A Promise Made (Promise #2)

by Anissa Garcia

  The girls continued their discussion about their planned trip, and a solace began to flood over me. The feelings weren’t of jealousy; I was truly happy for my friends. Grace had Evan, Jaime had her husband Dean and their six-year-old son, Jake. Part of me was wondering when my time was coming, if it was at all. I never needed someone to feel complete, but a partner I truly connected with was something I longed for, wanted, craved. I’d tried, but to no avail, I always ended up choosing wrong. I had lost my faith.

  “What about you and Josh, Marla? You sure you don’t want to join in? I’m sure he’d be up for it.”

  Grace had taken me out of my little pity party for one, and I flinched inwardly as I wiped my hands on the napkin, my burger abandoned. “No. Stop trying to force us together, missy.”

  Her shoulders hunched up to her ears and her innocent expression reeked of bullshit. “I’m not doing anything. Although, I still don’t know why you won’t give him a chance. He’s not Aiden.”

  That comment earned a snort from me as I played with a fry. “Okay, look who’s talking. Up until a few months ago you wouldn’t give Mr. Hollywood a chance, despite all our protests.”

  Jaime intervened, finishing off her milkshake. “And look how great it ended up for her. I wouldn’t doubt Evan proposes any day now.”

  A piercing laugh exited my own throat at Grace’s deer-in-headlights look. “Don’t scare her, Jaime. She’s not ready for that.”

  “I-I-I’m not scared. I just, uh, don’t think…I mean, we haven’t discussed the situation, and we just started dating not that long ago. I don’t know if it’s, well, wise to think along those lines.” Grace fumbled as she finished her burger. She was deluding herself. She was so in love with Evan, I knew she would say yes the moment he asked, whenever he did.

  “Don’t be a chicken-shit, Grace Matthews—I mean, Grace Clark,” Jaime teased, trying to freak her friend out more. I only laughed as Grace stuck the middle finger out to her. I think she was beginning to pick up some of Evan’s bad habits.

  “Anyway, I was just saying that Josh is a nice guy. He wouldn’t be Evan’s and Zach’s close friend if he wasn’t. And Evan mentioned to me that Josh’s been burned before. Pretty badly too.”

  My ears perked up at Grace’s gossip, although it felt wrong to ask for more information. Jaime didn’t care as she leaned forward, her hazel eyes widening with wonder. “Ooh, intriguing. What happened?”

  Grace shook her head and stood, grabbing the leather handbag she had made herself. Yes, Grace was a crafty, creative, Renaissance woman, and the essence of a true artist. She flipped her dark wavy hair over her shoulder as Jaime and I followed suit, rising from our chairs. “I don’t know, he just said he’s had it tough.”

  We walked into the bright Texas sun, the warm weather heating our cool skin. The smells of Home Slice wafted from across the street as we strolled toward our vehicles. We said our goodbye to Jaime, as her car was parked behind the building, and Grace and I continued the path to our own vehicles. “How did your self-defense class with Josh go, by the way?”

  I rolled my eyes as we passed the Hey, Cupcake trailer. My mouth watered, but thoughts about sparring with Josh later that evening brought a tickle to my tummy and subdued my craving for a chocolate cupcake with cream cheese frosting. “It’s happening tonight.”

  “Oh, well, that’s good. I’m glad he’s helping you.”

  “Enough about him. What about you, Grace? How’s the book coming along?” She had written a memoir about her life, and it was bought for a pretty penny. She was hesitant about publishing it, as the contents involved family tragedy, but it had turned out well so far. The buzz for it was circulating, especially after word got out that Evan wanted to make it into a film.

  “Good. Evan and I are talking to agents and the studio. We’re looking for the right screenwriter.”

  I could tell she was excited about it. I was happy that things were going well for her. “And Atlanta? That’s still on?”

  She nodded her head as we approached her new Audi Sedan, a purchase that was definitely required. The Honda Accord she had owned was an eye sore, not to mention problematic. “We leave at the end of May, I think. They’re having some issues with pre-production, so it may be pushed back a few months.”

  “Well, let me know if you guys want to hang out tomorrow or before going on your little excursion to Fredericksburg,” I said, as I dug into my purse searching for my keys. Those things always seemed to have a mind of their own. Funny though, I could’ve sworn they were in the side zipper.

  “Evan and I are flying to L.A. He has some meetings set up, and I’m going to visit my folks. I think he’s got a day for Disneyland planned, too,” she chuckled. Evan was a Disney fan.

  “Alright, I’ll see you when you get back,” I gave an unconvincing smile as Grace tugged me into a tight embrace.

  When she parted from me, the look on her face showed that I wasn’t fooling her. “You look like crap, Marla. Get some rest, and don’t stress out over work too much, okay?”

  “Got it.”

  Now if only I could follow Grace’s advice, that would be awesome.

  The smell of stale sweat clung in the air as I followed Josh inside the dark gym. He moved toward the wall, switching on florescent lights that made the place jump to life. A large ring covered the far end of the building. Punching bags, mats, and boxing gear filled the rest of the space.

  “Nobody’s here.”

  The echo of my voice made me uneasy as I strolled forward, following him over toward the matted floor. Josh turned to me, nodding his head as he began to move more mats and set up our own area. “They close after two o’clock. I have a deal with the owner to train some actors here after hours.”

  “What do you train?”

  “Kickboxing, Muay Thai, self-defense.” He bent down, fixing the mats to fit perfectly into position.

  I gulped as he approached me. Only now was I beginning to understand the skill this man possessed. This man was accomplished, trained others to be experts, and it wasn’t just about him being selfish or just self-serving. He was teaching people something important. My gaze moved over his chest, and his strength made me weak in the knees. The plain gray shirt he wore plastered to his body, showcasing every single ripple of muscle. I wanted to run my fingers and hands all over every dip and wave, and lick my way from his navel down.

  “Let’s get started then,” he whispered. He grabbed my arm and turned me with a gentle touch that made me shiver. The palm of his hand flattened over the small of my back as he led me to the center of the floor, and my breath caught in my throat.

  I closed my eyes, coming to terms with my emotions that were turning raw. My traumatic experience in being mugged last week hadn’t hit me until now. I felt vulnerable as I realized what a man with ten times my strength could have actually done to me. On top of that, Aiden came to mind, and his action led me to leave, yes, but at the same time I hadn’t necessarily taken it upon myself to learn self-defense. Josh, Evan, and Grace had been so right. I needed to know this. I could have died.

  My breathing sped up significantly, but it wasn’t until I felt the warm tickling of his voice over the shell of my ear, did I feel my heart race. Both of Josh’s hands held my waist as he roughly whispered, “Marla, breathe in deeply, and out slowly. We’re in an open space, it’s daylight out. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  The tension in my shoulders lessened as I twisted back to look at him. His eyes had turned from icy to dark. His voice stayed as soft as a feather. “Now, in order for me to train you there has to be trust, and I need you to feel comfortable.”

  He revolved my body to face his. Large hands cupped my jaw. I couldn’t grasp the concept of what he was asking while he caressed me. “Marla.” I could feel the heat radiate from our closeness, see the pulse in his neck, and smell the scent of his soap, but my brain couldn’t get my mouth to move. “Marla, I’m going to teach you some very basic rules every woman should know to pr
otect herself. If you’re uncomfortable with any of these techniques…if you have any issues with me touching you, speak up.”

  I blinked as he backed away, the loss of his hands from my face disappointing me. I wanted more—those hands, that face, his body, all over me and I wanted it now. “N-No…” I croaked, my mouth having gone dry. “No issues. You can touch me.” At that point, I wanted to insist upon it.

  A glimmer of amusement played over his lips. “Okay, first off, be aware of your surroundings.” He wrapped one hand around his knuckles and stood with his legs apart, standing confident and fierce. “Don’t be on your cell phone, looking down at it texting while sauntering to your car, understand?”

  Was I a child? I felt like one because I stayed silent and gave a quick nod as he continued. “A potential attacker loves the element of surprise. Don’t be fuddling about, looking for your keys in your bloody bag. Get them out beforehand, set the main key between your pointer and middle finger to use as a weapon, in case you do get held down. That end can be jammed up under the attacker’s jaw to the soft fleshy part of the throat.”

  I grimaced at the thought of attacking someone in that way. “Can’t I just use the seduction technique? I think I like that better.” I chuckled, but it quickly trickled down to silence as his face stayed stern. I cleared my throat. “Okay, so key under throat.”

  “Think hard to soft. Your heels of your hands, knees, elbows, and heels can all be used against your assailant’s vulnerable areas—eyes, nose, throat, groin, stomach, and feet. Aim for the attacker’s vision, breathing, and limbs.”

  By this time, he was pacing, and he was on a roll. I raised my hand and he halted, looking at me as if I was foolish. “You don’t have to raise your hand.”

  I lowered it and shrugged. “Didn’t know how else to stop you.”

  “Okay, what’s your question?” He crossed his large forearms and I stared, then trailed up his chest, then his wide neck, then those eyes that gave a very serious gaze.

  “Are you going to teach me something I don’t already know?”

  He broke his austere countenance and laughed, shaking his head and approaching me. “Okay then, Red, tell me what you know, and I’ll teach you what you don’t.”

  “So, I know the palm-heel strike to the nose. You curl your fingers in to protect them and hit the nose or the chin.” I showcased my hand in the proper position and recreated the movements in slow motion as he nodded. “And I know the knee kick, obviously. And the foot stomp does work on occasion, but…what if…”

  I could feel my heart palpitating, my breathing increase, and uneasiness prickle forth. His brow creased as he waited for me to finish my sentence. “What if someone was trying to rape me? Like, what if he had me pinned on the ground and was on top of me? How could I possibly get out of that situation?”

  His expression softened, as did the sound of his voice as he let out an unsteady breath. “I’ll show you one technique you could use; God forbid you were ever in the situation.” My apprehensive expression was apparently evident because he hesitated as he got close and roamed my face with concern. “Have you ever been in that situation, love?”

  My heart felt as if it had plummeted to my stomach, his sincerity flooring me. “No, no I haven’t.”

  A sigh of relief exited him and his hand reached forward for only a moment to tap my chin. “Good.” A smile formed as he pointed to the floor. “Okay, lay down. I’ll have to show you step-by-step what to do.”

  Butterflies fluttered inside me as I complied easily with what he said. I wanted to contest, and tell him I wouldn’t do as he said only to be difficult, but the real reason was because I was terrified of the way he was making me feel.

  My back was against the ground and he crouched on his knees beside me. “We’re going to have to reenact this, and like I said, if you have a problem with any part of it, stop me immediately.”

  “Okay,” I whimpered looking up at him, his face hovering above mine. His hand reached over to my legs, motioning me to open them. He took his position between me, his arms propping him up as his face remained free of emotion.

  My heart rate climbed significantly as I felt his crotch lean right up against mine. Holy shit, the fabric between us was way too thin, and I could feel every single inch of him. I bit my bottom lip as his eyes met mine. “You haven’t even taken me out to dinner yet, and I’m already under you.”

  I laughed at my own joke, not because I thought I was hilarious, but because he was making me edgy. He was unyielding in his visage, so serious and intimidating. “Wrap your legs around me tightly.” He grabbed at my thighs and hoisted my legs up higher. “Lock your ankles at my back.”

  I easily obeyed, and my body shuddered against him as he clenched my arm and wrapped it around his neck. “Closeness at this point will be your friend. One arm will be around my neck and the other at my arm.” He buried his face at my shoulder and instead of scaring me the way it should have, I found it hot, sexy, and a turn on. I could feel him all over me the way I had pictured, and felt like this whole situation was a bit fucked up. I was supposed to be fighting an attacker, not thinking about the ways I wanted him to ravish me.

  “Now, I want your hand that’s holding my arm to reach toward the hem of my shirt and lift it up toward my neck. Understand?”

  Oh, I understood. He was asking me to undress him, and this was supposed to be self-defense? “Um, how is this going to protect me?”

  “Trust me.” He glanced up at me, our bodies tangled like a pretzel. “Gather the shirt at my neck, get a good grip on it at the collar while still trying to pin down my arm with your elbow. Now, the arm around my neck, move it in front of me, and palm up, hook it inside the shirt collar next to where you gathered the other hand and switch it off with your thumb down, crossing your arms in front of you, but next to my neck.”

  He guided me toward each step, showing me how to choke him, put my foot on his hip, keep my face close to his neck so he couldn’t use his hands to punch me, and then eventually pull myself away. We tried the move several times. At first slow, as he walked me through each step, reminding me of how easy it could be for him to pull away and win. My moves were shaky, but with each go I found myself getting more confident.

  After at least half an hour practicing the routine over and over, I finally got it down. We tried one last go and instead of pushing away I stayed in place, feeling his humid breath on my neck as I held him down. He pulled away to look at me, his pupils dilating as his body wriggled on top of me. “You aren’t towing through this one, Red. What’s wrong?”

  We both paused, our breathing labored. I licked my lips, loosened my grip on his shirt as my eyes hooded with lust. I could feel his body twitch against me, and I whimpered as my hips instinctively lifted, rubbing against him with the sweetest ache. His skin was hot to the touch, and I was drowning in a sea of dark blue.

  The sweetest groan from him made me senseless as it rang in my ears. His fingertips trailed my lips as he rested on top of me, the both of us locked in each other’s embrace. Foreheads touching, we were so close, extremely close, to achieving a goal I never knew I had wanted so badly. Our lips hadn’t even glazed over each other when he inhaled and lifted himself off of my body with a jolt.

  He cleared his throat as he shifted his shirt down, trying to smooth it over his chest. “That’s enough for today. We can continue this another time.”

  Embarrassment flooded over me at the rejection I felt as he lifted the mats and began to put them back into place. What had happened? Had I read all the signs wrong? I closed my eyes as humiliation coursed through me. He moved toward me and put out his hand as I tried to lift myself up from the floor. Instead of taking it, however, I ignored him and walked toward the door as he finished the task.

  I stood with my arms crossed, wishing to God I had brought my own vehicle. I picked at my cuticles as I waited for him to finish. I couldn’t get myself to look at him. When he approached, he attempted to open the door,
but I beat him to the punch and hurried to his Jeep Wrangler. How had I misread this whole thing? He had only been trying to teach me, was trying to be helpful, and there I was hitting on him. Maybe I was too stubborn. I was told by Aiden that it was an unattractive trait. Crap, I was going back to him, letting him in my head again, taking away the power I had worked so hard to achieve. This was why I should’ve stayed away from him. He was a bad idea from the start.

  Our drive was quiet and uncomfortable until I finally got home and rushed to my door. “Marla?”

  I didn’t turn around to look at him, but stayed still. “What?”

  “Are you alright?”

  “Fine.”

  “I’ll call you for our next lesson.”

  “I learned all I needed,” I muttered, walking into my house and slamming the door shut, tears wanting to escape. Fuck. Josh McKenzie had gotten to me, and I was once again disappointed with the outcome of this whole situation. I needed to be strong. I didn’t need anyone but myself, and it would serve me well to remember it.

  I needed a beer. Tensions had been reined in tightly during and after my training session with the woman who was beginning to drive me so mad with longing I was ready to crush the water glass I held in my hand. Pale flesh hued with rosy cheeks popped into mind, as did those tight nipples that perked from Marla’s training tank top she wore. I’d been having fantasies since then what color they were, what size, and more importantly, how they would feel against my tongue.

  We had been so turned on by each other, and I craved her the way a dog craves its meal. I wanted to lick her, taste her, lap up every ounce of passion that seeped through her pores, but I had stopped what had been in motion. Why? Because she deserved better than to be kissed on a dingy, dirty gym floor. It had been two weeks since then, and that was two weeks too long.