The Dating Playbook Series Boxed Set Read online

  The Rules Boxed Set

  Mariah Dietz

  Contents

  Bending the Rules

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Breaking the Rules

  1. Raegan

  2. Lincoln

  3. Raegan

  4. Raegan

  5. Lincoln

  6. Raegan

  7. Lincoln

  8. Raegan

  9. Lincoln

  10. Raegan

  11. Raegan

  12. Lincoln

  13. Raegan

  14. Lincoln

  15. Raegan

  16. Lincoln

  17. Raegan

  18. Lincoln

  19. Raegan

  20. Lincoln

  21. Lincoln

  22. Raegan

  23. Lincoln

  24. Raegan

  25. Lincoln

  26. Raegan

  27. Lincoln

  28. Raegan

  29. Lincoln

  30. Raegan

  31. Lincoln

  32. Raegan

  33. Raegan

  34. Lincoln

  35. Raegan

  36. Lincoln

  37. Raegan

  38. Lincoln

  39. Raegan

  40. Lincoln

  41. Raegan

  Epilogue

  Defining the Rules

  1. Arlo

  2. Olivia

  3. Arlo

  4. Olivia

  5. Arlo

  6. Olivia

  7. Arlo

  8. Olivia

  9. Arlo

  10. Olivia

  11. Arlo

  12. Olivia

  13. Arlo

  14. Arlo

  15. Olivia

  16. Arlo

  17. Arlo

  18. Olivia

  19. Arlo

  20. Olivia

  21. Arlo

  22. Olivia

  23. Arlo

  24. Olivia

  25. Olivia

  26. Arlo

  27. Olivia

  28. Arlo

  29. Olivia

  30. Arlo

  31. Olivia

  32. Arlo

  33. Olivia

  34. Arlo

  35. Arlo

  36. Olivia

  37. Arlo

  38. Olivia

  39. Arlo

  Epilogue

  Exploring the Rules

  1. Chloe

  2. Tyler

  3. Chloe

  4. Tyler

  5. Tyler

  6. Chloe

  7. Tyler

  8. Chloe

  9. Tyler

  10. Chloe

  11. Tyler

  12. Chloe

  13. Tyler

  14. Chloe

  15. Chloe

  16. Tyler

  17. Chloe

  18. Tyler

  19. Tyler

  20. Chloe

  21. Tyler

  22. Chloe

  23. Tyler

  24. Chloe

  25. Tyler

  26. Chloe

  27. Tyler

  28. Chloe

  29. Tyler

  30. Chloe

  31. Chloe

  32. Chloe

  Epilogue

  Forgetting the Rules

  1. Rose

  2. Ian

  3. Ian

  4. Rose

  5. Ian

  6. Rose

  7. Ian

  8. Rose

  9. Ian

  10. Rose

  11. Ian

  12. Rose

  13. Ian

  14. Rose

  15. Ian

  16. Rose

  17. Ian

  18. Rose

  19. Ian

  20. Rose

  21. Rose

  22. Ian

  23. Rose

  24. Rose

  25. Ian

  26. Rose

  27. Rose

  28. Rose

  29. Rose

  Epilogue

  Writing the Rules

  Prologue

  1. Paxton

  2. Poppy

  3. Paxton

  4. Poppy

  5. Paxton

  6. Poppy

  7. Paxton

  8. Poppy

  9. Paxton

  10. Poppy

  11. Paxton

  12. Poppy

  13. Paxton

  14. Poppy

  15. Paxton

  16. Poppy

  17. Poppy

  18. Paxton

  19. Poppy

  20. Paxton

  21. Poppy

  22. Poppy

  23. Paxton

  24. Poppy

  25. Paxton

  26. Poppy

  27. Poppy

  28. Paxton

  29. Poppy

  30. Paxton

  31. Poppy

  32. Paxton

  33. Poppy

  34. Paxton

  Epilogue

  Missing the Rules

  Book 6.5 in The Dating Playbook Series

  1. Raegan

  2. Lincoln

  3. Raegan

  4. Lincoln

  5. Raegan

  6. Lincoln

  7. Lincoln

  8. Raegan

  9. Lincoln

  10. Raegan

  11. Lincoln

  12. Raegan

  13. Lincoln

  14. Raegan

  15. Lincoln

  16. Raegan

  Epilogue

  Deleted Scenes from Bending the Rules

  Exploring the Rules Bonus Scene

  Deleted Scene from Writing the Rules

  Lawson Family Pasta Primavera

  Poppy’s Chocolate, Marshmallow Cream Filled Cupcakes

  Stay Connected!

  Also by Mariah Dietz

  A Sneak Peek of Crash Course Coming March 2022

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Bending the Rules

  Book: 1

  1

  I’ve never considered myself much of a rule breaker. I’m not a follower or a leader. I’m just me, Raegan, queen of naps, lover of sweatpants, and obsessive reader. I’m simple, and I like simple. This is why I’ve constructed a set of rules to ensure that my freshman year of college goes smoothly and without any complications while I work toward earning my degree as a cetologist so I can get my dream job, studying whales and dolphins.

  The only problem is that my rules become difficult to remember when I hear his name.

  Everyone has one of these name hot buttons, I’m convinced. A combination of vowels and consonants that, when strung together and spoken, creates an entire web of memories and thoughts. For me, those letters spell Lincoln Beckett. And like trying to convince myself that the two
-year crush I’ve been harboring for him is over, I try to pretend his name doesn’t cast a spell over me. That I can hear his name and not work to listen to what news follows; after all, thinking about Lincoln is the very worst of bad ideas.

  Why?

  Simply put, there are at least ten rules against dating your brother’s best friend, beginning with the very fact that he’s your brother’s best friend. Secondly, he’s guaranteed to know way too much about your life, your family, and your brother’s illustrious decisions. The only thing that might be worse would be dating your best friend’s brother—thankfully, for me, my best friend’s brother is eleven.

  Therefore, universal laws, fate, karma, sibling code, and any other fictional or otherwise belief should ensure my brother’s best friend looks okay-ish at worst and troll-ish at best. This was my experience for the first sixteen years of my life. My brother, Paxton, is two years older than me, and his childhood best friend, Caleb, has a red Brillo Pad for hair, two-million freckles, and is so painfully awkward it’s endearing.

  Then, Paxton started at Brighton University in Seattle, Washington, where our dad is the Dean of Business, and he was quickly deemed a God because of his skills as a quarterback on the football field and became friends with Lincoln Beckett. Even at the early stages of their friendship, I wasn’t safe.

  Maybe it’s because I lied to my mom about the dent in the back of her car that actually did happen when I’d borrowed it and illegally drove my best friend, Poppy Anderson, to the mall. Maybe it was because I’d ditched school my junior year on a whim to protest illegal fishing without my parents knowing. Or, perhaps it was because fate had taken it easy on me for the first sixteen years of my life and decided I hadn’t shown enough appreciation. Because the day Paxton brought Lincoln Beckett over to our family’s house for the first time, fate began mocking me.

  Lincoln, AKA the President, was well over six feet with broad shoulders and corded biceps. That night when he walked into our house, his dark hair was mussed in the most mesmerizing way, and his dark eyes were intense and watchful as Pax introduced him to us. As though his shockingly good looks weren’t enough, Lincoln was also armed with a quick smile and sharp wit that made his brown eyes shine with humor. And the full maim came when he shared that he was studying history, with a focus on Ancient Rome, revealing he was more than a pretty face.

  Meeting him had me forgetting I’d been crushing on senior Michael Porter for three months—hell, it had me forgetting my own name.

  Paxton and Lincoln moved out together a month later. Though Pax returned home frequently for hot meals and to do his laundry, Lincoln rarely joined him, leaving me to lust after him by memory and the rare occasion I’d stop by the house the two of them rented along with Caleb and Arlo, another teammate.

  But, this year, things are going to change. Because this year, I’m a freshman at Brighton University, and gone are the days of me fantasizing about Lincoln Beckett, the starting wide receiver and highly acclaimed football player with a killer smile. The man who’s so frequently on the news that he’s amassed zillions of fans and admirers, my parents included. This year, I’m sticking to the rules.

  “Maybe I should have worn the pink shirt.” Poppy tugs on her pale blue blouse for the tenth time.

  “This is awkward,” I say, ignoring her comment because I’ve already assured my best friend that she looks great a hundred times to no avail. It's obviously not my validation she’s seeking. “We’re so early.” Poppy’s my number one reason for attending Brighton, a university acclaimed for its football and its law programs. It’s prestigious and expensive and thankfully has a robust marine biology program for me to earn my cetology degree.

  “People hang out all the time.” Poppy looks around at the other students as though to prove her point. “Do you think any members of the rugby team will be in our classes?”

  “The rugby team?”

  Poppy grins, tucking her copper-red hair behind one ear. “I told you, if you want to get over Lincoln, the rugby team is going to be your ticket. One look at Blaine Campbell or Nick Carrol, and you're going to be like Lincoln who?”

  I laugh. “You've already memorized their names?”

  “Trust me, once you see these guys, you won’t even remember Lincoln.”

  I stare at her for a moment, waiting for sense to catch up to my best friend.

  “We now have the entire University at our fingertips.” She flexes her fingers, her hot pink polish shining in the bright morning sunlight. “This year is going to be epic.”

  I don't voice my doubts. I don’t want to have them. I want to believe that my crush on Lincoln will soon be filed away as an embarrassing memory.

  We pass a few guys who turn as we walk by. One whistles and makes a comment about about our backsides. The other asks for our phone numbers.

  I scrunch my nose. This may be harder than I expected.

  Poppy and I stop near the Pratt Building, where my first class is. “You remember where you’re going?” I ask her.

  She nods. “I’ll text you when my class is over, and we can go to lunch.”

  Before I can respond, someone slides their arm around my shoulders. “What's up, ladies?” My brother’s roommate from New Jersey and fellow teammate, Arlo Kostas, bestows a grin upon us.

  “Are all guys creeps?” I ask, ducking out from under the weight of his arm.

  “Us? Creeps?” Arlo laughs. “Hold up, Pax and the Pres are behind me. They're just chasing a skirt. Fresh meat on campus.” He whoops.

  My heart stutters—a standard reaction to hearing his name. I turn, trying to catch sight of them, working to remain calm. Then, I straighten, remembering my rules.

  “Don’t make me kill you, Kostas.” Pax appears with Lincoln at his side, pulling my attention like a magnet.

  “My hands remained out of the end zone at all times.” Arlo raises his large hands as though to prove a point.

  “Paws off,” Paxton declares. “Otherwise, you're going to be trying to catch the ball with your teeth this season.”

  “Man, you're going to have your work cut out for you,” Arlo says, smiling. “Freshmen are the flames, and we’re the moths. You know how it works.”

  Pax shakes his head. “Poppy and Raegan are off-limits. You guys hear anyone on the team or anyone else saying something, you kick their ass.” Pax’s blue eyes that match mine in both shape and color peer around us.

  “Easy, caveman. Remember, you've evolved a few hundred centuries, so lower your stick. Also, we’ll kick your ass if you meddle with who we date.”

  Pax throws his arm over my shoulder, hooking my neck with his elbow, so he has me in what likely looks like a loose headlock. It’s something he's done since we were young. “Don't get all huffy. Trust me, you aren’t interested in anyone on the team. They’re all just looking to get laid.”

  I shrug. “Maybe we are, too?”

  Arlo cheers again to push Pax off the thin ledge his sanity was stacked upon.