Defining the Rules - Mariah Dietz Page 0,46

hearing when I visit and how mine will pale in comparison.

“You’re right,” I say. “We should go out.”

Arlo nods.

“Let me change, and I’ll be right out. If you’re hungry, there’s food in the fridge. Spare ribs and salad, and I’m not sure what else my step-mom put in the bag.”

“Why do you always assume I’m hungry?”

“Blame my mom. Or maybe it’s a Texas thing? We always feel like we need to feed people.”

He grins. “So, you’re saying I should consider moving to Texas?”

“Only if you want to live in the best place on earth.”

He tips his head back as he laughs. “Get dressed.”

I pick a shirt I bought in anticipation of my trip to Texas, a black blouse that hugs me in all the right places and makes my chest look more impressive than it is. I pull on dark jeans and a pair of sandals that show off my recent pedicure.

I head to the bathroom to apply some makeup, choosing bold colors to highlight my lips and an inky black to outline my eyes.

“Is Rose ready?” I ask, grabbing my keys and dropping them into my purse before checking to see if the cat has enough food.

“Oh, good, I was just about to feed Juliet,” Rose says as she comes out of her room wearing a dress that barely reaches the bottom of her ass. “You look hot,” she says, smiling at me.

“Risking sounding like my dad, but are you worried you’re not going to be able to sit down tonight?”

Rose smiles, grabbing a bottle of liquor from the top of the fridge. “You know me. I never stay at a party for long.” She winks and turns to Arlo. “Where are we heading?”

He licks his lips as he stands, the movement a little slow, making me wonder if his knee is hurting him. But then he flashes a smile and takes a step without any sign of pain. “Don’t worry. I’ve got that covered. You guys can ride with me. I’ll be your ticket in.”

“Pretty sure we can get in without a ticket,” Rose says, fixing her lipstick in the mirror that hangs next to the door.

Arlo nods. “Likely, but don’t deflate my ego just yet.”

My bomber jacket isn’t nearly as warm as I’d like, but Arlo starts his SUV, and the air blows hot instantly.

“Are we meeting your friends?” Rose asks.

Arlo nods. “Most of the team will be out tonight.”

Rose’s eyes flash to me and then the back of Arlo’s head. “Tell me Ian is going to be there.”

“Ian?” Arlo and I both ask at the same time.

“Have you seen him?” she asks me, knowing I haven’t. I only went to Matt’s football games to support him. I haven’t paid attention to Brighton’s roster at all. “Hoooootttt,” she says. “So hot.”

“You say that about half of the male population at Brighton,” I remind her.

“No. Ian is like top five percent.”

“And you haven’t slept with him?”

She shakes her head. “He had a girlfriend for the past two years.”

I cringe. “You’re hoping to be his rebound?”

“It’s my favorite role,” she says, fixing her hair. She stops as though suddenly realizing something. “We should have brought your car,” she says to me. “Arlo’s going to be looking for a hot rebound tonight as well.”

I ignore the way my lungs seem to constrict, making it difficult to breathe for a full minute. “That’s okay. I can always call a Lyft or something.”

“Do you really have that low of expectations of me?” Arlo asks, glancing into the rearview mirror. “I’m not going to drive you guys to a party and then leave you without a ride.”

“No. It’s okay. If you want to leave, you can. I don’t mind.”

“Liv,” he says. “Stop arguing.”

“I’m serious. It’s no big deal. You’re free to do your thing.”

“My thing?’ he asks.

“You know what I mean.”

“No. What do you mean? Are you permitting me to have sex with someone?”

He’s toying with me, I can tell by the smile in his voice, and though I talk a big game with not being a prude because my best friend talks about her conquests without a filter, my cheeks flush at the thought of discussing sex with Arlo, and my lungs seem frozen into this new shape that makes catching my breath seem impossible.

“How was dinner at your Dad’s?” Rose asks, saving me from any more embarrassment. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you this week. How were the tyrannical toddler-wanna-be-teens? Awful?”

“They’re always awful,” I tell her. “Colton’s getting a dog

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