Rules Of Our Own (Rule Breaker Series Book 3)

THE BACK-SEAT WINDOW fogs as I lean in, blurring my view of the resort. I missed my shuttle from the airport to Napa Valley and had to hire a private car for the nearly two-hour drive. I hand my credit card to the driver, and my fingers tap on my bouncing knee as I wait for the transaction to go through. It makes a loud beep, and the driver frowns at me.

“Miss, it’s declined.”

I fake a smile through my mortification and hand him a different one. “Sorry, wrong one.”

He swipes again, and relief washes over me as the telltale chime from the machine signals it’s approved. As a medical intern buried in school debt, I’m seriously broke, and after this trip, I’ll be chowing down on nothing but ramen noodles for the next month.

There’s no way I’d have been able to come if Lucas and Piper hadn’t paid for my stay, and I can’t thank them enough. I don’t have long to dwell on it. My door opens, and a smiling doorman welcomes me.

“Welcome to Resort Bardessono.”

“Thank you.”

My breath catches the second I step out of the car, and the soft, lilting fall of water fills my ears. The place is gorgeous. No. Stunning. I breathe in through my nose, the scent of flowers, rain, and honeysuckle hanging in the air. I’m still gawking at the resort’s modern architecture, which is somehow both modern and rustic, when a white Porsche rolls up behind me. The valet opens the door, revealing a vaguely familiar face, sending reality tipping on its axis. She’s from one of those housewives shows that plays on repeat in the hospital. I dash my gaze away, praying she didn’t catch me gawking.

I’m not in Kansas anymore, that’s for sure.

I know one day as a doctor, this won’t be unattainable, but right now, it’s like a freaking fairy tale. I guess this is what happens when your friend’s marrying an NHL star.

“Ms. Brooks,” the bellman says, jolting me from my thoughts. “If you’ll just come with me, I’ll guide you through the lobby.”

I reach for my carry-on, but another man dressed in a resort uniform gets to it first. “Don’t worry, miss. I’ll bring it to your room.”

I swallow hard, not sure how to tell him I can’t afford to tip. Instead, I grab hold of the handle and give him a smile. “I’d really rather keep it with me if that’s okay.”

He looks surprised but nods. “Of course.”

I follow the first man through the entry door, and I’m immediately greeted by happy squeals. Both Sidney and Piper are waiting for me next to their guys.

Jax releases his arms from around Sidney’s waist, running a hand through his shaggy brown hair and giving me a dimpled smile as Sidney skips toward me so fast you’d think we didn’t see each other weekly.

Her dark hair’s pulled up in a high ponytail that bounces with her steps, revealing the silver section underneath, and she’s wearing a matching top and skirt set with a floral pattern on it. Her full cheeks are flushed, and she’s smiling so widely her eyes crinkle at the corners. I’ve heard Jax call her a sexy librarian, and no matter how gross that is, it’s undoubtedly true.

“I can’t believe you missed your flight,” she chides, but it’s friendly with no judgment.

I shrug and stumble back as a weight slams into my side with an oomph.

Piper’s bright golden hair frames her face, her glittering cornflower eyes lit up with joy as she wraps her arms around me in a warm embrace. She is wearing a thin-strapped white eyelet dress that is feminine and elegant, perfect for a wedding weekend.

Meanwhile, I’m in my purple scrubs with teddy bear pins along the collar because I didn’t have time to change.

Piper lets out an exaggerated sigh and steps back. “Thank God you’re here. The guys outnumbered us all day. We had to watch hockey games. Old ones!”

Sidney laughs. She likes hockey just as much as the guys, but she doesn’t contradict our friend. They’d grown closer over the years, even while living in different cities.

Jax plays for the Ottawa Senators and Lucas for the Boston Bruins, so they bonded over their guys traveling and the highs and lows of being WAGs. Which is a term I still can’t believe they call themselves. Wives and girlfriends.

Lucas is tall and broad, with deep brown skin that stands in stark contrast to the petite and fair-skinned Piper. He wraps his arm around Piper’s tiny waist, and his brown eyes shine as he looks at her lovingly.

Just like their personalities. Complete opposites, but a perfect fit. Once he’s done nuzzling his soon-to-be wife’s neck, he gives me a smile. “Glad you made it.”

Jax wraps an arm around my shoulder and tugs me to his side. “Long trip?”

“Not a complete waste. I got a lot of work done while I waited.” I shrug.

He barks out a laugh. “Of course you did. You know, most people would’ve gotten drunk at the bar.”

“Since when have I been most people?” I reply, reaching to mess up his already messy brown hair like I’d seen him do to Piper.

We’d grown close, living in the same city for the last few months, both equally happy to spend time with Sidney.

He laughs. “Just promise to relax for a while. You’re getting stress lines.”

My hand flies to my forehead, and I glare at him. “Listen, you—”

“Who did you sucker in to watch Crooks?” Sidney asks, wrapping an arm around Jax’s back, deflecting nicely.

“Kid down the hall’s watching him.” Crooks, aka Crookshanks, is my orange tabby cat.

“Did you get an emergency contact number in case he’s attacked?” Jax asks, fighting back a grin.

I roll my eyes. “What? She’s sixteen. I’m sure she can handle one cat for the weekend.”

“That would be true if your cat wasn’t possessed,” Lucas adds unhelpfully.

“He’s not that bad. Stop exaggerating.” I look between the three of them for backup, but they’re all wearing matching smirks.

“Oh, yes he is.” Jax holds up his arm, revealing the thin lines of scars. “Vicious.”

“I told you not to pick him up. He doesn’t like that.”

“Oh, how could I forget. Don’t pick him up. Don’t touch him. Don’t sit in his favorite spot. Don’t breathe in his direction.” By the time Jax is done, he’s full-on laughing.

On second thought, maybe I should send the cat sitter a quick text.

“Okay, okay. Let’s check you in.” Piper grabs my hand, cutting me off, her smile a little too wide, and there’s a suspicious-looking glint in her eyes as I follow her to the front desk.

The attendant welcomes me to the resort, and I tell her my name. She takes a second to search through the computer before her eyes meet mine. “I’m sorry, miss, but I don’t have a room under that name.”

Shit. Piper booked all of this, and I didn’t even think to check. She’s overloaded with wedding stuff. I should’ve known better. Piper squeezes my arm as if she senses my unease and says, “Check the villas.”

I shoot her a look, saying she’s insane. They’re like ten thousand a night.

“Ah, there you are. I’ve got you down for four nights. Is that correct?”

I’m too stunned to speak, so Piper answers the rest of the concierge’s questions. The woman slides a yellow bracelet over my wrist before I have time to process anything.

“This will give you access to your room and all other areas of the resort. Enjoy your stay.”

The second we’re away from the desk, I grab Piper’s shoulders. “You can’t be serious. It’s way too much.”

Sidney joins in, wearing the same mischievous look Piper had on earlier. “Relax, it’s fine.”

They’re clearly up to something, but Lucas and Jax grab their girls before I can confront them.

“We’ll see you in the morning, ’kay?” Piper calls out as her fiancé tugs her along to their room.

“Can’t wait.” She booked us a full salon prep day, and I’m seriously looking forward to it.

“Right this way, miss.” The bellman latches onto my bag before I can get to it and leads the way through the maze-like paths. It’s lit by a soft, warm glow, with a quiet and peaceful ambiance. The music from hidden speakers blends into the background, creating a tranquil atmosphere. Everything seems inviting and charming, providing an escape from everyday life.

A girl could get used to this.

We stop in front of villa number two, and I take a step back as my brain tries to process it. It’s a standalone building the size of a small cabin, crafted with a mix of wood and steel that just screams money. “This can’t be my place.”

“I assure you, miss. It is. Just use your wrist pass.”

The lock on the door clicks open when I bring my wrist to the small black circle above the handle, and I push it inward.

The bellman steps in first with my bag, and I grimace when he asks me if there’s anything else I need.

Swallowing, I face the music. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any cash on me.”

“No problem, miss. It’s all covered.” He does an almost bow-like gesture as he steps away and makes his way back to the lobby.

Well, that’s a relief.

The room is large and airy, with the back wall lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that fill the room with moonlight. A large mountain is outlined in the background. The generous bed on one side looks as if it was custom-made, and there’s a comfortable sofa beside it. A kitchen and dining area are tucked away in one corner, and a warm fire crackles in the fireplace. All the furniture is modern yet cozy and inviting.

The bed’s covered in crisp white linens, and I don’t waste a second stripping out of my scrubs. I kick off my Crocs, sliding off each sock before working at the knot holding up my pants. They hit the floor, where I shake them from my ankles, leaving me in just my lilac panties with a cat face on the front and Tell your cat I said pspspsps written across the back. I grasp the bottom of my shirt, grateful to finally get it off, when one of the teddy bear pins along the collar snags in my hair. I wiggle it from side to side, but with every move, it tugs my hair more. Shit. My arms are stuck above my head in the makeshift straightjacket, and I struggle to escape, only for the edge of the bed to clip the back of my knees, sending me sprawling backward onto it.

“Woah there, Kitten. You haven’t even bought me dinner yet,” a familiar voice says from a few feet away, sucking the air from my lungs.

I yank the pin out, pulling myself free, only to realize I’m now in nothing but a thin tank top and panties.

Standing in the bathroom doorway, gaze roaming over every inch of my exposed skin with a cloud of steam billowing around him, is a nearly naked Alex Grayson, star forward for the Boston Bruins.