Breaking the Rules (Pushing the Limits, #1.5)(104)

“Echo feels bad she’s not driving back so let her do this,” I tell Isaiah. Because I’m eating my damn pride by letting her pay for my bus ticket, too. It’s a partnership, she told me, and Echo’s right. Some days she’ll be on an upswing, some days she’ll be on the down. This is her upswing.

“I’ll pay her back,” says Isaiah.

“I know.” So will I. With a big-ass house on the tallest mountain and all the damn little dogs she desires. But they’re still not sleeping on my bed. “And Echo knows. It’s all good, bro.”

When Isaiah cracks his neck to the right, I try again. “We’re family, Isaiah. You, me, Beth and Echo. I know we’ve all had shit handed to us, but we have something now. I’ve got your backs and you’ve got mine, which means every now and then you’ve got to let us help you out, too. You got it?”

Beth dips her head so that her hair hides her face, a sign the words I said breached that damn wall she keeps guarded, and Isaiah won’t meet my eyes. Emotion...someone giving a shit...we’re not used to it and when anyone offers any semblance of affection, none of us, including Echo, have a clue what to do with it.

But those days are over. Long gone. It’s time the four of us start writing our own stories...our own destinies. I raise my beer in the air. “To family.”

Beth’s head jerks up. “Are you f*cking kidding me? Are we seriously doing this?”

“Are you going to leave me hanging?”

She laughs, and her beer joins mine. “You’re a crazy son of a bitch.”

We both look to Isaiah. He scrubs his knuckles against his jaw then raises his bottle to ours and repeats, “To family.”

With a clink, each one of us swallows from the long neck then scrambles for another topic, but I don’t care. I’ve finally found what I’ve been searching for...a family.





Noah

Echo wears blue. Royal blue, and I love how it makes her green eyes shine. The dress is simple, made of smooth fabric, and is cut in ways that highlights her curves. She’s drop-dead gorgeous, but she’s nervous as hell.

We’re inside the largest gallery known to man with towering walls, a black ceiling and the best lighting available. In a few minutes, the doors will open, and Echo has been reduced to wringing her hands.

“Mrs. Collins told me to breathe,” Echo says.

“Then I suggest trying it. Air in. Then air out. I hear it helps.” I’m not kidding.

Evil glare from my girl.

“Echo?” A woman in a black dress approaches us. “Do you have a few minutes? I’d like to ask your opinion on the lighting on your painting.”

Echo agrees, and when she looks at me I gesture to the woman who has already left. “I’ll stay here. You can find me when you’re ready.”

She flashes that glorious smile. “Thanks.”

Damn, Echo’s sexy as hell when she walks—especially in heels. When she rounds the corner, I push off the wall and pretend to understand the painting with red-and-black marks slashed across the canvas. Some things I just don’t get.

“But you said there was room!” A girl’s voice grabs my attention and farther down the hallway Hunter and a dark-haired girl I’ve seen from his studio are deep in conversation. “You said last month that I could extend past the summer session for the year.”

I should move so I won’t be accused of eavesdropping, but I told Echo I’d stay put. Plus, they’re the ones talking loud enough for people in China to hear.

“Meredith,” Hunter starts. “There was room. An artist I had seen potential in earlier in the year decided along with me that it was best that we didn’t work together.”

“So they came back?” Her voice breaks.

“No, they didn’t.” Hunter crosses his arms over his chest, and the poor girl crumples against the wall.

“You’re giving my spot to Echo.” The girl sways on her feet like the statement was a blow to the head.

“Next year, Meredith. I promise you’ll have a spot for the one-year program next year.”

Hunter turns away from Meredith, and my stomach drops. Fuck. This is the girl that Echo had told me asked her to lunch. The girl that Echo felt could have been her friend. There’s no way Echo will be okay with this, and there’s no way gossip like this won’t eventually be burning her ears.

“Noah?” Echo rounds the corner on her way back to me, and her eyes are wide with concern. “Did I hear that correctly?”

The urge is to tell her no. To keep her protected. To keep her happy. But I tried keeping something once from Echo in the name of not hurting her, and it almost destroyed us.

“Echo,” Hunter calls. “Are you ready?”

She glances at him then at me. “I didn’t hear it all, but I think you did. I need you to tell me what happened.”

“I will. I promise.”





Echo

The three people studying my painting, gesturing at my painting, talking in front of my painting are three of the biggest gallery owners in the world. I’m going to puke everywhere then die.

Near the wall opposite them, Noah and I watch. My foot taps continually against the floor, and the clicking sound from my high-heeled shoe is probably driving Noah to the brink of insanity.