Breaking All the Rules by Abi Walters Page A

so eager for him. She was drunk on his kisses. He whispered a string of words into her ear as he nibbled on it. It sounded foreign to her, the way his sweet nothings hit her core. They were attached to one another the entire drive to Mia’s apartment. Benson’s hands never strayed from under her shirt. It was such an un-Benson thing to do that when the limo lingered at her door, she pulled back with a rugged breath and looked at him hard.
                  He was still as glossy as he was when they’d first gotten into the car, just as hardened and distant as he was for the tail end of their evening. When he wasn’t pressed into her like she gave him the air he needed to survive, Benson was as cold as stone. He wasn’t the same man that nibbled on her ear and made her heart swell with promises moments earlier. Abruptly, she drew back and grabbed her purse, trying to bypass him to get out of the limo.
                  Benson didn’t stop her.

Chapter Five
                  Tuesday was a blur. Much like the Monday before, Mia refused getting out of bed until the last possible minute. She had quarantined herself in her bed with a never-ending loop of depressing songs playing from her laptop.
    Music had always been there for Mia. It helped her through her father’s death and the blur of the few years that followed. The scene swallowed her whole. Life faded away when she was packed tightly in a dirty basement or club, exchanging sweat with everyone around her as they thrashed to the raw music on stage. She’d run away and follow local bands on tour, doing whatever she could to stay out of her step-father’s house. The police always found her. They always took her back to the shell despite her desperate pleas. She could never tell them why just that she couldn’t . She ran one too many times and ended up in a mental rehabilitation center for an entire summer. Nearly ten years later she wasn’t sure what was worse, the abuse at home or the truths she faced at the facility.
                  Despite running frequently during her teenage years, she managed to keep steady grades. She wasn’t a perfect student. She was too busy hiding from her life around her to strive for the control she needed. By some stroke of magic she stayed still long enough to not stir any trouble and get accepted to NYU. New York was the musical release she needed. Every night a new club, a new band. She fell in to the scene, and Aaron Hart, fast and hard.
                  It took a slap in the face and the hand of a friend to help her climb out of the hole she’d so willingly crawled into. She’d almost gone straight from Aaron to Grant. Grant had helped her flourish. He helped her move on, just to break her in the end. And through all of it she had music. For Mia, there was a playlist for every emotion, mood, and event. Music was her crutch. That is why she was ruthless in the industry. She needed music just as much as it needed her.
                  So when it occasionally kept her up hours past her bedtime so she could cry her soul onto a pillow that still faintly smelled of Benson, Mia let it. Tuesday she skipped the makeup, not caring about anything but crawling back into bed at the end of the day. She donned another pair of black slacks and a plain black blouse with a white peter pan collar. Her hair was still wet when she left for work.
                  Her breath caught when the sleek Bentley SUV was waiting for her on the curb. She graciously took the car, hoping Benson would be waiting inside. He wasn’t. She could find no trace of him inside the luxury vehicle. The car was there again after work, and again, Mia accepted hoping he’d be waiting like he had the day before. She was met with silence and an empty vessel. Her ride home was full of shifting emotions. Benson captivated her and then set her aside until he couldn’t stand it any longer. He cared for her