Writing the Rules: A Fake Dating Standalone Mariah Dietz (best novels to read .txt) 📖

They have that hazelnut drink back that you like,” Rae says, dropping her garbage bag.

“Yes, I miss their muffins.” Lincoln grins. For three years, Rae worked at the local coffee shop before quitting last spring when she started to work for the aquarium and volunteer for a cytologist.

Rae looks at me as she grabs her coat. “Come on. We’ll get to this when we get back. Maybe by that time, the others will be awake.”

“That’s okay. I’m going to gather all of the loose cans and put them in the recycling bin and then start picking up the backyard.”

I sense her doubt and reluctance for me to stay behind as her blue eyes connect with mine. Since Mike returned last week, she’s been my shadow. I’m sure she’s waiting for me to crack, the reminder of summer after our senior year still plaguing her thoughts. Similar to then, I feel a draw toward isolation, but I don’t feel the same emptiness and need to wallow.

“Your girlfriend’s checking me out more than she’s checking you out,” I tell Lincoln.

He grins as he drapes his arm around Rae’s shoulders. “Can we pick something up for you? Do you want a green tea? Or a chai tea?”

Raegan’s gaze turns soft. Lincoln has started to familiarize himself with me as much as I have with him. It’s strange and endearing and weirdly comfortable, a reminder that I can socialize with the opposite sex.

“A green tea would be great. Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about the mess,” he says, grabbing his coat. “I hired a cleaning crew to come this afternoon.”

Rae pulls her chin back. “You did?”

He nods. “You said it yourself; people are disgusting. And this being one of the few three-day weekends this semester, I didn’t want to spend the day cleaning. We’re going to go get breakfast, and then you have to pack a bag because we’re going on an overnight trip.”

Her excitement and surprise are cut short by her concern for me.

“I’m fine,” I tell her before she can try to come up with an excuse. “I promise.”

Lincoln looks between us. I don’t know what or how much she’s shared with him about Mike, but I’m guessing it’s not a lot based upon his visible confusion. This is one of the million reasons I know Rae is my best friend. She would do nearly anything for me because we’re more than friends—we’re sisters. And while I know she loves Lincoln with her whole heart, I also know it doesn’t make her love me any less.

“My ex moved back and he showed up at the party last night, and Rae’s worried I’m going to relapse and cry in my Cheerios,” I tell him.

Lincoln frowns. “Why didn’t you guys say something? I would have gladly kicked his ass out.”

“I didn’t want to kick him out. I needed this. Closure and … whatever. I got to see him and realize he’s happy, and he’s dating a girl who seems nice, and things are still good and friendly between us.”

Lincoln looks at Raegan. “Maybe she should counsel Paxton and Candace so they can have a breakup like this.”

Rae rolls her eyes, calling my bluff.

“I’m fine,” I tell her. “This will be good for you guys. Go be a couple and do couple things. I’m going to clean out my closet, catch up on homework, bake some cupcakes, and binge-watch Veronica Mars.”

“More cupcakes?” Rae asks.

“I picked up the liners. And because Olivia crushed my love for pre-made frosting, telling me it has palm oil in it and how that kills the orangutans, I’ve found a frosting recipe.”

Rae’s eyebrows tick upward. “That you’re going to make? From scratch?”

“I can do it.”

She does a lousy job of hiding her doubt.

“Go get my green tea,” I order.

Lincoln cracks a smile as he pulls the door open and kisses Rae’s temple. “Let’s go,” he tells her.

Rae keeps her attention on me for a moment, looking for a confirmation I’m not sure how to offer. I want to. I want to feel the same assurance myself because the idea of having Mike living in the same city and attending the same school makes the walls feel like they’re closing in on me.

“Will you get me a bagel, too, please? Onion or everything with the herbed cream cheese.” One of the things that makes Rae feel better is helping, and giving her a task is guaranteed to help distract her from my relationship status. Plus, I’m starving.

“Yes. Absolutely. We’ll be back shortly.” She spins toward the door that Lincoln is still holding open.

He looks back at me. Most would consider Lincoln Beckett to be one of the kings of broody. He hates bullshit, drama, and most people, and never would I advise anyone to cross him, but behind his tough exterior lies a gentleness and kindness that is a thousand percent genuine. I have no doubt he’d do anything for Rae, or me for that matter. “This guy sounds like a total dick,” he says. “His loss, Poppy. Definitely his loss.”

I offer a rueful smile as he closes the door, but my bottom lip trembles, making it difficult to keep in place. I don’t know why I feel the rush of emotions, but I have no interest in reflecting on any of the feelings that have my chest and throat feeling tight, a few of them escaping in the form of tears down my cheeks. I hastily wipe them away and pull in a steadying breath.

I grab the garbage bag and wander through the house, cleaning up apples, cups, cans, bottles, plates, and random items people left behind.

“Hey,” Pax says, wiping his eyes as he rounds the corner and leans against the doorframe. He’s wearing a pair of black sweatpants, his chest bare, showing off a pattern of tattoos that cover his forearm like bands and script that marks his torso.

The cup I was holding falls, splashing the bottom cupboard with vodka that people had begun drinking straight from the kiddie pool where the apples were.

Pax