The Rule Book (Rule Breakers #1)(31)

“It was the eighties, what do you expect?” Okay, so I wasn’t even a blip on my parents’ radar in that decade, but I’d heard stories from my mom. And, according to her, the movies weren’t too far from the truth. I used this opportunity to reposition myself, making sure to put myself a little farther from Brogan and out of the dreaded crack. His gaze focused on the spot I’d just moved from, and I’d give up every couch make out session from my past to know what he was thinking at this exact moment. “Plus, what kind of story would it be if they couldn’t conspire against the principal?”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you have horrible taste in movies?”

“Quite the contrary. I always picked the flicks for movie night when I was in college. People trusted me with this important decision.”

A wry smile twisted his lips, and he sat back against the couch. “Under duress? Or did you break into their house and take over their living room, too?” He bumped his knee into mine and let out a low chuckle that rumbled in my chest.

I stared down at his sweats where they’d just connected with my leg, then took a quick glance up his chest, finally ending at his strong stubbled jaw. His tongue slid over his lips and his eyes twinkled with playfulness when he looked at me. He cracked an easy smile and his dimples made a reappearance.

Hello, lady parts? Are you there? Nope, no answer, most likely due to the fact the rubble of my ovaries was scattered over a ten-mile radius. Seriously, how was this guy single?

A 180 pound wall of pure muscle sat next to me with a few shreds of clothing in the way. Was it getting hot in here? The coffee from his French press must be giving me hallucinations. Brogan Starr actually loosening up and…flirting?

I decided the best thing to do was to ignore it and keep my cool. “Ha. Ha.” I gave my best eye roll and focused my gaze back to the movie. “Just keep watching. I assure you, you’ll change your mind.”

He folded his arms, putting his tattoos on full display, although from my non-obvious peripheral ogling, I couldn’t make out any specifics, just swirls of black ink against his skin. Teen me would high-five present-day me for this moment, aside from the fact that it was my boss and we were in this weird pity-Netflix time warp.

“Wait, now they’re just toking up in school? What about the essay?”

“Loosen up, Starr. They’ll get there. They have to realize how pigheaded they’ve been toward each other first.” Because if this movie taught me one thing as a teen, it was that people were more than the front they put on for other people. Just like there was more to Brogan than his hundreds of rules and CEO title.

“That Andy dude’s father deserves to be punched in the face.” He scowled. Brogan leaned forward, his forearms resting on his legs as he watched, transfixed. Crappy movie choice, my ass. He was totally into it.

I smiled. “That he does.”

The last few minutes of the film played on the big screen, and I sighed. This movie never got old, no matter how many times I watched it.

“Isn’t that the best?” Claire had just given John her earring, and all was right in the world of the best detention ever known to mankind.

“I…have no words.” He said, still staring at the TV in what looked to be horror.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t think we can be friends anymore,” I joked.

His gaze flicked to mine, and my breath caught in my throat at the intensity of his eyes. “We aren’t friends. I’m your boss.” I couldn’t ignore the heat in his expression, the same flicker I saw the day my sweater fell victim to Betsy. I’d give anything for him to push me down on the couch and make me forget my name.

“Right. It was just an expression.” I cleared my throat and shook off thoughts of couch fornication.

He nodded. “Tonight was nice. It’s been a long time since I’ve hung out at home.”

Something about that statement jogged me out of my little bubble of bliss. This guy lived and breathed his job. Not that I didn’t work unhealthy hours, too, but this cut way too close to home. It was bad enough I was infatuated with him, but I saw firsthand what happened with relationships with workaholics. Secret families weren’t a high risk with Brogan, but he was kind of married to his job. The experience with my dad was enough to give me pause. But I was getting way ahead of myself, because this wasn’t heading that direction. Not that I wouldn’t enjoy doing a personal inventory of every muscle on his body.

“Anytime.” I backtracked. “I mean…” I sighed. I really needed to work on thinking before I spoke in front of him. “Oh, you know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “I do.”

“I should be going. Thanks for listening. I feel a lot better.” Even though the stress of everything going on with my mom would likely flood back as soon as I got back to my apartment, it was nice to have a short reprieve.

Just as I stood, he cleared his throat and held up a hand. “I’ll walk you out.” He pushed up from the couch, and the muscles in his biceps bunched together in the most delicious of ways. It took a moment of channeled concentration to fight back the urge to violate at least ten rules in his damn employee manual.

He ushered me to the elevator, locking Bruce in the apartment. I turned to face him after I hit the down button. Just inches apart from him, I had to crane my neck to look at his face. If I took one step forward, our bodies would press flush against each other, and my hands would be forced to splay against his chest. Something that I’d like. A lot.