Forgetting the Rules (The Dating Playbook #5) - Mariah Dietz Page 0,2

is closest to Chantay. They met last year, and she joined our small circle, a willing participant to our craziest and dumbest ideas.

I work to look unaffected. Calm. Relaxed. Anything but how I actually feel, which is a confounding mess of jealousy and anger. “That’s good,” I tell her. “Ian’s a good guy.”

“He has this hot, broody thing going on, doesn’t he?” Chantay asks.

At one time, I’d considered Ian to be broody as well, but last spring erased that term entirely from all thoughts that pertain to him. He’s quiet, intense, sexy, brilliant, driven, and the kind of alpha that most college guys aren’t mature enough to embody because where they look to prove their strength and power with a punch, Ian does it with control. There’s no bullshit with him—he’s entirely and addictively honest and real.

“He’s a really good guy,” I say.

“But you’re okay with her dating him?”

I nearly wince at the term. “Yeah. Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Chantay grins, slapping both hands on the steering wheel. “At least you’re still sane. We may have lost two good soldiers, but we have each other.”

I suck in a breath and release it slowly in an attempt to slow my racing thoughts that are running through the short cycle of last spring when my feelings toward Ian were continuously questioned not only by my closest friends but myself as well.

We have breakfast inside the old diner. The tables always smell of bleach and sour milk, and the coffee is so weak I can see my spoon as I stir in the creamer, but they serve beer and the best biscuits and gravy, which leaves a lot of room for excuses to be made about everything else.

When she drops me off back at home, I find Olivia and her boyfriend, Arlo, on our couch.

“You’re up early,” Olivia says. “Everything okay?”

I nod as I round the counter into our tiny kitchen, seeking some fresh coffee. “I went to breakfast with Chantay.”

“You went out for breakfast, and you’re already getting more coffee?” Arlo asks.

“We had beer,” I tell him, feeling a slight buzz from the alcohol. “I’m going to take a shower and get ready to head to the paper.”

“Beer?” Olivia’s disappointment is only slightly masked by her surprise. “For breakfast?”

“It’s a long story.” It’s easier to say that than explain that I only drank half a glass and feel a little buzzed because I haven’t drunk anything in months.

“Do you have anything this afternoon?” she asks, her full attention on me now. “You want to hang out?”

“Yes! I recently read a review for a new Cantonese restaurant I really want to try. We could do lunch or dinner since I only have the paper today.

“That sounds great. How about you go with us to the park cleanup, and I’ll treat you to some dim sum.”

I freeze with my coffee mug midair, still too far from my mouth. They’ve been trying to get me to participate in this volunteering obligation that Arlo is tied to as part of Brighton’s football team for weeks, but the idea of hanging out with a bunch of pre-teens and scrubbing at graffiti has had me doling out excuses. “How about we meet at seven, and I’ll text you the name of the restaurant.”

“Come on, Rose. We need you. We’re short a volunteer, and it’s just for a couple of hours.” Olivia’s voice is hopeful, laying on the first layer of guilt.

“I wish I could, but I can’t. I’m allergic to kids,” I tell her.

Olivia’s expression falls, passing from disappointment to disgruntled, adding the second layer of guilt.

“I just had beer for breakfast, and I forget to feed myself some days. There’s no way I should be allowed around kids. Especially not as a role model.”

“She never said role model,” Arlo says.

“What he means is you’re not giving yourself enough credit.” She gives him an intentional side-eye. “You’d make a great role model.”

“Exactly. And you’d be doing me a real solid,” Arlo says. “Rae Rae and Poppy will be there,” he says this like it matters, and surprisingly, it kind of does. Raegan Lawson is dating Lincoln Beckett, AKA, The President, one of Arlo’s teammates, and Poppy Anderson is her best friend. Over the summer, we’ve developed a friendship, one that I like far more than I’d expected to. “And some news crews will be there. Hell, I might even be able to get your yoga classes mentioned.”

Olivia’s eyes lock onto mine. “Some of these kids don’t have parents