The Rule Breaker - Crystal Kaswell Page 0,88

your… Fuck, I guess I know why you're so pissed. Because I want to slap you right now. What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you know what it would do to her? If she lost her friendship with Luna."

"I know," I say.

"Do you?" He shakes his head. "Guess I'm the same as you. A fucking hypocrite. But… stop it. If it's something real, if it's serious, if you love her… okay. But tell Daisy. Before someone else does." His eyes flit to the backyard. It's too dark to make out details. But Luna's silver hair catches the light. Daisy must be next to her. "And if it's not serious… well, fuck you, for playing with her feelings."

"Your Luna's defender now?"

"Saying what your sister would."

I swallow hard.

"She deserves better. You know that, Oliver. You've been around her for a long time."

"I'm not playing with her feelings."

"You love her?"

"It's none of your business," I say.

He shakes his head exactly. "You think I like being this guy?"

"It's not like that."

"Do you love her?"

I do. It hits me all at once. A truth I can't deny.

And another one.

One just as obvious and a million times worse.

He must notice the revelation on my face. Because he softens. "Fuck. I don't like being an asshole."

"You don't?"

"Not this kind of asshole. Just… figure it out, okay. And try not to hurt her. Please. For her sake. And Daisy's."

"Yeah."

Is it possible? To do this without hurting her?

No.

But in the long run…

This is for the best in the long run.

Chapter Forty-Four

Luna

Between the post-orgasm glow and drinks with my best friend, I ease into the party. I don't even mind when Holden pulls her away with a promise to satisfy then send her home at a reasonable hour.

Or when Patrick and Dare make it their personal mission to tease me until they earn Oliver's attention.

I can see why they're friends with Holden. They're troublemakers, through and through. And they have a rapport. Like the one Holden and Oliver have.

Or had. I'm not sure anymore.

Okay, so, maybe I flirt with Patrick. Maybe I want to see if we can make Oliver jealous. Maybe I'm too low on inhibitions to care that it's immature and silly.

It's too hard, keeping this to myself. I want to tell the entire world.

Oliver Flynn is… maybe not my boyfriend. But something.

Handsome, difficult, caring, protective, hot as hell.

Sure enough, Patrick's flirting earns his attention. The second the troublemaking tattoo artist pulls me into his lap, Oliver appears outside.

Like he really did materialize from the ether.

Even in the costume (really just an orange hoodie and jeans now that he took off his wig), he looks stern.

Upset.

About this? Or something else.

Patrick turns to Oliver and raises a brow.

Oliver shoots him a get lost look. "I'm gonna go."

"Now?" I ask.

His eyes flit from me to Patrick. Then back to me. "Yeah. There's too much shit going on."

With Holden and Daisy?

With us?

With the party atmosphere?

Everyone is drinking and cavorting and he's sober. Fuck. I should be holding his hand. Not out here, trying to make him jealous.

"I'll go with you." I rise to my feet. "I'm pretty beat."

"Uh-huh." Dare shakes his head yeah-right. "This might be the worst come-on I've ever seen, but, somehow, it's working." He turns to Patrick. "Or maybe she wants to get away from you that bad."

"Maybe she wants to get away from you that bad," Dare returns.

"Maybe it's 'cause you didn't offer to double-team her." Oliver rolls his eyes. "Get some new material."

"I'll go too," I say it again.

He shakes his head don't. "Stay. I'll see you—"

"I don't want to stay."

"You should." His expression hardens. "That's for the best."

He moves away from the guys. Toward the corner.

I follow him into the side yard. "Ollie…"

"Luna, don't."

"Don't what?" I reach for him. Get his hoodie. "I'm sorry about Patrick. He was flirting. I knew it would annoy you, but—"

"It's not Patrick."

"Then what?" I tug at his hoodie.

"I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?"

His shoulders fall. "I can't."

"You can't?" My fingers close around his wrist. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Luna, don't."

"Don't what? Call you an asshole? Tell you to fuck off? Ask where you get the nerve? You can't? Uh-uh. You can't leave me with such a weak explanation. We talked about this. We agreed. We knew it was fucked up and that we'd have to tell her eventually and we still agreed—"

"I'm sorry."

"No." I hold on to him as tightly as I can. "You don't leave with I'm sorry, I can't. You do better."

He says nothing.

"Oliver. At least look me