Rules Of Our Own (Rule Breaker Series Book 3)

“NOW BOARDING for flight WS2371 from Ottawa to San Francisco,” a woman’s voice crackles through the cavernous airport’s speakers. I can’t miss this flight. Not when the next one’s not for another four hours. Tonight’s the first night of Piper and Lucas’s destination wedding celebration, and we’re supposed to be hanging out just us girls. No doubt involving copious amounts of alcohol, which, at this point, I desperately need.

I’d taken the early shift at the hospital—I’m a first-year intern, so my days are absolute chaos. Then, mistakenly, I thought I could squeeze in an extra hour of research on my Prosthetics For Kids charity. My one more minute had magically morphed into two wasted hours, leaving me in this mess.

“Are you listening?” Gerard’s voice cuts through the phone.

I adjust my cell, pinned between my shoulder and ear. “Yes, of course.”

“I’m serious, Mia. Two months, then I’m moving the funding to Eric’s team.”

“That’s not enough time.” My throat goes dry, and my steps falter as his words slam into me. When my local Prosthetics For Kids fundraiser took off, Gerard was the first to offer to back me financially. He works for AstroCore Holdings, a company that helps allocate funds to different charities.

I’d been over the moon knowing this was my chance to expand Prosthetics For Kids from grassroots to national. He’d warned me then that his support depended on me figuring out how to expand my backyard fundraiser to a full-fledged charity. Which translates directly into raising money. One backer alone isn’t enough. At the time, I thought, how hard could it be?

Hard. Really flipping hard.

“I’m sorry, Mia. It’s not personal. I can’t tie up funding in a charity that’s not going to take off. You know this.”

It’s not personal, my ass.

Nothing in my life has ever been this personal. My heart drops at the thought of those innocent kids going without the help they need. I can almost feel their smiles slowly fading and see the anguish and worry return to their parents’ eyes.

I weave through people waiting at their gates and grit my teeth. “I’ll get it done.”

“You better. This is your last chance,” Gerard says, his voice steady, making it crystal clear he means it.

The phone goes silent.

My eyes sting, and I blink back tears. I’m going to need an actual miracle to pull this off. Unfortunately, praying hasn’t resulted in any help.

Trust me. I’ve tried.

With the lack of divine intervention, I’ve been killing myself to raise the money. I’ve spent what feels like years of my life researching hashtags, trends, viral freaking sounds, knowing that social media’s my best shot at making this work.

“We are now inviting those passengers with small children, and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding at this time for flight WS2371 from Ottawa to San Francisco.”

I squint to see the gate sign down the hall, and my heart kicks up as I double my pace. With the change of speed, my suitcase goes from humming behind me to the cheap handle twisting in my grip.

Shit. Shit. Shit.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

I give it a quick tug, trying to balance it out, but the hard plastic bottom catches the back of my heel.

Argh! I swallow my cry and bite my cheek against the shards of pain radiating through my foot. Every cuss word known to man flies through my head as I reach down and fix the strap of my Croc. I fight the urge to collapse on the ground, clutching my foot, and keep moving, hobbling as fast as I can.

There’s a crowd of people at my gate, but instead of forming lines to board the plane, they’re all staring toward the desk, which is currently blocked from view.

Relief washes over me, and I take a few calming breaths. I’m one step closer to my night of gossiping with Sidney and Piper while we put together decorations for her wedding. This is like Bridesmaids 101.

I’ve been hiding my exhaustion from my friends, even as I’m sliding toward total burnout—holding on by a thread—and I desperately need this. I squeeze between two men and scrunch up my nose at the overpowering scent of cologne. Please, dear God, don’t let them sit next to me.

There’s an attendant with perfectly pinned-back hair speaking with a man at the front. He’s pleading with her. “You don’t understand. My wife’s having our baby. I don’t know what happened. She’s not due for at least three more weeks.” He places both hands on the counter. “She needs me.”

His tone shreds through my chest, and a desperate desire to do something, anything, squeezes my ribs.

The woman speaks into her microphone, “This man is trying to get home for the birth of his child. I’m calling for a volunteer to agree to being bumped to the next flight.”

He looks frantic, hair sticking up, shirt half-buttoned, and his eyes dart through the crowd, begging for help.

People shift around me, but no one steps forward. The attendant looks at the man with sympathy. “I’m sorry, sir, but the best I can do is book you onto the later one.”

His shoulders collapse inward, and the corners of his eyes redden. His helplessness goes straight to my heart, and I step forward, knowing this means bailing on the girls, but I’ll make it up to them somehow.

I move to his side, facing the attendant dressed in an impeccable blue suit, and slide my ticket toward her. “He can have my seat. I don’t have a checked bag.”

The man audibly inhales, and he looks between me and the attendant. I give him a hesitant look, worried I’m giving him false hope.

Her fingers fly over the keyboard, and she scans the screen before looking at us with a blooming smile. “I can make the switch,” she addresses me. “You do understand you’ll have to wait four hours for the next flight?”

“Yes. It’s not a problem,” I say immediately.

She nods and hands the soon-to-be father his boarding pass. “Enjoy your flight, and congratulations.”

He turns to me, eyes watering. “Thank you,” he says and wraps me in a hug. I pat his back a few times until he lets me go.

“No trouble at all. Congratulations.”

With those words, he’s off, rushing down the tunnel toward the plane.

A warm feeling settles in my stomach, happy with my decision.

“You were very generous,” the attendant remarks, not bothering to look up from her computer.

I shrug in response. “It was nothing. Anyone else would’ve done the same.”

Her gaze floats over the crowd of people finally moving toward the counter. She raises a brow and hands me a new ticket. “I’m not so sure about that. We’ll see you in a few hours.”

I make my way toward the waiting area and do my best to get comfortable on the hard plastic seat before pulling out my phone.

Sighing, I type in the group chat.

Me: Missed my flight. Coming in late. 

My bestie slash university roommate is the first to respond.

Sidney: Please tell me you weren’t still at the clinic. I texted you two hours ago. 

Me: No comment. 

Piper: Sorry to hear that. Still coming in tonight? 

Even though it’s Piper’s wedding, I’m not surprised she’s calm about me being late. If anyone understands my obsessive need to concentrate on the charity, it’s her. As someone who works as a physiotherapist helping patients with new prosthetics, Piper’s just as invested as I am. We’ve bonded over the years, and now I’m as close with her as I am with Sidney.

Me: Just a few extra hours. Don’t wait up. 

Sidney: Please *eye roll emoji* We’ll see you when you get here. 

Me: *kissy face emoji*

Sidney: Wait! This has nothing to do with Jason, right? 

Sidney and Piper hate my ex Jason with the intensity of a thousand burning suns.

The Jason who wants the house, the wife, the 2.5 kids, and the picket fence. The Jason who grew up with a silver spoon and a dad who sits on the board of my hospital. The Jason who never misses an opportunity to bring up the fact that he’d been the reason I landed my internship in the first place.

The same Jason who made me feel like an absolute piece of garbage.

He constantly complained I didn’t prioritize him enough, and I couldn’t even deny it. I’m not going to just give up my work because my boyfriend can’t handle it.

Pretty sure he thought I’d cave eventually because after a year, he dumped me, calling me selfish.

Our breakup should’ve hurt, but the truth is…it didn’t. Which is why when he flipped his script and started telling me he was sorry and we were meant to be together, I ignored him.

At the time, his texts came through every five minutes. They started with I love you and I’m sorry, then rapidly transformed into calling me a selfish bitch who wasted a year of his life. The trickle of guilt that I’d used him as a placeholder is the only reason he’s not blocked. He was someone to fill the empty space in my life where a relationship should be. But I never gave him my heart. Not really.

Not when I’d made that mistake three years ago.

Me: No. I think he finally got the hint.

Sidney: He better have. Pretty sure Jax is ready to murder him.

Piper: Yeah, Lucas too. 

Me: Well, no murder necessary.

I grab my backpack from the floor and drop it on the chair beside me, waiting for the next message to come through.

Sidney: Alex and River flew in this afternoon. *winky face emoji*

A jolt flares in my chest. I don’t know how I’m going to feel seeing them again, but if it’s anything like the anticipation, I might actually explode. Nervous energy skates under my skin. I haven’t let myself so much as think of them since I graduated from university three years ago. Anything more than that has me spiraling into things I wish could’ve been.

It only took one semester for my every thought to revolve around Alex and River. I’d fall asleep to good-night texts and wake up to good-morning messages. I didn’t know it was possible for a person to consume your life that fast, let alone two of them.

At some point, our friendship shifted, and I swear you could cut the tension between us with a freaking knife. It all felt new, and fun, and meant to be. Until it didn’t.

That last night at the bar haunts me. We were at the club, dancing, and things finally started to click into place. Alex grabbed my hips, and I caught my breath when he leaned down, and his mouth began to descend to mine. Time slowed, with each ticking millisecond bringing him closer.

I closed my eyes, ready to finally feel him against me, but his warmth disappeared. When I opened them, Alex was on the ground, holding his face, and River was standing next to me, fist clenched at his side.

I knew there was no way I could choose, and I refused to come between them. So, even though it felt like I was ripping my own heart out, I ghosted them both and didn’t look back.

Me: So?

Piper: So you haven’t spoken with them since university. 

Sidney: Don’t even pretend like things didn’t turn south. You three were inseparable, then one day you were crying in your bedroom. 

Of course she heard that. I’m not ready to get into it. Not when so much of it still feels like an open wound.

Me: It was university. We were practically kids. Plus, we never even kissed. Just friends and all that.

Piper: Keep telling yourself that. 

We really were just friends. That’s all I let us be. My eyes burn, and I fight against the memories. They’d balanced each other perfectly. Alex made me happier, lighter when I was too harsh on myself, and River knew when to sit back and just let me work through it. He offered the steady support I needed. Sometimes things are stressful. Hard. That doesn’t mean I needed to give up. Unlike Jason, River understood that.

I change the subject, and I’m grateful when they let me.

Me: Love you two. I can’t believe you’re getting married.

Piper: Believe it!

I turn off my phone and pull out my laptop, determined not to waste a single second of this delay. As much as it kills me, I know there’s no way I’m getting anything done once I get to Napa. Piper and Lucas are the closest thing I’ve seen to real-life soulmates, except maybe Jax and Sidney. There’s no doubt in my mind this is a once-in-a-lifetime moment to support her.

See? Not selfish. 

I ignore the small part of me that’s relieved that getting in so late means I won’t have to face Alex and River tonight after all.