Jay Crownover - Rule

Published by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London, SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by Harper 2013

Copyright © Jennifer M Voorhees 2013

Cover photograph © Rekha Garton/Getty Images

Cover layout design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2014

Jennifer M Voorhees asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 978007536290

Ebook Edition © May 2013 ISBN: 9780007536283

Version: 2016-04-29

Dedicated to everyone who listened to me complain about needing a new life plan all year long. Also to those who encouraged me to just do what I do best. I try to write what I know, just a more romantic and idealized version of it, so this is also for all the real-life tattooed boys who have been in and out of my life over the years and served as inspiration for my heroes.

Contents

Cover

Title Page RULE Jay Crownover

Copyright Copyright Published by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London, SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk First published in Great Britain by Harper 2013 Copyright © Jennifer M Voorhees 2013 Cover photograph © Rekha Garton/Getty Images Cover layout design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2014 Jennifer M Voorhees asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Source ISBN: 978007536290 Ebook Edition © May 2013 ISBN: 9780007536283 Version: 2016-04-29

Dedication Dedicated to everyone who listened to me complain about needing a new life plan all year long. Also to those who encouraged me to just do what I do best. I try to write what I know, just a more romantic and idealized version of it, so this is also for all the real-life tattooed boys who have been in and out of my life over the years and served as inspiration for my heroes.

Chapter 1: Rule

Chapter 2: Shaw

Chapter 3: Rule

Chapter 4: Shaw

Chapter 5: Rule

Chapter 6: Shaw

Chapter 7: Rule

Chapter 8: Shaw

Chapter 9: Rule

Chapter 10: Shaw

Chapter 11: Rule

Chapter 12: Shaw

Chapter 13: Rule

Chapter 14: Shaw

Chapter 15: Rule

Chapter 16: Shaw

Chapter 17: Rule

Epilogue: About eight months later

If this story had a soundtrack this is what it would be

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About me

About the Author

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At first I thought the pounding in my head was my brain trying to fight its way out of my skull after the ten or so shots of Crown Royal I had downed last night, but then I realized the noise was someone storming around in my apartment. She was here, and with dread I remembered that it was Sunday. No matter how many times I told her, or how rude I was to her, or whatever kind of debauched and unsavory condition she found me in, she showed up every Sunday morning to drag me home for brunch.

A soft moan from the other side of the bed reminded me that I hadn’t come home alone from the bar last night. Not that I remembered the girl’s name or what she looked like, or if it had even been worth her while to stumble into my apartment with me. I ran a hand over my face and swung my legs over the edge of the bed just as the bedroom door swung open. I never should have given the little brat a key. I didn’t bother to cover up; she was used to walking in and finding me hungover and naked—I didn’t see why today should be any different. The girl on the other side of the bed rolled over and narrowed her eyes at the new addition to our awkward little party.

“I thought you said you were single?” The accusation in her tone lifted the hair on the back of my neck. Any chick who was willing to come home with a stranger for a night of no-strings-attached sex didn’t get the right to pass judgment, especially while she was still naked and rumpled in my bed.

“Give me twenty,” I said, my eyes shifting to the blonde in the doorway as I ran a hand through my messy hair.

She lifted an eyebrow. “You have ten.”

I would have lifted an eyebrow back at her tone and attitude but my head was killing me, and the gesture would have been wasted on her anyway; she was way past immune to my shit.

“I’ll make coffee. I already invited Nash but he said he has to go to the shop for an appointment. I’ll be in the car.” She spun on her heel, and, just like that, the doorway was empty. I was struggling to my feet, searching the floor for the pair of pants I might have tossed down there last night.

“What’s going on?”

I had temporarily forgotten about the girl in my bed. I swore softly under my breath and tugged a black T-shirt that looked reasonably clean over my head. “I have to go.”

“What?”

I frowned at her as she lifted herself up in the bed and clutched the sheet to her chest. She was pretty and had a nice body from what I could see. I wondered what kind of game I had thrown at her in order to get her to come home with me. She was one I didn’t mind waking up to this morning.

“I have somewhere I need to be, so that means you need to get up and get going. Normally my roommate would be around, so you could hang out for a minute, but he had to go to work, so that means you need to get that fine ass in gear and get out.”

She sputtered a little at me. “Are you kidding me?”

I looked over my shoulder as I dug my boots out from under a pile of laundry and shoved my feet into them. “No.”

“What kind of asshole does that? Not even a ‘thanks for last night, you were great, how about lunch?’ Just ‘get the fuck out’?” She threw the sheet aside and I noticed she had a nice tattoo scrawled along her ribs that curled across her shoulder and along her collarbone. That was probably what had attracted me to her in my drunken stupor in the first place. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”