Promise Me Nothing (Hermosa Beach Book 1)

by Jillian Liota

  There’s a pause. Lucas lets out an irritated sigh. Paige sits quietly and watches me. And I feel like she’s waiting. Like she wants me to be curious enough to ask her what she’s talking about.

  And even though I don’t want to be the one who gives in to that type of gossip mentality, I feel like I need to know.

  Because secrets destroy.

  “What truth?” I finally ask, glancing between them.

  Paige smirks. “Your brother is as close to beach royalty as it gets, honey. The people here always want to know what’s going on with him. And as his sister – a sister nobody knew about – people are going to want information about you, too. So… get ready for a wild summer.”

  Lucas shakes his head, his expression pinched, but doesn’t add anything.

  Before I can ask any questions, the waitress shows up and takes a drink order from Paige. I decline, tapping my vodka soda to indicate I’m still good with my own.

  “What does that mean?” I ask once the waitress has taken off to the bar. “That he’s beach royalty?”

  “It means that everyone cares about what’s happening with Lucas Pearson. Where is he partying? Who is he sleeping with? Is he out surfing? Can he get me in to this club?” Paige rolls her eyes, then sits back in her chair, giving Lucas a look I don’t quite understand but rings loudly of frustration. “It really is incredibly irritating.”

  “She’s making it sound more intense than it is,” Lucas pipes in. “Really. No one cares about me.”

  “Bullshit!” Paige cries. “I’ve had two people text me about your sister since I found out about her thirty minutes ago. And that’s after the handful that checked in to see if you were having another party soon.”

  Lucas’ eyes lock with mine at the mention of partying, and I see a little bit of a smirk.

  “I knew you had a party house,” I say, though I make sure to keep a smile in my words. “That place is too amazing not to show it off all the time.”

  “Oh yeah, parties at Lucas’ house are like, infamous. Every weekend. The only reason he doesn’t get shut down by the cops is because his neighbors want to be invited to join in on the fun.”

  My stomach tilts slightly. I’ve lived in a party house before. Maybe not one as fancy as Lucas’, but I know what it’s like to have people coming and going at all hours. Loud music, drugs, wishing I could lock my bedroom door.

  I push that brief thought aside. Things are different now. I’m an adult. I can leave if I’m uncomfortable. I can’t dwell only on the negative, shitty things from the past, or I’ll never be able to move forward.

  Lucas shakes his head, glaring at Paige. “Thanks for giving it all away, P. I was trying to make myself sound like an upstanding citizen.”

  Paige scoffs and takes her drink from the returning waitress, lifting it to her lips and mumbling, “Like anyone would ever believe that.”

  “Not to be rude,” I say, looking to Lucas, “but why does anyone care what you do with your time?” My question seems stupid. Clearly there’s something about him that people want to understand, be near, know. But to me, he’s just a random guy I happen to be related to who has a nice house. Surely that can’t be the reason.

  Paige and Lucas glance at each other, and I get the feeling they’re doing some sort of communicating thing that I don’t understand.

  “You’re starting to freak me out,” I say.

  Paige violently shakes her head, bends forward and places her hand over mine on the table where I am nervously drumming my fingers. “No, there’s nothing to freak out about,” she says. “Lucas is just… kind of… well known?”

  I look back to him where he sits with an expression of extreme irritation.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m a surfer,” he finally says, glaring at his friend. “Jesus, Paige, quit it with the cloak and dagger shit. It isn’t that big of a deal.” Looking back at me, his expression smooths out and he repeats himself. “It isn’t that big of a deal. I’ve won a few titles.”

  “Nine of them,” Paige pipes in.

  “I don’t get noticed often.”

  “Uh, try everywhere we go.”

  “Tourists think it’s cool, but the locals don’t care.”

  “They literally consider you a hometown hero.”

  My eyes volley back and forth between the two of them. Their relationship, while confusing, kind of reminds me a little bit of what things were like with Joshua. Irritating but familiar. Argumentative but loving.

  Joshua might have been eight years older than me, but I used to sass around with him a lot. And he loved it. He always told me never to lose that spirit.

  I tried. I tried to stay myself when we went in to the system, but it really is a bitch that chews you up and spits you out. And when you come out, you just don’t look the same anymore.

  I miss that.

  Of course, I miss my brother, too.

  Every day I wish I could see him again. Talk to him. Get his opinion on things.

  But I also miss the other version of me.

  The one that wasn’t so afraid of things. The one that didn’t have to work so hard to believe promises. That never assumed the worst.

  She’s buried somewhere. Possibly dead. And I don’t know if she’ll ever resurface again.

  “So don’t be surprised if people recognize him,” Paige says, bringing me back to the table. She lifts her drink and takes a sip from the tiny black straw. “Most of the time it doesn’t matter. They’ll just say hi or whatever. Maybe ask for a picture. And the people who live local are mostly just looking for some kind of invite to something, so they’re never rude. But every once in a while you get the crazies.”

  I chuckle, then look at Lucas, who looks particularly uncomfortable. “So, can I Google you?”

  He rolls his eyes. “The only things you’ll find are lies. Just fair warning if you do it.”

  He’s trying to make it seem like it isn’t a big deal, but he’s failing. I don’t know why I can tell. Maybe it’s the new tension in his shoulders or the lack of honesty in the smile stretching tight on thin lips. Or maybe it’s simply that the mere idea of people starting to dig through my very lacking online presence has me feeling my own bit of discomfort. Regardless, I know the idea of me looking him up online makes him anxious.

  “Oh, I’d rather not,” I say, hoping to assuage any fears he might have. “I’d rather let you tell me what I need to know about you.”

  There’s a hint of surprise in his expression, though he wipes it clean as quickly as it appears.

  “Well, you’re definitely not from around here, then,” Paige says, giggling and taking another sip of her drink.

  Her words aren’t meant to wound. They’re flippant, said in the moment. And, honestly? Targeting something about myself that I don’t mind. The fact that I’m not a gossipmonger and I’m not obsessed with the internet.

  But I can’t help that something sour twists inside of me at her words. Because she’s pointing out a truth I don’t want to accept just yet. That this place, like every other, is just another where I don’t belong.

  “I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” I say, sliding out of my side of the booth. “Can you order me a burger or something when the waitress comes back?”

  Lucas nods, though his expression shifts to concerned. “Sure. Anything specific?”

  I shake my head. “No. I’m simple. Whatever is fine.”

  And then I head across the rooftop deck and down the stairs. I’d said I wanted to go to the bathroom so I could have a few moments to myself. But when I spot the exit sign in the corner, leading back out to Pier Ave, I book it in that direction, eager to get out of here, even if just for a few minutes.

  It’s nearly eight o’clock, but the promenade doesn’t look to be slowing down any time soon. I guess that isn’t surprising, being a Friday night in a beach city. Looking around, I try to find a place I can go to sit for a minute. And when I spot an open bench about a hundred yards down the Pie
r, I head in that direction.

  Maybe a moment watching the waves will soothe me.

  But just as I’m sitting down, someone else steps over to sit as well.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, you can sit here,” I say, internally kicking myself for always deferring to others.

  Especially when I get a look at the guy.

  Because, holy fucking wow.

  For a split second, all I can feel is my own heartbeat and the cadence of my irregular breathing as a flush stretches from somewhere low and rushes up across my chest and onto my neck and cheeks.

  There’s this poem I read in high school. I forget who it was written by. Someone famous. Someone forgettable, at least in my eyes. I’ve never been a big poetry buff.

  But I remember this one because it detailed the physical reaction of attraction as if it were a color highlighting different parts of the body. A neon rainbow that travelled from eyes to cheeks to neck, down the chest and lower.

  It was one of those things where everyone in class giggled the whole time, including me – especially me.

  But I remember thinking how embarrassing it would be, to have a physical reaction that spread around like a rash, highlighting how a person feels without their permission.

  Exactly the way I feel when our eyes connect.

  Like everything I’m feeling and thinking about him is scrolling across my forehead for everyone to see. I know I’m turning bright red and starting to sweat, so I barely hear his response, instead only registering his nod and choice to sit next to me on the bench.

  Of course, I leave my brother at a table and escape to a bench to think and sort through things in my mind alone, and the only thing I can focus on is the guy next to me.

  I peek over at him and find him looking out at the water. Yanking my eyes away, I do the same, taking quiet, slow breaths to calm myself down a bit.

  “You never forget how it smells, you know?”

  My whole body tenses when I realize he’s probably talking to me. I chance a glance in his direction again, and this time, he’s looking at me.

  He’s talking to me. I need to say something back. What did he ask me? Oh, right. The smell.

  I shake my head. “I wouldn’t know. Today is the first day I’ve ever seen the ocean.”

  He smiles, a slow sexy thing that transforms his face into something so charming and slightly devilish. I can tell almost instantly that he’s one of those men who gets away with a lot because of that smile. It’s mischievous, like he knows a secret and he just might be willing to share it with me if I play my cards right.

  Perfect for me. I suck at games.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who hasn’t seen the ocean before,” he says.

  I shrug. “Well, consider me the first.”

  Returning my eyes out to the stretch of sea, which is finally resting in darkness now that the sun has well and truly set, I try and think of something to say. But I can’t. My mind is blank. Empty.

  Normally, my mind is full of thoughts and words and opinions. I just never have the nerve to vocalize them. But right now? It’s just white noise.

  Luckily, my seat friend fills the void.

  “You’re not from around here, then.”

  I shake my head and laugh, trying to even visualize what it would be like to be from here. My skin would be a lot more tan, that’s for sure. “Definitely not. I’m just visiting family.” Then I muster the courage to look at him again. “You? Are you from here?”

  The stranger gives me that smile again. “Yeah. I am.”

  “Well, it’s beautiful. And you’re right about the smell. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget it.”

  He nods, lifts his arm so it rests on the back of the bench, his fingers resting just inches from where I’m sitting, and tilts his body towards mine.

  I’m shocked at how my body seems to want to mirror his, tilting just slightly to the side to face him a bit more.

  “I’ve been gone for a few years,” he says. “Even lived near the ocean, too. But there’s something about the way it smells here,” he says, shakes his head and looks back at the water. “It’s just different.”

  “It’s the smell of home,” I say, giving him a soft smile. “You can’t ever replace that.”

  It feels strange to give him an answer like that when I don’t have my own smell of home. But instinctively, I know what he’s talking about. I just wish I could find it for myself.

  We sit in silence for a few minutes, and I realize then that I’ve totally calmed down, for which I am incredibly thankful. The last thing I want is to be a sweaty, gaping mess right now, especially next to a guy who looks like he should be on a billboard somewhere selling you literally anything.

  I would totally buy it, too.

  “How long are you in town?” he asks, breaking me from my trance of staring at the water as it crashes against the shore and then rushes back out again.

  I shrug. “I’m not sure yet. Not long, though.”

  “Can I take you out?” he asks.

  I look to him so quickly I’m surprised I don’t give myself whiplash.

  “What?”

  “To grab a drink or something,” he adds.

  I’m already shaking my head. “Oh, that’s okay. Thanks for the offer though.”

  His brows twitch, as if my answer caught him off guard. There’s a long pause. “How about a coffee?”

  I shake my head again. “Thank you. But I’m just here to spend time with my brother.”

  At that same moment I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see Lucas’ name, along with a text asking if I’m okay.

  “Speak of the devil… look, I have to go.” I stand, only half looking at him again. Sometimes it’s just too hard to look at someone that gorgeous in the face. “Thanks for the chat, and for sharing the bench.”

  Then, before he can say anything else, I spin on my heel and power walk my butt back to Bennie’s.

  "Sorry,” I say when I finally slide back in to my seat across from Lucas and Paige. “I just needed some fresh air.”

  I realize how stupid it sounds. Especially since we are literally sitting on a rooftop deck, sucking in all the fresh air we could want. But it’s also true.

  “No worries. Just wondered what happened,” is all Lucas says, but he looks a little concerned.

  Paige, though, is focused on something on her phone. In fact, as her mouth drops open and her eyes grow wider, I wonder just how important it might actually be.

  “Holy. Shit,” Paige whispers, frantically responding to something. Then she looks at Lucas. “You’ll never believe who just got back in town. Even if I give you a thousand guesses, you wouldn’t get it.”

  Lucas rolls his eyes, clearly not as impressed with whatever this newest piece of gossip is.

  “The best thing I could possibly do right now is tell you that you’re not allowed to let me know who it is.”

  Paige smacks him in the chest, then returns to her texting, her thumbs flying across her screen without breaking stride. “Not funny.”

  Lucas rubs his chest, but smiles and reaches for his drink. “Alright, Paige. I’ll humor you. Who is back in town?”

  “Wyatt. Calloway.”

  At Paige’s admission, Lucas freezes, his glass nearly to his mouth but not there quite yet. Paige is looking at her phone, seemingly getting live updates while Lucas looks… well, I can’t really tell. But, definitely not as calm as he looked a moment ago.

  “I thought he was backpacking in Europe this summer,” Lucas finally says, then tips his drink back, finishing the last little bit in one swig.

  Paige shakes her head. “His dad said he wasn’t even coming home, that he’d just be leaving for London from San Francisco.”

  Lucas’ brow furrows. “Why were you talking with Calvin?”

  Paige shrugs. “I saw him at Penny’s gallery opening.” Then she rolls her eyes. “He was there with his child bride.”

  “Don’t
call her that.”

  “Wyatt calls her that.”

  “Wyatt does a lot of things he shouldn’t do.”

  “Well she’s twenty-two years old, Lucas. Mr. Calloway is forty-eight. It’s gross.”

  I lean forward and lower my voice. “I didn’t even know there were real people who do that. I always thought the mid-life crisis thing was a myth.”

  Lucas’ nostrils flare, but before he can say anything, Paige pipes in.

  “It’s not a myth. Actually, it’s far too common around here. When you live in a beach town, you keep getting older and the sexy girls on the beach stay the same age.” Paige makes a gagging noise. “Krissa, his new wife, is younger than both of his sons. That’s the part that grosses me out.”

  The server shows up then and drops off our food. My stomach pulls at me, reminding me that it has been a long day without much to eat. The burger looks amazing, and I don’t hesitate to pick it up and chomp right in, moaning at the delicious taste.

  “That is a really good burger,” I say, once I finally finish my first bite. I set it back on my plate and wipe my hands. “I haven’t had something that good in a while.”

  Lucas smiles. Paige eyes my burger with envy as she cuts up her fancy salad.

  “Speaking of the creepy Mr. Calloway, I can’t go with you to the Marina tomorrow night,” Paige says to Lucas. “But it probably works out, because now you can take Hannah.”

  Lucas slows his chewing and glances in my direction. “Do you want to go with me to a formal dinner tomorrow night at the Marina? There’s a charity auction, too.”

  I twist in my seat, feeling slightly uncomfortable. “You know, I don’t know if I’d really… fit. Fit in with everyone. You know? Besides, you saw my bag of stuff. It’s filled with jeans and shirts. I wouldn’t have anything to wear.”

  “I can totally let you borrow something of mine!” Paige says, her smile stretching from ear-to-ear.

  I let out an awkward laugh, not knowing how to even begin to react to the idea of that.

  “I don’t… uhm…” I stammer, not sure what to say. Part of me wants to go, to spend time with my brother. And the other part of me wonders if I’m just setting myself up for a really big fall.