Page 65 of Broken Rules
“I hear you,” I whisper, closing my eyes, and goosebumps spread across my skin from the warmth on the other side pressing back.
“And I see you—”
A loud moan brings me back to focus, and I blink a few times at the couple fucking on the bed in room four, almost forgetting I’m at work. It’s been a week, and he hasn’t returned. No Lennox, no Hunter, and my heart aches that I’m hurting him—that I can’t give him what he wants. Me. The man and woman are no longer watching me as they get lost in themselves.
Now, I’m the voyeur, watching their intimacy, their urgent need to please each other, showing how much they love one another, wishing I could act on the same desire I feel deep within my core. Their moans get louder as the man straightens up, driving into his partner harder, grinding, and I squeeze my thighs together on the couch, breathing to suppress the pulsing of my clit, ease the heaviness of my gaze, my cheeks burning, unable to look away as they come face to face, kissing, rocking onto each other to find their release.
Not waiting for them to finish, I’m out of the room, grabbing my robe and heading for the emergency exit, bypassing the cleaning cart next to the door. I can still hear their moans as I walk toward the stairs, slow my steps down when the sound gets louder, and halt once I reach the first landing.
“Fuck…” I whisper, leaning against the wall as I tie my robe tight.
Jared’s eyes flick up to me mid-stroke along the bottom steps, and he doesn’t react—he doesn’t stop fucking as Petra’s back arches, her scrubs pants drawn to her knees, eyes closed, head resting on his shoulder with his grip tight in her unruly curls.
A deep yearning hits me in my gut from their shared intimacy. The lust in Jared’s gruff pants and heavy gaze as she backs her ass onto him just as swiftly is one I’ve never seen on him before—no control, lost in the midst of passion, the need to have one another so intense to not care if someone is watching. I go back up, using the main stairs, my heart racing, hating myself even more, this place, these walls, and I can’t find my breath—breathe, fucking breathe.
Quickening my steps through the velvet chairs, I push past the eyes on me and the Vixen’s working, needing something to ground myself, the bar empty, so I head into the dressing room for my station.
“Where is it—” My eyes widen at my dove torn to shreds, and I hyperventilate, my body running hot while sifting through the pieces. “Please…no,” I whimper, grabbing the raven instead, and I lean on the ledge, tears blurring my vision as the paper bird crushes within my grip.
“Hey, Evie, look at me.” I don’t register who’s holding my face until my nose is buried in chestnut brown hair, breathing in deep, shaky breaths of mint and lavender. “Breathe, Everly.”
And I do. I inhale deeply, a cry replacing the next, holding on tight as Gin strokes the back of my hair, soothing me with her scent and voice until I’m no longer shaking—I back away from her embrace, staring into the same brown eyes as mine, the same pain. Still, hers has always run deeper, where I learned to suppress emotion.
I am my mother’s daughter.
“How are you breathing?” I ask, and her eyes instantly gloss over as she shakes her head.
“Oh, Everly. I don’t.”
“You don’t…help me understand. Why did we leave Cali?” She looks down, but I catch her chin, lifting her back to my eyes. “Mom, please. Tell me.”
Her tears release, and she quickly hardens her gentle expression. “I’ll tell you, but not here, not today. The time’s not right.”
I huff a laugh, shaking my head. “When will the time ever be right? You and I both know the secrets eating you inside will be buried with you in your grave.”
“Well, my grave won’t be the only one holding secrets.”
“What?” I blink a few times, Gin watching me for long seconds before walking away, and I let her leave.
Both of us merely exist while time passes by, and I’m sitting at my station with my hand tangled in my hair, scrolling through my contacts. If Gin won’t talk, then I’ll get my answers elsewhere. Something I should’ve done a long time ago. Dialing Dad’s number, I wait as the line rings nonstop and goes to his voicemail.
“Hey, it’s Marco. Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you soon.Ciao.”
I sigh, my questions stuck on my tongue, being quiet for too long, so I say, “Hey, Dad. You’re probably busy now, but I just wanted to hear your voice. If you have time, call me back, but don’t worry about it if you’re tired. I…” My voice cracks a bit, and I swallow deeply. “I love you. I miss you, and I wish you were here right now, is all.”
Ending the call, I drop my phone, wiping my cheeks dry, and groan, walking out of Vivid doors at the end of my shift. I stare at the ground because I don't want to look for a Mustang, to feel disappointed when he’s not here, though I deserve to feel the pain of pushing him away.
When I finally do, I halt my steps, my pulse racing at the black car parked next to mine, the instinct to run as I look back at the closed door, but I force myself to continue forward, removing the elastic from my hair to cover my mascara stained cheeks. Someone gets out of the passenger seat, and Lennox promptly leaves the parking lot, and I watch while continuing to my car, where my best friend leans against my driver’s door.
“Sadie?”
“So, I have this one friend who works here. A hell of a woman if you ask me—do you know Evie Russo?” She smirks, crossing her arms over her black sweatshirt.
With my unstable mind, time in the box, and wanting to give her space while she settles into her new life with Kylo, it’s been a while since we saw each other. “Shut your face and give me a hug.”
We both laugh as we embrace. “I’ve missed you,” she whispers, holding on a second longer before we back away. “Can we sit in your car? I havebignews.”
Nodding a few times, I look her over. Something’s different. “Must be huge with that emphasis.”
