Promise Me Nothing (Hermosa Beach Book 1)

by Jillian Liota

  “Sorry about that,” he says to me, taking another step closer and crossing his arms, emphasizing his muscles and a tattoo that peeks out from under his right sleeve. He looks me up and down, seduction evident in his eyes. “So. Harbor’s? I’d love to take you for drinks.”

  I smile, though the joy in my expression has diminished slightly. In the last two minutes, something changed. We went from playful banter to… something else entirely. It felt like we were chatting before. Like we were friends who knew each other in some way. And now?

  Now it feels like I’m a conquest. And that’s not the side of things I want to be on.

  “Unfortunately I have plans tonight with my brother.”

  “Ah, come on,” he says, giving me that charming smile that probably gets him out of, or in to, anything. “You were about to say yes just a second ago.”

  I lift a shoulder. “Sorry. I really do have plans. Have a nice day with your sister.”

  His smile remains, though I can tell he’s legitimately confused, trying to figure out what just happened. My guess is that he doesn’t get turned down very often.

  “Bye, Pier Guy,” I add, then I walk past him and head down the street and towards Paige’s car, not looking back even though I really want to.

  When I finally get there, I find her sitting in the driver’s seat, her eyes glued to her phone.

  “Sorry it took so long,” I say, opening the passenger door and climbing in to her periwinkle blue Camaro.

  Paige glances at me. “Honey, I was so focused on this game I didn’t even realize where I was.”

  We both break into laughter, allowing me to push away how talking with Pier Guy made me feel.

  As Paige pulls away from the curb and we roll down Hermosa Ave, I glance towards Mary’s. Pier Guy is still standing outside, his sister sitting next to him.

  They’re laughing, but I see his head come up and look in my direction.

  I look away quickly and we continue down the road.

  I thought for a second that I’d met a guy who might be worth the time to talk to. Someone who might be interested in chatting with me, too, and not just for the possibility to get into my pants later.

  But he turned out to be just like most of the guys I’ve met before. Flirtatious and focused just on what he can get.

  And right now, someone like that just isn’t for me.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Hannah

  “No one will even notice.”

  Lucas’ words have me wanting to roll my eyes. But I don’t. Because that would probably be rude.

  We pulled up to the Hermosa Beach Yacht Club earlier, and when I slid out of Lucas’ car – a BMW instead of the truck, because apparently it’s normal for people to have multiple cars – I swear it was like something out of a James Bond movie. Expensive cars. Women in sexy dresses and men in suits. Valet parking.

  And there was a damn red carpet leading inside. Though, thankfully, no photographers. Not that they’d want to catch me on film as I totter into the building on a pair of slightly-too-small heels. But based on the way Paige was going on about Lucas, they might want to get a picture of him for the gossip pages of something.

  Paige gave me this really beautiful dress to wear, and I really do love it. It’s a deep green with lace sleeves and an open back. The problem is that Paige is at least six inches shorter than I am. At Lucas’ house, while I was getting ready, I’d worried the dress was too short, so I put on a pair of nylons that Paige had given me just in case.

  But of course, because I’m fucking stretch Armstrong and have legs a mile long, I tore a hole in them as I was getting out of Lucas’ fancy ass car. A long stretch down the back of my left leg.

  Even though I’m not typically one to worry about how I look, I know that Lucas matters here, and the last thing I want is for the cogs of the Hermosa Beach gossip machine to start talking about his trashy sister.

  I’d pushed back my shoulders and held my head high, determined not to allow myself to feel like I didn’t belong. Though I didn’t entirely appreciate the looks I was getting from a few of the men who were old enough to be my dad.

  It wasn’t until we were through the front doors that I tugged Lucas to the side and had a meltdown about the tear.

  “Of course people will notice,” I hiss at Lucas. Then I feel bad for being snippy. But what does he expect? I come from nothing and now I’m here at this black tie event and I feel like a fucking mess. I sigh and wring my hands together. “I’m gonna go take them off in the bathroom.”

  Lucas steps forward and rests his hands on each of my biceps. “Hannah,” he says, his voice quiet and calm. “Take a deep breath.”

  I do. A really deep one. And then I hold it, let it out slowly.

  “Good. Now, don’t freak out about what anyone here thinks about you. It doesn’t matter if they like your dress or think you look like trash because of a tear in your leggings.”

  “Nylons.”

  “Same thing.”

  I laugh, a small one, just barely a breath that comes out of my nose, but it’s still a much needed break from the tension that filled me a second ago.

  “You’re my sister, and I’m glad you’re here with me.” He squeezes my arms. “What other people think doesn’t matter.”

  I glance around the lobby, watching people chit chat in little groups while others head into the main dining room. I let out another long breath, then look back at Lucas.

  “I’m okay. I’ll come find you once I take this piece of shit off.”

  Lucas smiles. “Awesome.”

  Then he turns and heads inside the main dining room.

  I head towards the women’s bathroom in the corner, hoping to make my way in and out as quickly as possible.

  Unfortunately, that just isn’t in the plans.

  “Are you here with Lucas Pearson?”

  I turn my head and spot a tall, lanky brunette heading my way. What is it with everyone around here being so damn beautiful? It’s really annoying.

  But I smile and nod my head, continuing my movements towards the bathroom. If she wants to talk to me, she can do it through a toilet stall.

  “I didn’t realize he was dating someone,” she says. “I mean, someone other than Remmy.”

  There’s a barb in her words that gives me pause, and I turn to look at her more closely, wondering what kind of point she’s trying to make.

  But then I realize that it doesn’t matter what point she’s making. I really shouldn’t care.

  “We’re not dating,” I tell her, placing my hand on the door to the restroom and pushing through.

  I almost want to laugh when I see it. Of course, the bathroom looks like something you’d see in a Kardashian house. A huge open space with carpet and couches and big mirrors. At least a half dozen women are staring at themselves, making adjustments to their makeup. It’s like the high school girls’ bathroom, but for adults.

  I don’t realize the brunette has followed me in until I hear her speak from behind me, her words sharp and loud.

  “So you’re just fucking him, then?”

  At that my back shoots straight and I turn to look at her. She stands with her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

  “Excuse me?” I feel like I can’t have heard her correctly.

  Like, who says that? What world does she live in where it’s okay to say something like that?

  “There’s a pretty long line of people who are waiting for a shot at Lucas Pearson,” she says. “I don’t know who you are, but I’d consider yourself lucky for even being on his arm tonight. Just don’t forget that you’re as expendable as the rest of them.”

  A burst of uncomfortable laughter comes barreling out of my mouth. It’s something slightly hysterical, since I literally cannot fucking believe she just said that.

  “I can’t even… I don’t even know how to respond to that,” I finally say, just gaping at her as she continues to give me elevator eyes.

  Finally, I spin a
way and head towards the individual bathrooms, but not before catching side-eye from a few of the women lined up at the mirrors.

  Once I make it into a stall, I take a second to brace against the door. I stare at the floor as I try to process what she just said.

  What a bitch.

  I mean, seriously. Who says shit like that? I thought I’d watched enough Gossip Girl and The O.C. to prepare myself for the cattiness of rich people, but holy cow was I wrong.

  Finally, I push it aside and slip off my shoes and make quick work of yanking off the stupid nylons that were clearly a mistake to put on in the first place. Then I step back into the high heels that are just barely a size too small, wincing only slightly, and head back to the main bathroom area.

  Dropping the nylons in the trash, I don’t even glance at anyone else before I return to the lobby. I don’t know who those women are, but I feel like it’s in my best interest to avoid them if they’re going to talk to me like that. Cattiness isn’t attractive.

  Yuck.

  I am beyond glad I get to walk away from whatever the hell that was.

  I walk through the lobby, which has emptied considerably since I went into the bathroom, as guests make their way to assigned tables. Slipping into the main dining area, I watch for Lucas while allowing my eyes to take in the room.

  I’ve never been in a yacht club before, but something tells me this one is pretty fancy. I always pictured them being more like a dive bar that just happens to be connected to docks with boats on them.

  But this place? This looks like a resort. Or at least, what I imagine a resort would look like based on all of the commercials that air in Phoenix about the fancy places to stay in the area.

  The room is a large circle with high ceilings and massive windows overlooking the marina outside. There are several dozen round tops covered in fine cloth and set for eight with a million knives and forks that I’m going to need to ask Lucas for help with. A small jazz band plays to the left of a stage, where a podium is set up in front of the windows.

  It almost feels like dining in a fish bowl.

  My eyes are still searching for Lucas when they connect with a pair of beautiful browns that I can’t believe I’m seeing here.

  His mouth drops open, mirroring mine. But where I stand still, shocked, Pier Guy moves quickly, heading in my direction.

  “Okay seriously, are you stalking me?” I ask, laughing awkwardly. “Because I thought you were joking earlier.”

  He shakes his head, that charming smile coming back to play. “I wish I was,” he says, his eyes raking me up and down in disbelief, clearly as surprised to see me as I am to see him. “My mother is a member and I’m escorting her and my sister tonight.”

  The way he says escorting makes me take notice of something I hadn’t seen before.

  When I met him last night, he was wearing a biker jacket and dusty boots. This morning he was in jeans and a Henley. He’d looked like just a regular guy you could meet anywhere.

  Standing in front of me now, he’s wearing a suit. One that fits his body perfectly. His hair, where it was slightly shaggy this morning, now sits tucked back under product. A flashy watch rests on his left wrist.

  Pier Guy is a money guy. Part of the world Lucas inhabits. If I had to wager a guess, I’d bet they might even know each other. And for some reason, that disappoints me.

  I nod slowly. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around this evening, then.”

  When I start to walk away, he moves to grasp my wrist.

  I spin quickly and yank my hand out of his reach. It always saddens me, how quickly I’ve learned to side-step a man’s touch. The knee-jerk reaction is fairly normal for me. But I guess that just comes with the territory.

  He lifts both hands up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” He lets out an awkward laugh, drops one hand and rubs his face with the other. “I thought you were joking this morning. About the harassment. But were you serious? I’m not trying to bother you, I swear.”

  I shake my head. “No, I’m sorry. I just…” I glance away, not finishing my sentence. I wring my hands together, my body feeling uncooperative. How do you explain to someone that your reactions are based on something that has nothing to do with them?

  “Look,” he says, stepping closer. “I don’t know you. I don’t even know your name. But I do know that since we met yesterday, you’ve been on my mind constantly. And it felt like seeing you again this morning, and now a third time, here of all places… I don’t know.” He tucks his hands in his pockets, and the move strikes me as somewhat submissive. Something that Pier Guy isn’t used to being. “But if you want me to, I’ll leave you alone.”

  “No, don’t…” I clear my throat, embarrassed that I responded so quickly, a flush creeping up my neck. Then, with a soft laugh, I say, “I mean, you don’t have to leave me alone.”

  He smiles at me, and this one is tender. So different than the wolfish ones he’s been giving me so far.

  Maybe he was right this morning. Maybe it is kismet or a meet-cute or whatever else fate has in store for us.

  Pier Guy really is incredibly handsome, and when he looks at me the way he is right now, there’s this weird feeling in my chest that I can’t quite place. A pulsing, beating thing, like my heart is pumping too quickly.

  Maybe I misjudged him earlier.

  It’s the one thing I don’t want anyone here to do with me… assume. And I’m guilty of it first.

  Before we say anything else, his sister… Ivy? …approaches us and taps Pier Guy’s arm.

  It’s almost time to sit. You coming? she asks.

  He looks at me, then down at her, looking conflicted. Even though I’d like to keep talking to him, I also remember her comment this morning about wanting to spend time with her brother.

  I’m heading to my own table, I sign. I’ll see you later.

  His eyebrows raise, but I look away and turn to Ivy.

  You look beautiful in that dress, by the way. Blue is a great color on you.

  A split second of shock makes way for a smile to break out on her face.

  Then I turn to the handsome man to my left. “See you later, Pier Guy.” I give them both a wave, and wander off in search of Lucas.

  And then, I can’t help it. I glance back over my shoulder, and a thrill runs through me when I catch him watching me as I leave, his eyes on me with laser focus. I grin, then turn away, allowing myself to get lost in the crowd.

  Hopefully we’ll get a chance to talk again soon.

  And if that does happen, I’ll try not to run off again.

  Weaving through the crowd, I finally find Lucas at the bar talking to… I want to laugh. He’s talking to the aggressive brunette from the bathroom.

  I let out a sigh. It feels like every part of being here so far has been about maneuvering land mines. So fucking exhausting. But I suck in a breath, then let it out slowly, and head in his direction, keeping a smile on my face.

  “There she is,” he says, reaching out and pulling me closer. “Hannah, I want you to meet Adrina. Her mother is a friend of my mother’s.”

  Adrina lets out a laugh, a nasally thing that sounds a lot different than her voice from earlier. “Oh, Lucas. We’re so much closer than that, wouldn’t you say?” Then she looks at me. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. Grew up doing so much together.”

  I smile, though I’m sure it doesn’t reach my eyes. “How fun for you.”

  “Adrina, this is my sister Hannah. She’s living with me for the summer.”

  Her slightly bitchy expression pales, morphing into one that speaks much more of discomfort.

  I feel just a little bit evil watching it happen, unable to help but enjoying her unease. “Adrina and I already met, actually. In the bathroom. She was really sweet. Helped me get rid of those horrible nylons.”

  Adrina laughs, high pitched and strangled.

  “Ready to go sit?” I ask Lucas, giving his thigh a pinch. “Because I’d love to find our ta
ble.”

  Lucas winces and rubs the spot on his leg, but stands, grabbing his drink off the bar. “Adrina, good to see you.”

  She nods, then scurries off.

  A part of me feels bad, knowing that I just did something kind of manipulative and mean. But the other part of me still remembers the way she looked at me like I was pond scum. So I focus on that to assuage my guilt.

  When I turn back to glare at Lucas, he chuckles. “I feel like there’s a story you should tell me.”

  I nod. “Don’t worry. I will. But let’s go sit first. These heels are a bitch.”

  "It doesn’t surprise me.”

  “Well it surprised me,” I reply, spooning the last bit of soup into my mouth. “Who talks like that?”

  Lucas rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his whiskey. “Adrina thinks she lives in a soap opera. And I’ll be honest, she kind of does. Her mother is friends with a few other Hermosa ‘socialites’,” he says, using air quotes. “I personally don’t put a whole lot of stock in it, but they certainly do.”

  “So there isn’t a long line of women just waiting to jump into your bed?” I tease, giving him a cheeky smile.

  Normally, I probably wouldn’t ask a question like that. But I’m feeling pretty good after having had two full glasses of the most delicious wine I’ve ever had. I think Lucas said it was a Syrah.

  He chuckles and does a weird little shrug that makes me think it’s actually true. “I mean…” he trails off, a smile on his face.

  “Oh my god, it’s true. What she said is actually true?” Then I scrunch my face up. “Yuck. I don’t wanna know that.”

  He adjusts the napkin resting on his knee and lifts his drink to his lips again. “Well don’t ask questions to which you don’t want the answer,” he murmurs, then tips the glass back and finishes the last bits of amber liquid.

  Having come from a life of financial struggle, I’ve never been a big drinker. There just isn’t really a chance to spend money on stuff like that when I’m trying to make rent and survive on coupon food from the clearance section of the grocery store.