The Rule Breaker - Crystal Kaswell Page 0,100

of Oliver's friends.

A few cute women he and Holden invited.

My brother is talking to one of them. She's pretty. Short and curvy with bright pink hair and all black attire. I'd say she's his type, but he doesn't have one.

He sleeps with everything that moves.

Not that Holden is the picture of chastity.

More that—

Uh—

He's looking at me. Holden. His gorgeous grey-green eyes are fixed on me. The flecks of grey are glowing in the moonlight.

He's so beautiful. And handsome. And hot.

Attractive in every way a guy can be attractive.

"I guess you have a few minutes." Holden chuckles. "Oliver isn't going to go home with her tonight."

I shake my head. "Dad's here."

His eyes dart around the party.

"Upstairs. In his office. Just in case."

"In case?" Holden raises a brow. "What do you have planned, Daisy?"

"Nothing." My cheeks flush. "I'm—"

"You look sweet and innocent, but I know the truth." His smile widens. "You've got a troublemaker underneath the pretty pink dress."

My pulse races. "You think so?"

"I know so."

"I…"

"You…"

"It's my birthday." I just have to say it. It's the only way.

"It is."

"So you owe me a birthday wish."

"Do I?"

I nod. Take a deep breath. Exhale my nerves. This is no big deal. I'm flirting. Sure, Holden is three years older than I am, an adult with a job, an adult who is best friends with my brother, but, uh—

It's just flirting.

That's all.

No.

Big.

Deal.

"A birthday kiss." I swallow hard. "Just one."

"Daisy—"

"Don't say that I'm too young."

"Wasn't gonna say that."

"Oh."

His gaze shifts to the party—to Oliver—then it's back on me. "Usually, women ask for a birthday fuck."

My blush spreads to my chest.

"I guess you knew I'd say no."

"I, uh—"

He chuckles. "Is that really what you want?"

"To have sex with you?"

"No." His laugh is light. Easy. "A kiss?"

I nod.

"You could have anything. A free tattoo. A bottle of vodka. A wingman to find you a date for prom."

"Prom isn't until May."

He raises a brow.

I suck a breath through my teeth. "School hasn't even started."

"You want the best, you need to start early."

"You don't think I can find my own prom date?"

His eyes sparkle. Actually sparkle. "You're a beautiful girl. You're not going to have trouble."

My tongue slides over my lips. "You think I'm beautiful?"

"You know you're beautiful."

My stomach flutters. He's so smooth and sweet and suave and—

Oh my God. He's trying to let me down gently.

In his way.

He doesn't want to kiss me.

Because I'm a kid. Or because I'm his friend's sister. Or because I'm a certifiable mess.

No. He doesn't know that.

Oliver wouldn't.

Would he?

"Daisy?" He wraps his fingers around my wrist. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just—"

"How many have you had?"

"How many?"

He motions to his red cup.

I shake my head. "Oliver has the only bottle."

Holden chuckles. "Has he really convinced you of that?"

"No," I lie.

"Fuck. He did. I shouldn't have said anything. I'm not a narc."

"Never?"

"Never ever."

"So you won't tell him about this?"

He shakes his head of course not.

For a moment, the sounds of the party drift into the backyard. Laughter, conversation, the hum of Lorde.

The air gets charged.

Electric.

Then Holden's eyes meet mine. "Come here."

"Huh?"

"You want a birthday kiss, right?"

"Yeah."

"So come here." He pats the space next to his thigh. The space between us.

My heart thuds against my chest. "You'll do it?"

"It's your birthday. Like you said." His fingers dig into my wrist. "I can't deny a woman on her birthday."

"Oh."

His eyes meet mine. Then they travel down my body.

To my hand.

He lifts my arm. Leans down. Presses his lips to the back of my hand.

It's not the kiss I want.

Hell, it's as good as a rejection.

But it still sets me on fire.

I swear, somehow, someway, I'm going to kiss Holden Ballard properly.

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Author’s Note

For every girl who’s ever been told she’s too much.

I have a mission with most books. An idea I want to express or a concept I want to explore. Most people would call that theme. Well, most English teachers. It’s not a trait unique to my books—all art (or media if you find art too loaded a word) has a theme—but it’s something we rarely discuss in the indie romance world.

Many people see romance, label it genre fiction, assume there’s no deeper meaning. Plenty of books are written without a strong theme. Plenty of books read like someone put a bunch of romance tropes in the blender and made a trope smoothie.

Those books may have less to contemplate, but they still have a message. It’s probably whatever message is popular in the genre. In romance, that’s usually some mix of love conquers all…