Page 44 of About That Rule

“Ever since we got back from Vegas, though, she’s been acting different.”

“What do you mean?” He did his best to not sound too intrigued.

Noah shrugged. “You know how she loves to go out and meet people. She hasn’t done that at all. I know I have a busy schedule with soccer, but when we get together for lunch, she has no outrageous Sammy stories to share. It’s been weird.”

“I bet.”

Oh, little did Noah know the stories he could share about her.

“Anyway, I see she’s back to her normal self, chatting away with some friend of Jason’s. He’s a player, just like…well just like how she was. I bet I’ll get some story out of her soon.”

“Yeah.” Nate was pissed. “Excuse me.”

He left the table where he stood with Noah and strode over to Samantha.

Fuck their rules and fuck her going back to her old ways.

“DO YOU HAVE plans after this?” Dimitri asked her, alluding to them leaving together.

A few months ago, she would have been all over it. But it wasn’t happening anymore. It was immature of her to have even came over and flirted with him in the first place. She’d done it out of sheer anger at Nate, which was petty. She was about to tell him she was nixing the idea of leaving together, but someone interrupted their conversation before she had the chance.

“I need to talk to you,” Nate barked at her, moving to stand in front of Dimitri. Poor guy must have realized there was no chance with Nate’s abrupt interjection, so he walked over to another woman at the bar. He had better luck with someone else anyway, so there were no feelings hurt on Samantha’s side of things.

“And you thought interrupting my conversation with someone else was the way to do it?” she snapped back.

“Yes, in fact, I do. We’re leaving,” he demanded without giving her an option. “We both have rooms in this hotel. Mine or yours?”

She stomped her foot. “You’ve got to be joking. I am not going anywhere with you.”

Nate’s hand lifted her chin so she saw the severity in his face. “I’m not playing around. We need to talk. If you want to leave afterward, fine. But I’m not having a much-needed conversation with you in a reception hall where anyone can hear us.”

Samantha wasn’t giving in. It was like he expected her to just follow him and provide some witty comment that would bring the mood down. Not this time.

“Then I guess the conversation you think we need so badly,” she used her hands to make quotation marks, “is going to have to wait.”

“No.”

That was his comeback. Just one solid word.

“Yes,” she clipped out.

His hand moved through his hair. “Sammy, please. I’m begging here. This shit needs to end. We have to talk about everything we’ve ignored.”

She stepped close to him, determination in her eyes. “I have nothing to say to you. We’ve both made it clear nothing is happening between us.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“You’re bullshit,” she swatted back, louder than she’d hoped.

“Fuck this,” he said before putting the glass he held on the bar. Grabbing her arm, he started moving, and she had no option but to trail after him because the grip he had on her was strong.

She slapped his arm. He yanked her forward. He even had the nerve to say goodbye to people as they shuffled out of the ballroom. By the time they got to the elevator, he let go of her arm, and she pushed him.

“You caused a scene!” she shrieked.

The elevator opened, and he led her out. “I’ll apologize tomorrow.”

This was the night that broke the camel’s back.