All Chapters of Rule Number 1: Kissing Your Stepbrother Again Will Ruin You: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

52 Chapters

31. Emulating The Scholarship Girl

Elowen "She smashed it?" a guy in the row ahead murmured, twisting around to look at me. "Wait, did someone actually pass?" a girl two desks down whispered, her eyes wide with disbelief. "I heard she got an A," another voice chimed in from behind. Within seconds, a low, buzzing drone of whispers filled the air, dozens of eyes shifting away from their own failing papers to lock squarely onto my burning face. I felt completely stripped bare beneath the sudden, unwanted spotlight, the intense scrutiny making my skin itch with discomfort. Oh, please, no. I hated being the center of attention, and having a room full of competitive, stressed-out students staring at me like I was a freak of nature was my absolute worst nightmare. "Oh my god, I am so, so sorry," Ivy whispered frantically, her face turning pale as she quickly shoved the paper back onto my desk. "I didn't mean to shout it like that." I shook my head, trying to assure her or myself. "It's fine," I lied through

32. The Tutoring Bargain 1

Zephyr I failed. I fucking failed. I stared down at the crinkled piece of paper in my hands, my teeth grinding together so hard my jaw felt like it was going to snap. A big, fat, blood-red "F" was stamped right on the page, practically mocking me. This was complete and utter bullshit. Before they moved me to this new academic sector in Belmont, the other lecturer used to hand me "As" like they were fucking candy. I never had to try. I never had to look at a textbook. But now? Now the person handling this godforsaken class was Dr. Hale, a woman who clearly got off on ruining students' lives. Normally, I don't give a single shit about my GPA. Even if my grades slip a little, it doesn't matter. The universe usually works in my favor. Girls still flock around me in absolute droves, whispering and twirling their hair the second I walk into a room. And let's get one thing straight—I’m not actually some dumb jock. I have a brain. I just choose not to use it on pointless academic ga

33. Tutoring Bargain 2

Zephyr "Whoa, chill the fuck out, Blondie," I muttered, holding my hands up in a mock surrender. "What happened just now was absolutely not my fault. I was literally saving your damn life. If I hadn't grabbed you, you would’ve gone flying backward down the concrete stairs and met your maker before the midterm grades were even finalized." I leaned back slightly, my smirk returning despite the lingering heat in my jeans. "Besides, you should be thanking me. Your dad—my dear stepdad—explicitly told me to look out for his precious little daughter. I’m just fulfilling my civic duty as the protective older brother." Before the last word could fully leave my mouth, Elowen’s hand shot out. Her small, soft palm slammed directly over my lips, effectively cutting off my sentence. I blinked in genuine surprise. I didn't move an inch as she aggressively stepped into my personal space, her face coming to a stop barely a breath away from mine. I could see the tiny flecks of emerald green in h

34. Tutoring Bargain 3

Zephyr "Sorry?" She turned away from me, bending down to begin picking up the heavy textbooks that had fallen to the floor during her near-death experience down the aisle stairs. As she gathered the loose papers, her test script—the pristine "A+"—slipped out from between the pages of a heavy literature volume textbook and fluttered onto the linoleum. She bent down to grab it, but my hockey reflexes were faster. I swiped the paper off the floor before her fingers could even touch the edge. "Hey! Give that back!" she snapped. I ignored her, pulling the paper closer to my face as my eyes rapidly scanned the dense, meticulously written answers she had scrawled across the pages. My brow furrowed, a string of quiet curses flying through my mind. What the actual fuck is this? I said internally, my chest tightening as I read her brilliant, incredibly complex analysis of the musical notes. If this is the exact standard Hale was looking for in that test... I am completely, utterly

35. Meet My Hockey Brothers

Zephyr The bass was hitting so hard it felt like a physical punch to the chest the second I unlocked the front door. My roommates were completely, utterly piss-drunk by the time I finally dragged my exhausted ass into the living room. The place was an absolute war zone. The mahogany coffee table—which we had explicitly agreed was supposed to be kept clean—was completely overflowing with empty, crushed beer cans, sticky red plastic cups, and a nearly empty handle of Jack Daniel's. I knew for a definitive fact that the whiskey belonged to Damien, mostly because he loudly subscribed to the philosophy that beer was strictly for pussies. His exact words, not mine. I stood in the entryway for a second, just taking in the sheer, chaotic mess. Ever since the beginning of the semester, I had been split between two entirely different worlds. I had this apartment with the boys, our official hockey sanctuary, but I had spent practically every single night staying at the other apart

36. Slowly Loosing My Shit

Zephyr I grabbed two more cans of beer from the counter on my way toward the stairs, though honestly, I don't even drink that much. During the season, I keep it strictly limited. Coach gave us this week off to study for midterms, and we still have two days of freedom left before the grind starts back up. My teammates, those lucky bastards down on the couch, seem to have absolutely no problem downing twelve beers and playing like absolute champions the next day. Me? Even a tiny buzz gives me a rip-roaring headache the morning after, and then I skate like a fucking toddler wearing his first pair of Bauers. Once we’re back to our six-days-a-week practice schedule, my alcohol consumption drops down to a strict one-to-five limit anyway. One drink on practice nights, five after a game. No exceptions. But tonight, I planned on taking full advantage of the time I had left. Sometimes, though, I don't drink at all. Sitting there looking at the condensation on the aluminum, the b

37. There Must Be A Glitch In My Fucking Brain

Zephyr The silence in the room stretched out, heavy and suffocating, before I forcefully slammed the brakes on my own thoughts. Obsessed? No. No fucking way. I rejected the word the exact millisecond it tried to take root in my mind. Why the hell would I even say or think something that completely insane? It was a glitch in my brain, nothing more. A byproduct of exhaustion and the sheer annoyance of having my entire life upended. I was supposed to hate Elowen. I did hate her. She had invaded my family's life, showing up out of nowhere with that police officer father of hers—the same hypocritical man I had caught sneaking around back once, smoking a cheap, pungent cigarette like some low-rent criminal instead of a guardian of the law. They were intruders, parasitic additions to a structure I had spent years trying to navigate, and the idea that she was somehow clawing her way into my head was a joke. An absolute, infuriating joke. "Zephyr?" Sable’s voice broke

38. A No-Strings-Attached Sex-Fest

Zephyr "Uh..." I cleared my throat, struggling to recall what she had said last.. Something like I. Miss. You. Right. I miss you.. Wait, what? I turned to her, clearing my throat again, and now struggling to find words. Any sequence of them that didn't consist of I, miss, you, and too. I shifted slightly, creating an intentional inch of distance between our bodies. "I've been incredibly busy, you know? The term is starting and trust me, it have been absolutely brutal." "Obviously," Sable replied, a distinct edge creeping into her tone now. She lifted her head from my chest, her brown eyes narrowing in the dim light. "We go to the exact same college, Zephyr. I know final year can be overwhelming. Did you miss me or not?" Fuck me sideways. What the hell was I supposed to say to that? I wasn't going to outright lie to her face, because that would only lead her on and create an even bigger disaster down the road. But at the same time, I couldn't be a total dick about it

38. The Ice King's Crown

Elowen "Wait, back the actual fuck up," Ivy said, her eyes nearly popping out of her skull as she slammed a fresh stack of cardboard pizza boxes down onto the stainless steel prep table. "Are you seriously telling me you didn't know? Like, at all? You’ve been attending this university for a whole week and you had absolutely no clue that Zephyr is the literal Ice King of Belmont University?" I blinked, holding a plastic squirt bottle of marinara sauce suspended in mid-air above a raw dough circle. "The Ice King? Ivy, what the hell are you even talking about? He’s just... a guy. An arrogant, infuriating jerk who happens to have a permanently sour attitude." "A guy? Elowen, he isn't just a guy," Ivy corrected, throwing her hands up in utter disbelief. She leaned across the counter of Slice & Dice Pizza, the local shop right down the street from the campus gates. "I swear to God, you live under a literal rock. He is the captain of the hockey team, the absolute golden boy of Belmont

40. A Crush On Him? Never!!!

Elowen Cedric was wearing a dark, oversized denim jacket that made his broad shoulders look even more imposing, his dark hair slightly windswept from the autumn air. He kept his eyes lowered, adjusting his collar as he stepped up toward the secondary counter to the side of the register where the pick-up orders were placed. Ivy’s gaze immediately darted from me to Cedric, her eyes tracking the sudden, absolute paralysis that had taken over my entire body. She looked at the two of us, practically feeling the invisible, heavy tension crackling through the air. Since she didn't know anything about Zephyr being my roommate, I guessed she put two and two together in an entirely different direction. She gave a knowing, silent nod, which means she must be assuming Cedric was the one I actually had a secret history with, and took a very deliberate step back toward the kitchen to give us some space. "Hi, Cedric," I said, my voice sounding a little softer, a little more breathless than I

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