Breaking The Rules

“Right back at you. When are you coming home?”

I study the mountains looming on the horizon. “I don’t know. I thought we’d be heading back later this week, but some shit’s come up.”

“Shit?”

“Shit.”

“Got it.” That’s Isaiah. He doesn’t need to know details to sympathize.

“Did you put the money down on the apartment?” I made a promise to Isaiah that I wouldn’t leave him behind in foster care. Even though the state would pay for me to live in the dorms, there’s no way I can leave my non-blood brother behind, so we decided to move out together, even though he’ll only be a senior in high school this fall.

“We move in September first.”

I exhale. One less situation to worry about.

“I got a favor to ask,” says Isaiah.

“Shoot.”

“If you’re going to be gone for another few weeks...” Isaiah’s not a guy who hesitates, nor is he the kind that asks for favors. He’d rather break off his arm and sell it than ask for help. “I’d like to bring Beth out. A guy owes me, and I can get one-way bus tickets cheap. Watching Beth with her mom is like watching a ticking time bomb without a pair of pliers to clip the wires.”

“Is Beth going to be on board with this?” Beth doesn’t like being away from her mom.

“She owes me, and she knows it, but it doesn’t mean she won’t bitch.” A long pause. “The shit Beth’s mom’s into...I need to get Beth out of town for a few days. Change her perspective. Then maybe she’ll stop going over to her mom’s so much.”

That would take a damn miracle. Regardless of that I say, “Come on out.”

I should discuss it with Echo first—hell, I still need to talk to her about my mother’s family. Beth and Echo can be oil and water. It’s tough for Beth to trust people, and she’s given Echo a rough time from the get-go. I’m sure Echo’s going to be thrilled to hear we’ll have guests, but the decision needs to be made and made now.

If Echo’s anything, she’s understanding. We’ll enjoy Colorado Springs then get to Denver. I’ll take her out to a nice dinner after the showing then tell her everything. She’s got too much on her plate at the moment to deal with my baggage.

“We’ll be in Colorado Springs for the next two days. Denver for a night after that.” And screw me. “Maybe Vail will be on the list.”

“I’ve gotta go. Beth’s walking out.”

Isaiah hangs up, and a tug to return home grows. I’ve got Isaiah, Beth and my brothers waiting for me. Plus, Echo will be at my side. I’m not alone—I’m not.

Echo’s red curls bounce as she drags the cooler up the path. With her eyes fixed on the car, she lifts the cooler, tosses it into the backseat, slams the back door shut then slides into the front passenger seat and yanks that door shut with pissed-off pizzazz.

We’ve got a couple of hours in the car together, and my girl has a hell of a temper. This should be an interesting ride.

Echo (#ulink_7befeb74-5c02-5429-b881-6e8c787add51)

Colorado Springs is, according to the guy who tried initiating small talk a few seconds ago outside the hotel, unseasonably hot. Hot enough that I’m shocked that people don’t melt the moment they step into the sunlight. The sweater doesn’t help.

I push off the hood of my Honda Civic, twist my hair off my neck and duck into the shadow of a towering fir tree. The stark contrast between Alamosa and Colorado Springs is beyond amazing: desert and flat to green with mountains rising in the distance. The urge to paint and draw overwhelms me as the sights and colors here are a feast for my artistic palate.

I could have joined Noah in the hotel lobby, but then he’d believe he was winning, and he’s so not. We haven’t talked since the café, and he’s dead wrong if he thinks I’m caving. I don’t care how many wicked smiles he flashes in my direction or how many times he “mistakenly” brushes his hand against my cheek or thigh. He can make my head spin and my blood run hot, but I’m strong enough to resist his every temptation.

I haven’t gone this long without kissing Noah since this spring when we broke up for a couple of weeks. I shiver despite the heat. That was one of the darkest periods of my life and, unfortunately, I’m well versed in dark.

Noah exits the lobby, and I’m hypnotized by his confident strut. Even in the heat, he wears jeans and a black T-shirt and never breaks a sweat. Not impervious to hot weather, I blow a couple of curls away from my face.

“You wouldn’t be so hot if you took off your sweater,” he says.

My fingers clutch the ends of the material.

Noah rests a hand on my hip and chuckles when I pull away. “You’re going to have to talk to me sometime.”

I will not crumble. He started this fight, not me. Going around and bullying guys because they called me a name...it’s not okay, especially when it attracts attention to me and leads people to wonder if what they said is true.

He holds up one key card and with a slip of his fingers reveals two. I extend my palm and waggle my fingers for my key, but Noah only grins as he lowers his hand and walks past. Arrogant, conceited, smoking, full of himself...

Without looking back, Noah strolls into the side entrance. I’ve got two options: liquefy from the heat and dissolve into the pavement or follow Noah. I actually weigh the choices. I really, really don’t like admitting he has the upper hand because Noah is a sore winner.

A bead of sweat drips from my scalp and onto my neck. We do sleep in the same bed, and I could smother Noah with a pillow later tonight or toss his pants and boxers onto the front lawn of the hotel. Except the last one would make him smile and me blush.

With an exaggerated sigh, I yank open the door and spot Noah down the hall sliding the key card into a slot. The cool hotel hallway reeks of chlorine, and the farther I walk in the direction of our room, the sound of splashing and children shouting in delight grows.

Noah enters the room and disappears. My agitation reaches a new level as tension builds between my muscles. Is this how he’s going to be? Ignoring me? Not even waiting? My skin tightens until I feel paper-thin and ready to rip.

My hand stings when it pounds into the cracked open door, and a cold blast hits me as the air conditioner roars to life. “Do you seriously think you have the right to treat me this way after what you did this morning?”

All the air rushes out of my body. Roses cover the full-size bed closest to the door. The long-stemmed kind. Noah bought me flowers...for the first time...ever. Despite the anger and hurt from earlier, every romantic notion inside me squeals with excitement.

“I’m not sorry for defending you.” Noah leans against the wall next to the bed with his arms crossed over his chest. “But I am sorry for hurting you, so talk to me, Echo. Or yell. Anything but the silence.”

The door clicks shut behind me, and I become hyperaware. I’m alone with Noah. It’s not the first time, but whenever we enter a room with a bed, in complete isolation, the same strange sensation hums along my body, like a tuning fork being struck.

Speechless, I ease over to the bed and rub the silky petals between my fingers.

This isn’t a swanky room. In fact, it’s modest with two beds that share the same thin multicolored comforter. A two-hundred-pound television sits on a dresser, and the corner contains a particle-board table and chairs.

The air from the conditioner has a musty, this-room-is-older-than-me scent. Heck, this hotel could be older than my dad. But as I stare at the roses, it’s as if the bareness of the room fades, and I’m the princess entering her castle. Noah always has the ability to turn reality into fantasy.

I pick up one of the long stems, and the smooth petals caress my lips as I bring it to my nose. Noah’s kisses always start off soft and gentle. If I face him, would Noah notice the vein pulsing wildly in my neck? If so, he’d know I was imagining him and his kisses and right now, I’m not sure I want to be kissed.

The fragrance of the rose isn’t overwhelming. It’s mild and sweet and perfect, and it must have driven Noah crazy to buy them.

“Come on, baby, you’re killing me here.”

“This had to be expensive.”

I risk a glance at him and catch his eyes before he lowers them. “You’re worth it.”

Noah finds spending money difficult, and I try my best to understand. Until this summer, I never thought about purchasing my morning latte. Then I noticed Noah avoiding breakfast or skipping lunch or dinner. He’s fended for himself for so long that he’s constantly scared of losing what he’s earned, and his pride won’t allow me to pay for his meals. I practically had to arm wrestle him into letting me pay halves on the hotel rooms, which is why we camp, often, at my suggestion.

I lay the rose back on the bed. “I love you.”