Promise Me Nothing (Hermosa Beach Book 1)

by Jillian Liota

  He steps forward and puts his hands on my shoulders.

  “If you need to go, you can absolutely go. You can go to Phoenix and do whatever you want.” He gives me a gentle squeeze. “But I’m asking you to stay, so the people here can prove to you that you deserve a home and a place you feel happy. Because I believe that, for you? This is that place.”

  He hugs me, pulls me in close and wraps his arms around me. Unlike those first times when he hugged me after I moved here, it doesn’t feel uncomfortable or unwanted. I enjoy his affection, his brotherly love and care. And I wrap my arms around him, too.

  “I can’t make you listen to Wyatt or forgive him, or any of those things. Honestly? I don’t want to waste anything on trying to fix things between the two of you because I want to fix things between the two us.”

  I laugh a little bit.

  He pulls back and looks at me.

  “But I don’t think he wanted to hurt you. At all.”

  I nod, wipe a tear from my eye. “I know. And if I was in his shoes, I might have done the same thing. But it doesn’t take the hurt away to know that.”

  Lucas gives me a tight smile as I turn away from him and continue what I was doing before Ivy got here.

  Collecting my things to pack.

  As the clock gets closer and closer to our leave time for the bus station, I wonder where Wyatt is. Why he hasn’t shown up yet to collect Ivy, who still lies snoozing on the couch.

  Eventually, only twenty minutes before we’re supposed to leave, I see his car pull into the drive. I make sure to stay upstairs when he comes, though I know it’s the cowardly thing to do.

  I try to listen from upstairs as I hear Lucas and Wyatt murmuring about something, but I can’t make anything out.

  I let out a soft sigh, a mixture of sadness and relief, when I see Wyatt’s SUV pull out from where I watch at my bedroom window.

  Part of me wanted to be able to say goodbye, but I know it just would have resulted in more tears.

  A few minutes after he leaves there’s a knock on my door.

  “You ready to go?” Lucas asks.

  I nod, giving him a confident face that belies my true emotions.

  “Ready.”

  "Tell me this isn’t the end,” Lucas says, chucking my bag on the ground next to the bus that’s going to take me back to Phoenix. “Because I’m pretty sure you’re my family now. And family doesn’t get to ignore each other.”

  I laugh, give him a sad nod of my head. “I promise,” I say. “This isn’t the end.”

  He hugs me again. “I thought you don’t believe in promises. Why should I believe yours?”

  I pull back and look at him. “I don’t give ones I can’t keep.”

  He smiles, then backs up while I climb onto the bus.

  Moving between rows, I find a seat towards the back, hoping there might be some empties so I don’t have to deal with another chicken wing lady on a long trip.

  Settling in, I rest my backpack in my lap and unzip it to get out my book.

  My head jerks back when I see an envelope with my name on it stuffed in at the top.

  I glance out the window, finding Lucas still standing at the curb, his hands in his pockets, leaning against a pole. Just watching me.

  My eyes turn back to the envelope.

  I tear it open, pulling out a thick stack of pages folded together.

  The top one takes me by surprise.

  Hannah,

  I’m sad to hear you’re leaving. I had hoped we would get to spend more time together. But I’m sure you miss Phoenix. I care about you a lot, and I feel so thankful to have found a true friend.

  Happy travels.

  Love, Eleanor.

  My brow furrows.

  Eleanor?

  That’s so sweet, but how did she get this in my bag?

  I flip to the next page.

  Hannah Banana!

  When Lucas told me you were leaving, I had a meltdown.

  A full scale, heart attack over here.

  Not even kidding.

  Okay, maybe I’m kidding a little bit.

  But when I say I’m sad to see you go? That’s not a joke.

  You are such a wonderful person, and it was so great spending some time with you. I hope you come back soon so we can spend more brunchy mornings at Mary’s, and so I can keep dolling you up in my clothes because DAMN GIRL DO YOU HAVE SOME AMAZING LEGS.

  Okay. I love you. Please come back.

  Muah!

  Paige.

  I giggle at that one, but still feel confused.

  I flip through the stack, trying to understand where they came from. Eleanor, Paige, Ivy, Ben, Hamish… even Rebecka and Lennon. Letters from people who have nothing but kind words and praises and requests for me not to leave.

  And then I get to the back two. The two that I know instinctively are from Lucas and Wyatt.

  I read Lucas’ first.

  Hannah,

  There’s nothing I’ll be able to say in a letter that I haven’t either already said to your face, or that I’m planning to say to you before you go.

  You know how I feel.

  How much I want you to stay.

  But I’ll ask just one more time.

  Don’t go?

  Regardless of what happens, thank you for giving me the family I always wanted.

  Hopefully I can be a poor substitute for the one that you miss.

  Love you,

  And miss you already.

  Lucas.

  I shake my head with a grin, then glance back outside, expecting to see his cocky smirk and mischievous eyes staring back at me.

  But Lucas is nowhere to be found. My eyes scan the curb, try and look inside the station to see where he might have wandered off to.

  Nothing.

  My shoulders slump, and I look back to the papers in my hand, finally pulling Wyatt’s out.

  It’s much longer than the rest, his handwriting bold and masculine.

  Hannah,

  I’m not good with my words. Never have been. English was always my worst subject in school. I could never seem to say what I felt, the words always feeling like a messy jumble that I couldn’t organize correctly.

  So when Lucas told me that you’ve decided to leave, and that it’s happening in just a few hours, I really don’t know if there’s anything I put into words that would ever be convincing enough to get you to stay.

  But I think that’s my problem right there.

  I shouldn’t have to convince you.

  How I feel about you should be so evident in the way I talk to you, how I treat you, that there isn’t ever a need to convince you that it’s real.

  It should be something you know in your bones. Something you feel etched into your skin.

  That’s where I think so many people get love wrong. They believe love is a game to be played and won, like the other person is a pawn they need to move around in their own ideal world.

  I don’t see love as a game. But if I had to use the analogy, I simply need to communicate that you were never a pawn. You were a queen. The most important, the strongest, and the one with the most power. You are capable of anything.

  I won’t pretend like what I did was right, and I truly am sorry for how it hurt you. My focus was so entirely on Ivy, on what I could do for her, consequences be damned, that I never stopped to consider that someone else’s life was in the balance, too.

  Yours.

  So all I can do now is beg.

  Beg you to let me show you how much I love you.

  Beg you to allow me a chance to prove to you with my words and my actions and my heart and my mind and every resource in my arsenal that you are that queen.

  You are everything I’ve never known to hope for in this life.

  So please.

  I ask this without manipulation, without convincing… I ask this with nothing but love in my heart.

  Please stay.

  Stay so we can start over, start fresh, with no
thing but trust and honesty between us.

  Stay so I can show you how beautiful it can be when someone loves you the way you deserve.

  Stay so I can show you what it feels like when someone promises you everything. And follows through.

  I love you, Hannah.

  Wyatt

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Wyatt

  “I’m not even hungry,” I tell Lucas, plopping down in the chair next to his at our table at Bennie’s the next afternoon.

  Really, the fact that he was able to convince me to come out at all today is nothing short of impressive.

  I never heard from Hannah last night.

  I’d thought maybe I’d get a text, at least. Some sort of acknowledgment that she got the letters. But it was radio silence. I don’t think I’ve ever checked and rechecked my phone so many times. Making sure the sound was on, the vibration, the volume all the way to max.

  I was up all night, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, Ivy snuggled in at my side.

  She asked if she could stay with me last night and I couldn’t deny her. I can’t remember the last time she asked to have a sleepover. If I’m honest, it felt good to be needed. Even if it didn’t distract me completely from what was going on with Hannah, it gave me a reason not to break down into an emotional heap.

  I was up all night. And it wasn’t until I verified that Hannah’s bus arrived safely in Phoenix early this morning that I finally allowed myself to doze off.

  So now, even though I’m sitting at this table with the only other person who has a fraction of understanding about how I feel, I just wish I was still in bed.

  “And coming here is depressing,” I add. “I don’t even know how you talked me into this. After today, no more Bennie’s.”

  Lucas grins at me but just lifts his menu.

  Not sure yet if I’m going to eat, I tilt my face up and glare at the sun, feeling like the weather is betraying me.

  Where’s a foggy, depressing weekend afternoon when you need it, huh?

  Eventually he puts his menu down and glances around. “I’m surprised no one has come over to us yet. Normally they’re clamoring to serve our table.”

  I roll my eyes but say nothing, staring off into the distance instead.

  “The reason I dragged you out of your house is because you can’t just sit at home and wallow.”

  I glare at him. “That’s not what I was doing.”

  “You were in bed when I got there at noon. You were wallowing.”

  “I was sleeping. I was up most of the night.”

  “Wallowing.”

  “Cut the shit, Lucas.” Fuck if he doesn’t piss me off like nobody else that I know. I turn my head and look around. I do need that server. Time for a fucking scotch.

  Lucas lets out a sigh. “Look, as much as you don’t want to accept defeat, Hannah’s gone. You should just find someone else.”

  My mouth drops open and if I wasn’t so depressed, or if I didn’t care about going to prison, I’d pick up this butter knife and show him what’s what.

  She hasn’t even been gone for one day. It’s been like, twelve hours. Maybe less. And I’m already wondering what else I can do to prove to her that I meant what I said.

  And I did mean it.

  I shouldn’t have to convince her. My words aren’t going to do anything other than confuse her.

  It’s actions that she deserves.

  Actual steps that show her that everything I’ve said, everything that I’ve felt… that it’s real.

  “This isn’t about ‘accepting defeat,’” I say. “Hannah isn’t some game I’m trying to win.”

  He just raises an eyebrow and stays silent.

  “Do you seriously not believe me when I tell you how I feel about her? Because I’m not kidding. I don’t need you to tell me to move on. I need you to help me come up with a plan.”

  “A plan? What kind of plan?”

  I lean back in my chair. “Maybe I can move to Phoenix instead of London. Think Otto will go for a different location for Elite X’s new branch?”

  Lucas laughs. “Hardly.”

  “Hey, it could happen,” I retort, though I know it’s not even a long shot. An international branch doesn’t work if I live in the fucking desert. Or not internationally.

  The waitress finally shows up, a redhead I’ve never seen before, and my heart clenches when I realize she might be Hannah’s replacement.

  Lucas puts in an order for a sandwich and fries, and I order a scotch.

  “You don’t want to have a liquid lunch, Wyatt. Trust me.”

  I ignore him, sending the waitress off with a tight smile and orders to bring back a heavy pour of Glenlivet.

  I lean to the side in my chair, putting all my weight on one elbow and rubbing my face with my hand.

  “Be honest with me,” I say, watching him closely. “You saw her before she left.”

  He nods.

  “You think I stand a chance? That there’s any way I can get her back?”

  “Let me answer your question with a question,” he replies, and I purse my lips in irritation. He chuckles briefly, but his face sobers and he looks at me, earnest curiosity in his eyes. “Is there anything I could say that would convince you that you’re wasting your time?”

  I shake my head. “Never.”

  Lucas lifts a single shoulder, a pleased expression overtaking his face. “Then it doesn’t really matter what I think, huh?”

  I sigh, reaching into my pocket to pull out my phone when I feel a buzz.

  My eyes widen when I see Hannah’s name on the screen, and I answer it as quickly as possible.

  “Hello?”

  I stand quickly and step away from the table, leaving Lucas without explanation, not wanting to have a conversation with her in front of him.

  I don’t want him to see me beg.

  “Hey.”

  It’s the only thing she says. I can barely hear her, but just the sound of her voice has my heart thumping in an erratic beat that only she can seem to elicit.

  “Hey. Hold on one second, okay? I’m just… I’m at Bennie’s and I’m heading outside. It’s pretty noisy in here.”

  I rush down the stairs and into the main dining room, then towards the front doors, trying to find a place that’s quiet so I can really focus on her.

  I might also be buying myself a few minutes, trying to figure out what else I can say to her. Anything that will allow me to keep her on the phone as long as possible.

  When I finally get outside, I put the phone back to my ear and glance around. “Alright, I’m… are you still there?”

  “Yeah. I’m still here.”

  I nod, though she can’t see me. And without my planning, my feet start moving me towards the pier.

  “I wish you were here right now,” I say, wondering where she is instead. I’m assuming she went to her friend Sienna’s, but who knows what she decided to do. “And not just because I wish you were here with me. Though, obviously that’s true.” I chuckle. “It’s just… a really pretty day. Sunny and breezy. Though, I’ll be honest. With my mood, I feel like I could use a good thunderstorm over the ocean right now. Something big and loud so I can just be mellow dramatic and stare out a rainy window.”

  “You don’t strike me as the type to like storms,” she replies.

  “Normally I don’t. But today isn’t a normal day. It’s the first day you’re gone, and I feel like the universe should be commiserating with me.”

  There’s a pause.

  “Storms scare me,” she says.

  I nod, approaching the bench I sat at with Hannah just two months ago. “They can be scary. If you’re dealing with them alone. If all you can do is think about what could go wrong.”

  She stays silent, though I can hear her breathing.

  “But it feels pretty good to deal with a storm with someone you love. You snuggle up in front of a fire, have a few drinks. Maybe kiss in the rain.”

  “Sounds roman
tic, but unrealistic,” she replies, and there’s a thread of sadness in her tone. Something I wish I could extract, but I don’t seem to have the right tools.

  I take a seat on the bench and look out at all of the happy people on the sand, playing in the water, tanning in the sun.

  “It only sounds unrealistic because you’ve never gotten through a storm with someone by your side before,” I reply. “Someone to point out the beautiful sky afterwards. Or to hold your umbrella.”

  She laughs, a tiny little snicker, and it makes something swoop in my chest.

  “And you want to be that person?” she asks.

  “Absolutely.”

  My words come out like a whip, with a quickness even I wasn’t expecting. Because it’s true. I want to be by her side, facing any shit-storm life is going to throw our way… together.

  I feel someone take the seat next to me and I sigh inaudibly, turning to ask them to leave. The last thing I want is someone listening to me as I pour my heart out over the phone, during what might be my only chance to get her forgiveness.

  But when I turn, I nearly swallow my tongue.

  Sitting next to me, a soft, emotional expression on her face, is the beautiful blonde that I wondered if I’d ever see again.

  It’s Hannah.

  It’s Hannah?

  I blink, trying to figure out what’s going on.

  But at the same time, all I can do is focus on the fact that she’s here. Sitting next to me. Wearing a pair of yoga pants and a loose grey shirt, her hair up in a ponytail and a sweet smile on her face.

  She’s not in Phoenix.

  What is happening?

  I lift a hand and place it on her face, my thumb stroking her cheek in reverence as I try to convince myself that she’s really here. Right now. With me.

  “I thought you left.”