Three Rules with My Best Friend's Brother

The bed was shaking.

Or maybe it was the entire wall. Either way, the muffled thuds vibrating through the guest room drywall were loud enough to wake the dead or worse, keep me wide awake at two in the morning.

I buried my face in the guest pillow, letting out a sharp, frustrated hiss into the fabric. Unbelievable. The ink wasn’t even dry on my temporary-stay agreement, and RavenBrook’s reigning hockey captain was already christening the master wing with a campus groupie.

I jammed my hands over my ears, glaring up at the dark ceiling. I didn’t care. I didn't care at all. It just annoyed me, that was all. Annoyed me that he brought random girls home like a rotating carousel, and annoyed me that the bastard’s stamina was apparently as obnoxious as his personality.

The day before...

Water was supposed to be a source of life, but at one in the morning, my apartment decided to act like an executioner.

My living room floor was a swamp, my couch was soaked, and my bed was ruined. The only thing I managed to save before my phone died was my heavy backpack stuffed with college textbooks. Freezing, soaked, and desperate, I had only one option: Chloe.

When I called her earlier in panic, she told me she was staying at her new guy Noah’s place, but added quickly, “My parents are out of town, the house is wide open. Repairs on your apartment will take a while, so just crash in the guest room. My twin brother Drake should be asleep—though honestly, good luck if you two cross paths. Just try not to murder each other, babe, for my piece of mind.”

Twenty minutes later, I stood on the porch of the Hayes family house, pressing my thumb hard against the doorbell.

The mahogany door swung open and Drake Hayes filled the frame.

I froze, my breath completely stalling in my lungs. He wore low-slung grey sweatpants and nothing else, standing well over six feet two inches tall. He was aggressively, unfairly attractive. Piercing blue eyes glared down at me, framed by messy dark hair falling over his forehead. His broad chest was a masterpiece of hard muscle, carved six-pack abs, and deep V-lines leading down to the waistband of his pants.

For three seconds, I completely forgot how to speak. I just stood there, staring like an idiot at a man who looked like he had been chiseled out of marble just to torment me.

Drake’s gaze dropped slowly down my drenched form. My thin cotton t-shirt was plastered to my skin, completely transparent under the porch light. A glint flashed in his blue eyes, instantly replaced by a scowl.

"What the f*ck are you doing here, Rosa?" he barked, his voice a low, rough rumble.

"My apartment flooded," I snapped back, recovering my voice and crossing my arms tightly over my chest, trying to hide what the soaked cotton revealed.

"Chloe said I could stay in the guest room until it's fixed."

Drake rolled his eyes, resting a hand on his narrow hip. "Chloe isn't here. And I have someone over."

"I don't care who you have over," I pushed past him, marching straight into the foyer before he could stop me. "Chloe said the house is open. Me being here doesn't change whatever you're doing with your little guest."

Drake slammed the front door shut, the wood rattling in its frame. He towered over me, closing the distance until I had to tilt my head all the way back to glare at him. Up close, he smelled like expensive cedar, clean skin, and pure arrogance.

“How long are you staying?” he asked.

“Probably a month.” I tightened my grip on my backpack. “The apartment is badly damaged.”

“What, a month? You think you're just going to move in here for a month?" he mocked, an edge to his tone.

“ Yes, Chloe agreed. And your parents would too!”

Drake stares at me for a while, knowing so well Mr and Mrs Hayes would have agreed right away I stay for months if I needed to.

"Fine. But you follow my rules, Rosa. One: stay out of my master wing. Two: don't touch me and three…” he trailed off.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Please. Touching you is literally at the absolute bottom of my bucket list."

Drake’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked. "I f*ckng hope so." He turned on his heel and stalked away toward the master wing, leaving me standing alone in the hallway.

Ten minutes later, after changing into pajamas in the guest room, the muffled sound of a headboard banging against the wall echoed down the hall.

I pulled the blanket over my head, muttering curses under my breath.

One month.

I was going to lose my f*cking mind.