Free Rules of a Rebel and a Shy Girl by Jessica Sorensen Page B

my window. I don’t budge, terrified I was correct about the drug lord.
    The tapping happens repeatedly, and then my phone hums with an incoming message.
    Beck: Would you please just come to your window? I can see through the curtains, so I know you’re awake.
    My gaze darts to the window as I climb out of bed.
    Padding across my room, I pull back the curtains, seeing Beck smiling at me, his posture stiff.
    “What are you doing out there?” I ask as I slide open the window.
    “Making you a real, live princess,” he jokes, tossing a glance over his shoulder at the parking lot.
    “How does this make me a real, live princess?”
    “Because I’m your Prince Charming, here to rescue you.” He motions for me to move. “Now move back so I can climb in.”
    I want to argue, but loud music and yelling makes me easily step back.
    Lowering his head, he ducks inside then straightens, brushing some dirt off his sleeve.
    “This is very chivalrous of you,” I tease, nervous.
    While Beck does make me feel safe, he hasn’t been in my bedroom in ages, a room that’s probably about as big as his closet and smells like stale cigarettes. The whole apartment does.
    “I’m just glad you weren’t on the second floor.” He scans the bare walls and my unmade bed. When his eyes land on my snow globe collection, he smiles. “Mine’s in the front.”
    For some dumb reason, my cheeks heat like he just discovered a dirty little secret or something.
    “It’s my favorite one,” I say to cover up my mortification.
    His smile grows as he lightly taps my nose. “Good. I’m glad.”
    I return his smile, feeling a little lost. “I don’t mean for this to sound rude, but why are you here?”
    His smile disappears. “Because I couldn’t bring myself to drive away and leave you alone in this shit.”
    “It’s fine,” I lie. “It’s not anything I haven’t dealt with before.”
    “That doesn’t make it right.” He wanders around my room, looking at my locked bedroom door and then at my bed again. “I have some work stuff to do really early, but I want to stick around for a few hours if that’s okay with you. At least until the party dies down.”
    “I’m not sure if it will die down. It might. But sometimes, my mom can keep it up for days.”
    “Well, I’ll stay as long as I can.”
    I fiddle with the hem of my short pajama bottoms, glad the lamp offers limited lighting. “You really don’t have to do that.”
    “I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” He plops down on my bed and leans over to untie his boots.
    “What are you doing?” I squeak like an idiot.
    He peers up at me with amusement dancing in his eyes. “Taking off my shoes.”
    I remain near the open window, terrified of getting any closer to him as memories of the last time we were alone in a bedroom storm through my mind. “But why?”
    “I figured I’d lie down with you until you fall asleep.” Once he gets his shoes off, he sits up and reaches for the hem of his long-sleeved shirt.
    My breath lodges in my throat as I watch him pull it over his head. Then I try not to frown disappointedly at the T-shirt he has on underneath.
    When he notices me staring, he presses his lips together as he drops the shirt onto the floor. I worry he can read my dirty thoughts all over my face, so I hastily look away from his chest.
    “This is okay, right?” he asks. “I don’t want to make you nervous. That’s kind of the opposite of my intentions.”
    “You’re fine.” Deciding to stop being a coward, I force my feet forward and make my way to the bed. “It’s just weird having you in my room.”
    “Why?” He slides over, so I can sit down beside him. “You’ve been in mine a thousand times. You’ve even slept there.”
    “I know.” I tuck my hands underneath my legs. “But I like going to your place. This isn’t the kind of place anyone likes to go. Well, except for my mom’s trashy friends.”
    He unbuckles his belt. “I don’t mind being