Chapter 6 Rule Number One
Rule Number One
UNCOVER BY ZARA LARSSON
Daisy
“I thought you weren’t working on this trip,” I say as I step out of the bathroom into the bedroom. Mateo is sitting on the bed with his laptop open on his lap, but his eyes lift slowly—deliberately—starting at my feet and dragging upward, unhurried, like he’s savoring every inch of me.
I know what he sees: the one piece romper with wide-legged floral palazzo pants, the cut-out at my stomach, the bralette-style top that frames my chest. My outfit makes me feel confident, feminine, alive, but under Mateo’s gaze, it suddenly feels…
I don’t know. Wrong? His stare lingers too long, burning into me.
“What’s wrong?” The words tumble out before I even think. His eyes snap up to mine, dark and unreadable yet charged with something I’ve never seen before, something that coils low in my belly. I swallow hard. “I can change if this isn’t…appropriate.”
He says nothing. He just looks at me, the silence speaking louder than any other word. Fine. Noted. I spin on my heel toward the closet, but his hand catches my wrist.
“Daisy.”
The single word makes my pulse stutter. When I turn, he’s closer than I expected, his black linen pants hanging low on his hips, his shirt open just enough to reveal the gleam of the small gold chain he never takes off. God help me, it’s unfair how good he looks. My mouth goes dry.
“Daisy,” he whispers again, and my name has never sounded edged with hunger before.
“Wh—what?” My voice cracks, and his smirk tells me he noticed. “Why are you so smug?” I ask.
“You were checking me out.”
“I was not!” My protest comes out too loud, too fast. My cheeks blaze with heat, and his smirk widens. Busted.
“It’s okay, Daisy girl. You don’t look so bad yourself.” His voice softens, laced with something intimate, maybe even passionate. “Don’t change. You look beautiful.”
The sincerity in his tone sinks into me like warm tea after a long day of work. Mateo never shies away from giving compliments, but this one feels different—playful, yes, but also, I don’t know…sexy?
“Daisy girl?” I echo. It’s the second time he’s used it, and, God help me, I want to hear it again.
“Trying to find something else to call you,” he says, stepping closer, his presence erasing the space between us. “You didn’t like it when I called you baby earlier. You froze. I want to be respectful.”
Always so considerate. Too considerate.
“It just caught me off guard, that’s all.” Of course he just wants to make it seem real. He’s not actually thinking about me in that manner.
“What did?” His voice is quiet now. He’s too close, and I have to tip my head back just to meet his eyes.
His cologne wraps around me, a dizzying scent.
There’s something about, I don’t know, pretending we’re together, him looking like this, my real feelings for him enhancing absolutely everything to the point of delusion.
“You calling me baby.” The words scrape from my throat, broken and almost needy. Damn it, Daisy, get it together.
He lifts a hand, and I stop breathing. His fingers graze my cheek before tracing slowly over my lips, lingering there, teasing the corner of my mouth before pulling away. The loss is instant, leaving me agonizingly cold after warming me with just that single touch.
“Sorry,” he murmurs. “Reflex. You had lipstick there.”
“Oh.” I touch the spot where his thumb was, where his touch still burns phantom-hot. My heart is racing, but I shake it off and breathe. Breathe, Daisy. Breathe. You have to. “Sorry. Are we ready?”
“Yeah, but…we need to talk. We need some ground rules. I don’t know what I’m allowed to do with this. With us.”
“What do you mean?”
“In this fake relationship…” His eyes lock on mine, searching.
“I don’t know where the line is. What I can do and what I shouldn’t.
I touched you so much earlier; is that okay?
Like…what is actually allowed here?” I’m so glad he noticed how much he touched me.
I was spiraling the entire time, but damn if I didn’t like it.
He probably had to force it. He probably needs to know ahead of time if he needs to touch me because it won’t come natural to him, no matter how much it seems like it is.
His eyes show me so much concern. Concern and love. I know he loves me. He always has. As his best friend. The love one has for a sibling.
“Rule number one: don’t lie to me.” Come on, Daisy. You can do this. Keep your feelings inside and set strict rules to protect yourself.
“Rule number two: No matter what, we’re still best friends. Rule number three…we listen to each other.” I smile with my eyes at him. I need him to know I’ll be here no matter what, that I’m still his best friend.
“You know me. I know you. I trust you won’t push me somewhere I don’t want to go. And I won’t either. Deal?”
I can’t tell him oh yeah and one final rule: I won’t tell you how much I love you, how much I wish I was the woman for you.
I can’t have a talk with him right now about whether he should or shouldn’t kiss me.
All I would want to tell him is to please not kiss me so my poor heart doesn’t break more from the unrequited love.
At least these ground rules seem straight forward; we don’t have to add any more.
He studies me for far too long, but he finally nods once. “Deal.”