignored her email all week while I tried to figure out a plan to convince Jason to sell the place. Jason remained adamant about keeping it. Looked like the resort would be happening after all.

  Zoey lifted a brow. “Oh?”

  “I was just going to email you tonight.”

  She frowned. “I see.”

  Yeah, she didn’t buy my bullshit.

  Lainey’s phone vibrated along the surface of the table. “Crap. It’s my mom.” She bit her lip and looked from me to Zoey.

  “Go ahead. Take it,” Zoey said.

  “You sure? I can call her back later.” Lainey clutched at the phone, clearly warring with herself.

  “No big deal.”

  Before scooting out on Zoey’s side, Lainey leaned in and whispered in my ear. “I can get very creative with a ballpoint pen. Or any office supply, really. Don’t screw with my friend.”

  And with that, she smiled sweetly at me. Zoey slid out of the booth to let Lainey out and then resumed her position across from me.

  After she settled into the seat and took a slow sip of her drink, she said, “Really? Negotiations?”

  I moved closer to her in the booth, and the intoxicating scent of her vanilla shampoo hit me like a blow to the face. She always smelled so damn good, like a cupcake, or an expensive pastry at one of the specialty shops downtown.

  “I’ve been thinking all week about your email,” I admitted. Correction: she’d been on my mind all week. I’d pulled up that email at least a dozen times but couldn’t find it in me to reply.

  “And?” she prompted.

  I shrugged. “The designs were okay.” I knew nothing about design elements, but everything seemed to be there. Beds, tables, dressers, even a mini fridge.

  Her eyes bulged to cartoon-level proportions. I had a feeling I’d misstepped. “Okay?” Her voice climbed an octave. “Okay is for mediocre food and subpar sex. Heck, it’s used to describe Nickelback music.”

  “Hold up there. That’s being very generous to Nickelback.”

  She scoffed. “Exactly, Ryder. My work has never been described that way. Ever. Tell me—what do you need me to change so we’re on the same page with this project?”

  Shit. I never said the right things around her. The last thing I wanted to do was insult her skills. “Maybe okay was the wrong word to use.” I kicked back the rest of my beer. “I’ve never done this before. I know you’re ready to go, but I still have reservations.”

  “Can you please fill me in? I’m here to work with you. Not against.”

  I debated confiding in her. Those hazel eyes willed me to tell every damn thing to her. If I didn’t know better, I’d believe she really did possess mind-control abilities.

  “Jason bought this resort after his accident. For reasons I don’t agree with.”

  Her brows pinched together, and she shook her head. “I’m sorry, you lost me. What’s going on with your brother? I haven’t seen him since November.”

  “That night we were together?” Recognition flickered in her eyes, but I continued before she could get too pissed off. “My grandparents called to tell me he was in the hospital. He was boarding at a fundraiser and hit his neck on a rail. He’s paralyzed from the waist down.”

  Her expression went from irritated to crestfallen in under a second. “That’s horrible.”

  “It is.” My jaw tensed. After the accident, Jason closed up completely. It killed me to see him suffer and not be able to do anything about it.

  The music changed from a slow song to a fast, Top 40 beat. “I figured if you had to choose between me coming clean or keeping you in the dark for even longer, the answer was clear,” I said.

  “Answering a Would You Rather question for me? Doesn’t seem fair.” Her lips pulled into a smile. “Does that mean I get to ask one?” She looked at me as if to say if you dare. I liked that about Zoey—she knew how to read people. Like the fact that I really didn’t want to talk about my brother’s accident.

  “Fine.” I’d play this game with her all night if it meant that smile would stay on her face. Enough thinking about depressing shit.

  “Hmm…” She swirled the straw around her drink in slow, methodical movements.

  “Going to keep me waiting?” I said.

  Her eyes cut to mine. “Would only be fitting after how long you made me wait for an email response.”

  I put my hands up in defense. “Touché.”

  “Okay, I got it.” She took a sip of her drink. “Would you rather live without the internet, or modern heating and AC?”

  “Depends. Do I have someone to keep me warm?”

  She flushed at this. “The questions are subjective. It’s up to you to decide that.”

  I moved closer to her, and the heat from her body radiated against my side. “Then I’ll believe there is someone and pick no internet.”

  “What happens when it gets too hot?”

  “C’mon, Flash. Never gotten creative with ice cubes?”

  “Right.” She fanned her face. “Wow, is it hot in here? I think I need another drink.”

  I pointed to the one in her hand, condensation trickling along the length of the glass. “You still have half of your Tom Collins left.” I liked the fact she turned into a fumbling mess around me.

  She cocked her head. “How d
o you know what drink this is?”

  The fact was when it came to Zoey, I remembered everything. I remembered the first words she spoke to me besides an introduction: I like your shirt. I remembered the first time I heard her laugh—she liked my joke about the Oregon Ducks; Zoey was an OSU girl after all. I remembered how soft her hair was, brushing against my chest as she fell asleep in my arms. Suffice to say, everything about her was memorable.

  “Would you rather take a year off designing, or a year off using your phone?”

  “Those really go hand in hand. I’m even really good at sending work-related emails from my phone. You should try it sometime.” A ghost of a smile worked across her lips.

  “Answer the question, Flash.”

  She let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. I guess I’d have to give up my phone. I love my job too much. Okay, my turn.”

  “Fine. Shoot.” I sunk into the seat and propped my arm against the back of the booth. My fingers brushed the exposed skin of her shoulder, and she shuddered beneath my touch, her hazel eyes hooding. Always so responsive. It took every bit of my restraint to not sink my hands into her hair.

  “Would you rather keep your bracelet, or win the Powerball?”

  “My bracelet.” The answer came out so quickly, I barely let her finish her question.

  “Thought so.” Her lips pulled into a full, satisfied smile.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “You’re not the only observant one. You don’t take it off, do you?”

  “No. Never. It’s a reminder, I guess.” I thumbed the frayed material. Jason had always been my touchstone, but now he seemed to need one more than I did. “I did a lot of stupid stuff when I was younger. My brother pulled me out of a really tough time.” I owed him my life. Who knew where I would’ve ended up without him kicking my ass into gear.

  A beat of silence passed between us. She hadn’t expected that answer; I could tell by the part in her lips.

  I mulled over my next question, deciding to push it further. “Would you rather have Jason as a client, or go on a date with me?”

  “Oh, um.” Red bloomed across her cheeks, and she went to stirring her drink again.

  Hell. The answer was written clear on her face. I’d messed up so badly that she’d rather have my brother dictate an entire renovation than spend a night with me. So, I bit the bullet and tried to make this situation less awkward for the both of us. “I’m just kidding around, Zoey. We already know I’m the way better option.”

  She rolled her eyes, but her relief was palpable. “Right.”

  I cleared my throat and drummed my fingers on the table. “I really am sorry for not saying good-bye a few months ago. I never felt right about that. I just wanted you to know that.”

  Her teeth raked over her bottom lip, and she broke our stare-down, suddenly very interested in the napkin on the table. “Thank you.”

  Lainey dropped into the space next to Zoey. “Seriously, why does the ladies’ room always have such a long line? I mean, does everyone have to pee—” Lainey looked from me to Zoey. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”

  “No, I was just heading out. It was nice seeing you again, Lainey.” I looked to Zoey, who still wouldn’t meet my gaze. “I’ll email you tomorrow with my choices.”

  Chapter Six

  Ryder

  I had to admit, Zoey was talented. The plans that she sent on Sunday were even better than the originals, better than anything I’d seen her design at Jason’s previous business. Even though Jason put me in charge of the remodel, it’d be good for him to have a little involvement. He’d been holed up in his house for too long, and making a few decisions might get him back into the swing of things.

  Zoey sure as hell would rather have him on the project.

  I groaned thinking about the other night at the club. I thought we were getting somewhere—I was getting a vibe from her. And then after asking her out again, there was no turning back. I didn’t even know why I’d asked her in the first place—I didn’t do second dates. But that look in her eyes, the hurt. It sucker punched me in the gut, and I’d do anything to make that look go away.

  Maybe that was the issue. After sleeping with her, it just felt different. Whether I liked it or not, I was drawn to Zoey. Her smile, her laugh, the way her hooded eyes burned me alive during the one night we’d shared together…

  I shook my head and focused on the road, weaving my way in and out of traffic.

  Shit, there was obviously something wrong with me, more than just a broken left leg, if I was getting philosophical before ten in the morning.

  I pulled into the parking lot of the doctor’s office, and the weight of the past few weeks eased off my chest a fraction. Finally, I’d get this damn cast off my leg and resume training with my team. A little rehab, and the leg would be as good as new.

  After cutting the engine, I grabbed my crutches from the backseat and wound my way up the path to the building. The final minutes of unscratchable itches and uncomfortable showers. Thank fuck.

  A few signed papers later, I was escorted back to a tan exam room where I waited, sitting on the crinkly paper on a table, staring at the human anatomy poster plastered to the wall. Dr. Edmond walked in, wielding a small circular saw and my chart.

  He smiled at me as the door swung shut. “Mr. Covington. How are you feeling today?”

  “I’ll be a lot better after the cast comes off.” I gave an easy smile, even if my nerves were shot to hell. It was the moment of truth, to see if I would ride again. To see if I’d be losing even more sponsorships in the weeks to come.

  He applied foam hand-sanitizer and reached for a set of latex gloves from the container hanging on the wall. “Then let’s get right to it.”

  After a quick examination, he pulled out the saw.

  I closed my eyes and lay back on the table as he turned it on and began to cut through the plaster.

  Don’t be screwed up. I need this.

  I would never describe myself as the praying type, but I sent a few desperate wishes to any deity who would listen.

  As he finished cutting the material, he snipped at a layer of wrapping and opened the cast. I glanced down at my leg, so much paler, my calf muscle significantly smaller than the one on my right side. The first few rides down the mountain were going to suck, I could tell already. The only positive in this situation was that this wasn’t my dominant leg, meaning I wouldn’t have to change board stances to accommodate.

  “How does it look?”

  Dr. Edmond took my leg in his hand, examining it carefully. “We’ll have to take another X-ray, but it looks like it’s healing nicely.”

  I allowed hope to slide out from where it’d been holed up and hiding for the past couple of months. “Does that mean I can go back to training?”

  “It means you should avoid any extreme sports for a while.” He eyed me seriously. “You were lucky this time, but if you take another bad fall on it, there could be permanent damage.”

  I slid off the table and tried to apply weight. Screw more time off. I needed to train with my team. Seattle’s walls were closing in on me at the thought of spending an indefinite amount of time here.

  As my foot hit the floor, stars lit behind my eyes and I sucked in a sharp breath. “Shit.” I fell back against the table.

  Dr. Edmond steadied me and handed me the metal crutches. “You’ll need to get used to walking on it. Your crutches will come in handy for the next couple of weeks while you continue to heal.”

  Everything in my life had always moved at bullet train speed, and the glacial pace I’d been at for over two months now was enough to drive me mad.

  A few X-rays later and the doc confirmed that the bone had healed into place correctly. I limped back to my car, still using my crutches. Pain shot up my leg and I winced with every step, cussing under my breath. I thought for sure when I got the cast off, everything would magically be healed. Just like with a lot of things lately, it was another unexpected outcome.

&
nbsp; As if on cue, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I shuffled my crutches around, propping them against my car, and then answered my manager’s call.

  “’Sup?”

  Andy said, “How’s your leg doing? What did the doc say?”

  I grabbed my car keys from my pocket and opened the door, sliding my crutches into the back seat. “He says I need more time.” I winced as I put pressure on my left leg and hobbled to the driver’s side door.

  “Good. Okay, okay, okay,” he mumbled.

  Shit. Another sponsor? “What is it, Andy?”

  “I got a call from Haywire. They were just checking up on you, but they sounded a little spooked you weren’t back on the mountain yet.”

  Hell, it’d only been two months. What did they expect from a broken leg?

  “I’ll be strapped back onto a board in no time.” That or I’d be back in the emergency room. Because there was no way I’d be taking more time off.

  “Great. You’re going to miss out on Chile this week, but we’ll be back in the States at the end of the month. You think you’ll be ready by the season opener?”

  That bought me a few months. Even if I was a little rusty, I could manage. “Yes.” I had to be. There was no other option.

  “That’s what I like to hear. Let me know if there’s anything I can do on my end.”

  “Keep my endorsements and my spot on the team.” I hung up and tossed my phone into the cup holder.

  Only a few more loose ends to tie up, and everything would be ready for my departure.

  I drove through downtown and parked in Jason’s office building, seven blocks from Zoey’s work. I wondered if she was working on drafting new plans for the resort. I wouldn’t blame her if she was getting frustrated. She had a job to do, and I was stalling. With Jason so adamant about this project, I shouldn’t hesitate, but just because he was enthusiastic didn’t mean it was good for his bank account.

  As I slid out of my truck, I craned my neck at the towering building that Jason had abandoned for a quarter of a year. I could count on my one hand how many times I’d been in his office. All I remembered was his office assistant, Heidi, who kept that place on a tighter lockdown than a prison yard.