Keep This Promise

by Willow Winters

  This surprise date was killing me. I had butterflies in my belly.

  Strolling through the tree-lined neighborhood a block from the McKennas’ rented Spanish Revival house, I wondered if we had much farther to walk. I’d worn heels and wasn’t used to walking in them. I threaded my arm through Jamie’s and snuggled closer. He smelled like lime and tangerine from his shower wash. “I’m nervous.”

  “Don’t be.” He pressed a sweet kiss to my temple. “You’re going to love it.”

  “Why the surprise? Have I missed an anniversary or something?”

  Jamie’s smile tinged with sadness. “No, Doe. I just wanted to do something special for you. It’s been a rough few months.”

  He could say that again.

  The important factor in it all was that Skye was doing well. But after recovering from a heart attack at twenty-five years old, it didn’t take much convincing from the three of us for her to go to rehab. Jamie attempted to talk to her, to see why she’d turned to drugs and alcohol. He worried it was the pressure of taking care of him and Lorna at too young an age. Skye was adamant that wasn’t true. She said the drugs were just too readily available during a time when she felt stressed about finding stable work.

  Ironically, she got dropped from her current show because she had to go into rehab. Now that she was out, the last few weeks had been difficult. Her agent was struggling to find her work. Jamie had given up his car, and Lorna had agreed to trade hers in for something cheaper.

  While Skye reassured them she had savings, Jamie took over managing the household and budgeting their monthly expenses. He also got a job working on campus at a coffeehouse. His coach wasn’t too happy about it, but if he promised not to let it interfere with his training, the guy didn’t give him too much crap.

  Following in Jamie’s footsteps, I’d started taking on babysitting jobs. Between looking out for Skye, being with Jamie any minute we both had free, and schoolwork and babysitting, I had less time to think about the fact that school was not a great place to be.

  Lorna had frozen me out. She remained a popular girl jock, and I went back to being kind of anonymous. I kept texting Lorna, trying to get her to talk to me. Or at least to Jamie, whom she also wasn’t talking to. Jamie said I was just feeding Lorna’s need for attention, but I didn’t want my former best friend to feel like I’d taken her family from her. Still, she ignored me.

  There were kids at school I was friendly with, and I still got asked out occasionally, but as a not entirely social person, things were quiet at school. Lonely, even. Most days that was fine. But there were the days when Lorna’s so-called friends liked to make snide comments about me whenever I was in the vicinity.

  I didn’t tell Jamie. There was no point. He’d just get pissed at Lorna when she wasn’t the one saying anything. Whenever Jamie and I were together, I didn’t want to talk about his little sister.

  “We’re getting closer.” Jamie tugged on my hand as we rounded the corner and turned left onto North Brand Boulevard. We were in the hub of it all. Restaurants, shops, nightclubs and all.

  There was a lot going on here, so Jamie could be taking me anywhere. To dinner? Only fancy places required you to dress up, though, and I thought he was trying to watch what he spent.

  Crossing the street, hand tight around mine, I laughed under my breath. “Why does it have to be such a mystery where we’re going?”

  “Why not?” He grinned down at me. “Do you really hate surprises that much?”

  “Not when you’re giving them.” I knew everything I felt for him was probably beaming out of my eyes. “But with you, I’m impatient.”

  His ocean eyes turned a lagoon blue. They always did when something turned him on. “I like that I bring out your impatient side.”

  “You enjoy corrupting me,” I corrected him, teasing him.

  Yet I wasn’t sure it wasn’t true.

  “You’re right,” he agreed, sounding serious. “I like that with everyone else, you’re patient, you’re controlled, calm, you never raise your voice, you’d never hurt a soul … But with me”—he bent his head to whisper in my ear—“you cry, you yell, and you claw my back with your nails.”

  I flushed hot, but not from embarrassment.

  After the humiliating moment with Lorna when Jamie and I were almost about to have sex for the first time and she busted in on us, life had distracted us from our fast-moving relationship. Skye’s mental and physical well-being became our priority. There was a lot going on, and it made Jamie reevaluate. He was back to wanting to wait until I was eighteen before we had sex.

  I didn’t get it. We were doing everything else. What were a few months?

  Jamie McKenna had the ability to make me lose my ever-loving mind.

  His expression was smug as he pressed a hard kiss to my mouth.

  “Watch it,” a woman said as we almost walked right into her.

  I threw a “sorry” over my shoulder and Jamie chuckled, wrapping his arm around me as he guided me past more stores.

  I knew we were getting closer to wherever it was we were going when Jamie’s strides slowed.

  Then he stopped outside the Alex Theatre.

  “This is it?” I asked.

  He looked a little uncertain as he nodded.

  Glancing up at the marquee, I read the signage and understanding dawned.

  LOS ANGELES BALLET PRESENTS THE SLEEPING BEAUTY.

  The breath whooshed out of my body and emotion thickened my throat. My vision grew a little blurry.

  “I’ve still never been to the ballet.”

  “One day you will.”

  “Are those happy tears or did I fuck up?”

  Not caring where we were, I slid my arms around his neck, went up on my tiptoes, and crushed my lips against his. I poured every ounce of love and gratitude I could into that kiss, breathing my very life into it, my soul spilling into his.

  We were panting by the time I let him up for air.

  “I guess that’s a yes.” He squeezed my hips in his hands, searching my face. “You like?”

  “I love,” I whispered, brushing my mouth over his once more. “Jamie, no one has ever cared like you care. I love you so much.”

  He groaned and wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing his face into the crook of my neck as we hugged. After a minute, Jamie lifted his head, caressed my ear with his lips, and said, “There are no words for how much I love you, Jane Doe.”

  I’d always hated my name. For obvious reasons. Not anymore. Not the way Jamie said it.

  Grinning, I stared up at the marquee again. “I can’t believe you’re taking me to the ballet.” I side-eyed him. “You’re going to be so bored.”

  He took my hand and led me inside. “Bored with you is still my version of bliss, Doe.”

  I grinned so hard my cheeks hurt.

  After we’d handed over our tickets and were walking into the auditorium, Jamie started laughing.

  “What?”

  “You’re so fucking adorable.” He squeezed me into his side and kissed my temple again. “If I’d known it would make you this happy, I’d have done it sooner.”

  It wasn’t until we were settling into our seats that I realized how great they were. We were in the middle of the first row of the Alexander Terrace that hung over the orchestra section. We had a clear view all the way to the stage.

  “Jamie,” I whispered in his ear, “these tickets … the cost.”

  He pulled back at me and scowled. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

  “But—”

  “We’re not talking about it.”

  His snippy tone irritated me. “No need to snap.”

  Jamie’s answer was to kiss me. Hard, deep, his warm hand clasping my face as his tongue danced with mine. It was incredibly inappropriate in the theater and was one reason it made me so hot. I breathed a little hard as he finally let me up for air. His thumb pulled on my swollen lower lip. “Just let me do something nice for you.”

>   I narrowed my eyes. “You could just say that without getting me all turned on.”

  He threw his head back, his chuckle deep and amused. “Someone put you on this planet just to stroke my ego.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Just your ego?”

  “Thankfully, no.”

  We shared a knowing, heated smile that was interrupted by a couple who were trying to get past us to their seats.

  Twenty minutes later, the vibrations from the orchestra below tickled my feet. Goose bumps prickled my skin and I sat tense in my seat, fingers gripped to the arms of the theater chair as I strained to take in everything that happened on stage.

  Female dancers in traditional costume with stiff tutus and brocaded, sparkling corsets danced across the stage and into the arms of male dancers who had bodies like Roman sculptures. The dancers’ bodies were machines, honed and muscular, sleek and powerful, and they moved with such grace and elegance, emoting so much with a mere flourish of their arms.

  Memories assailed me. Ballet classes. Standing at the barre, learning how to turn my feet out. How to plié. My mom, Marissa, who was now just a shadowy impression in my memories, gushing over me after my first recital.

  The longing when I’d see advertisements for ballet or a little girl in a tutu going to class. The crushing envy I felt when I heard Keelie Meyers in seventh grade telling our whole class she was attending a ballet school in Paris during the summer.

  All of it had symbolized a life I’d wanted.

  A life that should have been mine.

  A life I hadn’t known how to let go of until Lorna McKenna hauled me into her world.

  Yet, it wasn’t until Jamie that I finally felt I’d found home. That I finally gave up longing for Margot Higgins and grew content with being Jane Doe. I could watch the stunning dancers tell a beautiful story, and it didn’t hurt anymore.

  I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt Jamie’s hand on my cheek. I turned to him in the theater’s dark as he caught one on his thumb, his frown severe.

  Grabbing his wrist, I pressed a kiss to his knuckles and smiled. “They’re good tears,” I whispered. I leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth. “Thank you.”

  Assured I was happy, he settled in his seat.

  I did the same, drawn back to the stage, where I fell in love all over again with ballet. It swept me up in the music and the feeling and the utter beauty of how many ways humans were capable of telling stories that enraptured.

  Jamie didn’t say a word as we left the theater ninety minutes later. His hand clenched mine tight, and I realized he was waiting for me to say something. Traffic sounded, laughter, music, lights flared from headlights, from streetlights, from neon signs hanging on buildings as we walked through the evening world that was Brand Boulevard.

  “Were you bored?” I asked.

  “I thought I would be. But I wasn’t. It was beautiful.”

  I loved that he could admit that. It’s his artist’s soul, I thought. “Maybe we can go again sometime?”

  “If it’ll make you happy, we’ll go anytime you want.”

  Hugging into him, I inhaled a deep breath and let it go. “It made me forget everything for a little while.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  The mood between us was somewhat intense as Jamie stopped at a taco place and got us a quick bite to eat. We ate as we walked back to his house, a silent agreement between us that we weren’t ready for the night to be over. Every inch of me vibrated as we strolled through Glendale. Now and then, he’d squeeze my hand, as if reassuring himself I was there. Or perhaps reassuring me that he felt what I felt.

  Something had cemented deep inside me as soon as I stood outside the Alex and realized what Jamie had done for me.

  I knew I loved him.

  But now I knew that he was so deeply, intrinsically a part of me, to lose him would be like someone tearing me in half. For someone who’d always been slightly detached, even from the people I cared about, this should have terrified me.

  Instead, I was electrified. And desperately wanting.

  I was done waiting to be with him.

  The house was empty when Jamie let us in. He called out anyway, double-checking, but there was no response. It was a Saturday night. Lorna would be out with the latest guy she was seeing, and Skye had left Jamie a note.

  “She’s with Sheridan.” He waved the note she’d left on the kitchen counter. Sheridan was an actress Skye had met through rehab. She was a little older and had been sober for seven years. She and Skye had bonded.

  “That’s good.” My voice was thick with need.

  Jamie eyed me. “What do you want to do?”

  Heart pounding, I gave him a loaded look as I walked past him and ascended the stairs.

  He didn’t say anything, but his footsteps soon sounded behind me.

  Once inside his room, I turned to him and shrugged off my light jacket. It pooled at my feet as I kicked off my heels. Jamie stepped inside, his eyes dropping to my thighs where I clutched the hem of my dress. He pushed the door shut without taking his attention off me.

  Shivering at the heat in those ocean eyes, I pulled the dress up and over my head and let it fall to the floor.

  “Jane …?”

  I unclipped my bra, and the straps slipped down my arms, the cups catching on my taut nipples before finding my dress on the floor. “I adore you, Jamie McKenna. And I don’t want to be with anyone but you. Ever.”

  His eyes were now vibrant with need as they devoured my body. His voice was hoarse. “You know I feel the same way.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?” I curled my fingers into the waistband of my cotton underwear and taking a deep breath, arms shaking—not with fear but with anticipation—I pushed them down until they dropped around my ankles.

  Jamie sucked in a harsh breath, his chest rising and falling a little faster as I stepped out of them.

  I shrugged a little, every inch of my naked body tingling, goose bumps prickling all over my skin. I was hot and shivery. My heart slammed hard in my chest. My palms felt clammy. “Jamie, I want you. And life is too damn short. We both know that. Tomorrow something might take me away from you, and I don’t want us to never have been together in every way we can be. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

  He seemed a little lost, dazed, as he drank me in from head to toe. Not that he hadn’t seen me naked. We’d fooled around naked before.

  But it felt like this was the first time.

  I could see his erection straining against the zipper of his suit pants, his hands flexed at his sides as if he was desperate to touch me. Cheeks flushed, breathing uneven, he looked up from gazing at my body. “I’m coming out of my skin. What are you doing to me?”

  He didn’t give me a chance to answer. He shrugged off his coat and crossed the distance between us, plucking at a few buttons on his shirt before hauling it up and over his head. Then his hands were clutching my face as he kissed me, deep and wet, his tongue licking hungrily at mine. The sensation of falling soon followed, the mattress depressing under our bodies, our lips losing contact as we bounced a little with the impact.

  I gasped as Jamie held himself up over me so as not to crush me and nudged his throbbing hardness between my legs. The fabric of his pants caused delicious friction against me. My hands slid over the smooth, steel sleekness of muscle on his back, my fingers bruising his skin as my hips rose to meet his thrusts.

  We’d done this before. Just last weekend after watching a movie on the couch, a movie we didn’t realize had a hot sex scene in it until it was too late, he’d pinned me to the sofa. To both our delights, we discovered that night I liked it when he held me down. Sex was the only time I enjoyed him being in total control. Determined not to go too far, though, we kept our clothes on, his thrusts hard between my legs, sweat glistening on his temple, as the friction pushed us to orgasm. We came hard.

  But I knew we were both still unsatisfied.

  I didn’t want that toni
ght. As good as it felt, I wanted more.

  I fumbled for the buttons above the zipper on his pants.

  When one of his hands covered mine, I feared he wanted to stop.

  He broke our kiss and pushed up off the bed, straddling me. Jamie held my gaze as he unbuttoned his pants, unzipped them, and stepped from the bed to shuck them off completely. Along with his boxer briefs.

  Jamie was impressive, to say the least.

  There was … girth.

  The tingling between my legs intensified, and slickness accompanied this familiar tugging flip in my lower belly.

  “Jamie,” I gasped, reaching for him.

  Instead of coming down over me, his features hardened. Gripping my hips in his strong hands, he yanked me toward him. His hands moved to the back of my thighs, fingers squeezing as he lifted my lower body off the bed and forced my legs wide.

  His head descended between them and then his mouth was on me.

  I was flooded with sensation as he licked and sucked at me. Pleasure coiled tightly, deep and low, the pressure building as I undulated against his tongue. The urge to throw back my head and descend into bliss was strong, but it was turning me on even more to watch him.

  I came on a scream, my body falling against the bed, my hips jerking with climax as Jamie lapped up my orgasm. At one point I was vaguely aware of Jamie leaving my body, of the crinkling sound of foil, as I melted into the mattress, my body pulsing.

  Then I was being lifted under the arms, maneuvered back up the bed, and I wrapped my legs around his hips as he fell over me, kissing me. I could taste myself on his tongue. He was hard and hot between my legs, a slight pressure against my wet.

  Jamie groaned, breaking the kiss, eyes on me as he pushed up onto his hands to brace himself over me. “Hold on,” he demanded hoarsely.

  I gripped his waist, my panting increasing with the anticipation. “Jamie.”

  He pushed against me, feeling impossibly big, and my fingernails dug into his skin. “Fuck.” His expression strained as he gently nudged in a little more.