All Chapters of Rule Number 1: Kissing Your Stepbrother Again Will Ruin You: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Zephyr Pain exploded directly between my legs. I choked on a breath, my eyes snapping open in the dark as my entire body recoiled. My jaw clenched so hard a sharp ache shot up into my temples. Someone had just kicked me square in the crotch. What the actual fuck. For one disoriented second, I stared blankly at the shadows on the ceiling, waiting for the agony to subside into a dull throb. The air smelled of clean cotton, lemon disinfectant, and a faint undercurrent of lavender. This wasn't my room. I slowly turned my head, my gaze tracking the chaotic little demon currently occupying ninety percent of the mattress. For a girl who barely scraped five-foot-five, she managed to sleep like a starfish on adderall. I had no idea how she’d pulled it off, but I had been relegated to a tiny, six-inch strip of real estate at the very edge of the bed. She wasn't even sleeping normally. One of her bare legs was thrown carelessly over mine—the exact same leg that had just nearly ended my

ElowenThe line went dead, leaving me alone with the faint hiss of the bathroom exhaust fan and the cooling air of the apartment. I peeled the damp towel from my hair, letting my damp blonde waves fall over my shoulders in heavy, wet clumps. Stepping out of the master bathroom, I walked into my bedroom, the scent of fresh lemon disinfectant still lingering in the air like a proud monument to my midnight cleaning spree. When I got to my drawers, I smiled, still riding the wave of petty triumph from the night before. I couldn't help the small, vindictive smile that tugged at the corners of my lips as I approached my wooden dresser. The image of Zephyr trapped outside his own door, completely helpless because his precious silver keys was buried deep beneath my undies, was a beautiful balm for my frayed nerves. I reminded myself right then and there that I needed to turn the deadbolt on my own bedroom door the second I left for classes today. If I didn't, there was absolutely nothing

Elowen Once Zephyr decided to be a tyrant, there was no reasoning with him. The rest of the morning was a masterclass in psychological discomfort. I had to make an emergency detour to Frezzies—an undies shop—on my way to campus, sprinting through the bright red aisles in a state of high anxiety just to buy a cheap, scratchy multipack of nylon panties. Changing in a cramped, fluorescent-lit university bathroom stall did absolutely nothing to improve my mood. By the time my afternoon classes let out, I was an absolute wreck. The combined trauma of my missing boutique wardrobe and the bizarre encounter with Derrick—who had actually followed through on Isa's warning and tracked me down outside the philosophy hall to ask me out—had left me in desperate need of a total emotional reset. When I finally pushed open the heavy front door of the apartment later that afternoon, my shoulders slumped with relief. The place was quiet. I dropped my backpack onto the entryway bench and marched st

Elowen "I think I’m just going to stay in tonight." Ivy let out a disappointed sigh but gave me an understanding nod. "Alright, but if you change your mind, the offer stands." Before I could reply, the heavy wooden doors at the front of the lecture hall swung open, and the sharp, rhythmic click of heels echoed against the linoleum. Dr. Hale marched into the room, her expression as stern and unyielding as the heavy leather briefcase she gripped in her right hand. She was the kind of professor who commanded absolute authority the second she crossed the threshold, her gaze sweeping over the tiered rows like an eagle scanning a field. She walked straight to the podium, dropping the briefcase with a loud, echoing thud that instantly silenced the remaining chatter in the room. "Good morning, class," Dr. Hale announced, her voice crisp and entirely devoid of warmth. She unclasped the briefcase, pulling out a thick, intimidating stack of papers bound by a heavy rubber band. "A

Elowen My mind began to spin with a dozen furious questions. What was he even doing here? Zephyr, from what I heard, was supposed to be a final-year student, finishing up his seniors tracks. Didn't the seniors have their own dedicated block buildings, or did their schedules randomly clash with freshers? Was forcing me to share a kitchen, a living room, and a hallway with his lawless existence not enough forced proximity for the universe? Did he really have to track me down into the one square foot of independence I had left? He can't drive me crazy. No, I won't let him. Shit! And then, another realization hit me like a cold wave. I had seen Cedric once too in this same exact class of Dr. Hale. I glanced toward the front rows, searching for the broad shoulders of the hockey player who had just frozen me out on the ice rink. A dark, twisted thought crept into my mind. Had they both somehow failed Dr. Hale’s notoriously brutal course last term? Did the golden boy athlete