RULES WE BREAK
1069 Words
Tessa woke up the next morning with two problems:
Her deadline: eleven days left.
Rowan Blake’s stupidly perfect smile replaying in her head like a song she couldn’t turn off.
She wasn’t supposed to think about him.
She wasn’t supposed to feel anything.
This was supposed to be strategic, efficient, controlled.
But last night had been… different.
Jamie shoved open her bedroom door without knocking, holding two coffees and an expression sharp enough to cut glass.
“Wake up, lover girl.”
“I’m not—”
“You are,” he said, handing her the stronger coffee. “Okay, number one: Did you follow the rules last night?”
She sipped. “…Mostly.”
“Tessa.”
She sighed. “The bump wasn’t on purpose.”
“And the way he held you? The way you let him guide your hips with the darts? Girl, that was not rule-compliant.”
She threw a pillow at him. He dodged easily.
Jamie plopped onto the bed. “Look, he’s perfect. Tall, handsome, emotionally present—he even apologized for standing there too still, which is insane and adorable.”
“It doesn’t matter if he’s perfect,” she muttered. “I have eleven days to make someone fall in love with me. I don’t have time for distractions.”
Jamie smirked. “Sweetheart… he is the distraction.”
Before she could argue, her phone buzzed.
A message.
Unknown number:
Had fun last night. Coffee? —Rowan
Her stomach flipped.
Rule One: Do not see someone two days in a row.
She couldn’t break that rule. It was the golden one. The foundation.
She stared at the screen.
Jamie raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to leave that man on read? Tessa. Be serious.”
“It’s my rule.”
“Then this is your first test.” He folded his arms. “Do you stick to your twelve rules? Or follow the man who makes you blush like a teenager?”
She glared. “I don’t blush.”
“You turned the color of Rudolph’s ass.”
“Jamie.”
“Text him back. Rule One is stupid anyway.”
“It is not stupid,” she snapped. “Rule One is about pacing. Emotional pacing. Mystery. Not crowding.”
“Fine,” Jamie sighed, “then politely decline and go about your day without thinking about Rowan.”
She stared at the message again.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
She typed:
I can’t today.
She hovered over “send.”
And deleted it.
Jamie gasped dramatically. “She hesitates! The prophecy foretold this moment!”
“Shut up.”
She typed again. Slower.
Coffee sounds nice.
Her thumb moved.
She sent it.
She broke Rule One.
She broke it in less than twelve hours.
Two Hours Later — A Christmas Tree Maze
She didn’t know why she said yes.
She didn’t know why she felt nervous.
She didn’t know why her heartbeat kicked up the moment she saw Rowan waiting for her near the entrance, hands in his pockets, smile warm and easy.
“You came,” he said, like he genuinely hadn’t expected her to.
“You asked,” she replied, tucking her hands into her coat. It was safer that way.
They walked through the rows of Christmas trees, the air sharp and sweet with pine. Rowan asked about her favorite holiday traditions. She lied smoothly, avoiding anything related to writing.
She hated lying.
But what choice did she have?
“So what do you do?” Rowan asked.
“I’m… a life coach,” she said quickly.
He nodded. “Makes sense. You seem like someone who helps people breathe.”
She blinked at that. No one had ever described her like that.
“And you?” she asked.
“I restore old cars,” he said. “Mostly as a hobby. Part-time work. Full-time passion.”
He grinned, and the world warmed a little.
They reached the middle of the maze where an axe-throwing station was set up. He raised an eyebrow.
“Ever tried it?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Perfect.” He handed her an axe. “First time for everything.”
She tossed. She missed. Badly.
Rowan laughed — but not at her. More like he enjoyed watching her try.
“Here,” he said, stepping behind her.
His hands wrapped gently around her arms.
His chest pressed lightly against her back.
His breath brushed her cheek.
She forgot her own name for a second.
“Like this,” he murmured, guiding her stance.
She swallowed hard. “Okay.”
She threw. She hit the target. Barely, but she hit it.
She turned to him, excited. “Did you see—”
He was already looking at her.
Not at the target.
At her.
Like she was something he hadn’t expected to find today.
The world slowed.
Her pulse quickened.
This wasn’t supposed to feel real.
This wasn’t supposed to feel like anything.
She stepped back fast. “We should keep moving.”
Rowan didn’t push. He simply nodded, hands sliding back into his pockets.
But she saw the moment.
Felt it.
Carried it.
All the way to the parking lot.
In His Car
Rowan unlocked the door for her. “Dinner later?”
Panic shot through her.
Rule Two: Never have a home date before the third outing.
Rule Four: Do not escalate too fast.
Rule Seven: Keep personal details locked until trust is earned.
Her rules were unraveling around him like loose threads.
“I can’t tonight,” she lied. “Work.”
He nodded, not disappointed — just patient. Too patient.
“Tomorrow, then?”
She shouldn’t.
She knew she shouldn’t.
But she said, “Maybe.”
He gave her that warm, soft smile again.
“Tessa?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m really glad I bumped into you.”
Her breath caught.
She got out of the car before she did something stupid—like touch his face or ask him to kiss her.
Back Home
Jamie was waiting at the door.
“Well?” he demanded.
Tessa dropped onto the couch and covered her face with both hands.
“Jamie,” she groaned, “I’m going to fail this experiment.”
Jamie sat beside her, eyes shining with chaotic-best-friend glee.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered dramatically.
“You’re not failing. You’re falling.”
- Writer
