Read For Real (Rules of Love, Book One) for Free Online Page A

him on the couch again, being careful to avoid the coffee table this time.
    Jett puts his head in his hands and rubs his eyes. He looks tired when he raises his head again.
    “I have no idea,” he says, but the way he says it means that he has more than an idea. He knows exactly what Javier means, but I can’t begin to figure it out.
    “Look, I should go. I can, um, call a cab.”
    “No, no, you don’t have to do that. I can drive you if you want to go.” He almost sounds sad.
    “I mean, I don’t want to go. I just felt kind of weird, intruding on your life.” I start to stand, but he grabs my arm to stop me.
    “You don’t have to go. Stay.” His glorious eyes plead with me.
    “Okay,” I say without even thinking about it and sitting back down. Wow, I’m easy.
    So, what now?
    “I’m really sorry about him. He’s a great guy; his delivery just sucks sometimes. He also has issues with tact. As in he doesn’t know what it is and doesn’t want to learn.”
    “Yeah, that sounds like Hazel.” I don’t mean to mention her, but it’s sort of inevitable. “My roommate. She was pissing me off so bad tonight. She’s also my best friend, but sometimes she needs to back the hell off. Tonight she went too far.” And now I feel like I’m going to cry again, but I swallow it. Jett gives me a sympathetic look that I want to hide from.
    “Friends can be cruel sometimes, can’t they?” I nod.
    “You let them get away with things that you wouldn’t let a stranger get away with.
    “I hear you.” And then we start talking. About friends, and roommates and going against the grain, and childhood traumas and random life moments. He gets me laughing again and once I start, I can’t stop.
    We talk until I’m starving again, and we go to the kitchen, put a bunch of things together and make the most random nachos ever. Velveeta, black beans, tomatoes, leftover chicken, pepperonis, red peppers, onions, hot sauce.
    “It looks both disgusting and delicious,” I say as we shove the concoction in the oven.
    “I still think the hot dogs would have added something special,” he says, setting the timer and leaning back against the counter.
    “That’s just too much meat.” I make a face.
    “That’s what she said.” I roll my eyes at his terrible joke.
    “Yeah, Javier is the immature one.” He smiles again and I’m struck with the urge to lick his face. Yeah, I have no idea where that came from. I have never had the desire to lick someone’s face before. Temporary insanity?
    “Do I have something on my face?” Whilst I’ve been pondering the face lick, I have, once again, been caught staring.
    “Nope. Nothing.” I manage to play it off. Maybe I’m getting better at this. Just requires practice.
    Jett’s phone rings when the nachos are almost done. His ringtone is the sound of Darth Vader breathing and it scares the shit out of me until he answers it.
    “Hey . . . No . . . No. NO. You’re drunk. Goodbye.” He looks down at his phone and shakes his head.
    “I swear if I have to pick up his drunken ass again, I’m going to hogtie him, draw penises all over his face with permanent marker and take tons of pictures.”
    “Javier?” I ask.
    “Yeah. He’s still in a good place, drunk-wise, but one more drink and he’ll start crying about losing his cat when he was ten. If I have to listen to that again, I’m going to lose my shit.” He groans and stares at the nachos as the timer dings.
    “I should probably go get him. He’s already had one DUI and he doesn’t need another.”
    “Oh. Okay. I’ll just call a cab. No big.” He looks at me and I feel it too. I don’t want to leave. Despite all the stupid things I’ve said tonight, I like being around him. Yeah, sure, I’ve known the guy for only a few hours, but sometimes you meet people and you click. You get each other. And if you get each other’s twisted sense of humor, that’s even better.
    “I can go get him and then drop you off, if you