Stone Promises (A Stone Brothers Novel)

by Samantha Christy

  “And what about the others?” I ask, as long as he’s given me carte blanche. “Heather Crawford and Ana Garner? That Tanya woman said you have a history of dating your leading women.”

  “You saw the show, huh? I was wondering if you did. I didn’t want to say anything to freak you out and send you running for the hills so soon.”

  “I saw it.” I don’t tell him that Kendra was the one who told me about it and that I had to search my TV for past episodes until I found it.

  He holds up two fingers. “Twice I’ve dated a leading lady. Not every time like she made it out to be. I dated Heather way back when. Then there was Courtney. It was bullshit what Tanya said about Ana. Ana and I are friends, but we never dated.” He chews on his lip in thought. “I took Lila Knox out for dinner a few times, she had a supporting role on Malibu. Other than that, I’ve dated some random women. Would you like me to compile a list?”

  “I’m not sure we could come up with enough paper,” I joke.

  His hand covers his heart. “Ouch, Mal. That hurt. In any case, that falls under the ‘shit from the past’ category, okay? That’s not me anymore.”

  “Not anymore, huh?” I ask skeptically. “Then tell me, who is the last woman you slept with and when?”

  His jaw drops at my temerity.

  “You said open book, Chad.”

  I can see he’s at war with himself on how to answer the question. Oh, God, please don’t let it be this week. I take a very large sip of my champagne, draining the glass.

  “That I did. Okay then, it was late last year. Her name was Nikki and she’s the daughter of one of the Blind Shot producers. She lives here in New York, so anytime I was here last fall, she would be my date. We hooked up a few times but it was casual. Courtney was my last relationship.”

  He refills my glass for the third time. “Do I get to ask you the same question?”

  My answer comes quickly. “No.”

  He frowns and looks at the table. “Please don’t tell me it was this week, Mal.”

  I can’t help but smile that his words matched my very thoughts. I laugh. “No, not this week. So far removed from this week it’s downright embarrassing.”

  Now he’s the one smiling. Smiling a little too big if you ask me. But it doesn’t last long as his face turns somber and he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure I want the answer to this, but was Julian your first?”

  I look down at the table, not very fond of remembering that low time in my life. “No. Julian and I never—”

  “Wait,” he interrupts. “Never? You dated for a year and you never . . . not once?”

  I shake my head. “It’s complicated. And you don’t have to look so darn happy about it.”

  “Never,” he whispers under his breath, looking at me in disbelief as the smile returns to his face.

  “What about you?” I ask, not missing an opportunity to quid pro quo. “Who was your first?”

  He closes his eyes and shakes his head. When he opens them, he looks directly at me, holding my stare with his like a tractor beam. I fear he’s going to tell me something I don’t want to hear because I see so much truth behind those blue eyes. He reaches over and puts his hand on top of mine. “Someone who should have been you.”

  For the third time tonight, his words slay me and all I can do is stare at him. Take in his golden-blonde hair that is longer than he kept it when we were younger. Take in his handsome face that has grown more manly over the years. Take in his hand on top of mine and the intense feelings plowing through my body from his simple touch. And I realize in this moment that even though my mind is telling me it’s a bad idea—even though my heart may never survive another beating from him—even though all odds are against us, I know that I want this man more than I’ve ever wanted anything. And right here, right now, I decide that yes, maybe the boy I grew up with is worth everything I’ve endured and everything I’ll have to go through to get him. I blink, sending tears rolling down my cheeks.

  He reads my bleeding eyes. He knows every thought that crosses behind them. He always has. He moves his chair closer to mine and wipes away my tears. “Mallory, I want this. I want to give this a chance. More than anything. But being with me comes at a price. One you might not want to pay. I need you to understand what you are in for.”

  I nod, sniffing back more tears. “I know, Kendra told me.”

  “She what?” he raises his voice, clearly upset by the revelation.

  “She came to see me yesterday.” Chad looks like he might blow a gasket so I quickly add, “Don’t be mad. She’s the reason I’m here. I wasn’t going to see you again, but she reminded me about all of your good qualities. I really like her.”

  “I’m going to double her salary,” he jokes. “Seriously though, Kendra is great at what she does, but there is only so much she can bury. Eventually, this will come out. And probably sooner rather than later.” He nods to the kitchen where servers have been peeking out at us all night. “See them? They could be taking pictures or video. Even with the non-disclosure agreements I had them sign, things always get leaked.”

  My jaw drops. “You had them sign non-disclosure agreements? Do you do that everywhere you go?”

  “No, but I needed to tonight. I had to do everything I could to make sure your face didn’t get plastered across every news magazine. Because that’s what will happen, Mal. And it won’t be long before they find out your name. And then after that, reporters and paparazzi might show up at your house or your school. A lot of people will be nice about it, but there are always those who will hate you for being with me.” He takes the last swig of his champagne, looking pained. “There are so many reasons why you shouldn’t want to be with me. And every one of them is valid. But I’m asking you to be with me anyway. I’m asking you to risk everything to see if we can get back what we once had and more.”

  I realize his hand hasn’t let go of mine, and now he’s threaded his fingers through my fingers. Our hands are entwined as if they were made to be this way. As if my hand was crafted solely and specifically to fit with his and no other.

  He gives my hand a squeeze. “What do you say, Mal? Are you willing to risk it? For me? For us?”

  His blue eyes sparkle as candlelight reflects off their glassy surface. He’s got tears in his eyes. Tears that mirror mine. He wants this as badly as I do. Maybe if we both want it so much, we can make it work. Even though everything is against us, maybe the ten years we spent together will trump the nine years we spent apart. Maybe the bond we made back then can’t be broken, just weakened. “I wasn’t,” I tell him. “I was ready to have you walk out of my life as quickly as you came back into it.”

  “And now?” he asks, hopefully.

  “You’ve been nothing but a gentleman, Chad. You’ve treated me like a queen, and I’m not talking about the money. I could care less about that, I hope you know that. I watched the person you became after you moved to L.A. and I see the person you are now—there is no comparison. I might be willing to give this a shot. But I can’t make any promises.”

  “Well, I can,” he says. “I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you, Mal. Including me. Especially me. Before, when I made you that promise, I was seven years old. I’m twenty-five now. My promises are worth more. The stakes are higher. And I’m telling you, you can count on me to be the best goddamn boyfriend anyone ever had.”

  Boyfriend. Chad Stone could be my boyfriend. Never in a million years did I think I’d be in this position. It’s surreal. I find myself wanting to call Mel and Julian and tell them about it. But after all that’s happened, I’m not sure they will support me; not Julian anyway. And then I think that maybe they won’t fit into Chad’s world. Would he expect me to choose his friends over mine? Would he expect me to give up all the things that make me who I am? He’s a superstar, of course he would. My heart falls into the pit of my stomach and I feel sick.

  “Mal? You’re starting to scare me.” He takes both of my hands in his. “If you h
ave any reservations, just tell me. If you agree to be my girlfriend, none of that other shit matters. The only things that matter are what you and I want. Everything else will work out. Believe me.”

  I nod reluctantly. “Okay,” I whisper.

  “Okay?” he practically yells, his eyes full of joy like a kid on Christmas morning.

  “Yes. Under one condition,” I say.

  “Anything,” he says. “You can have anything you want.”

  “I want you to meet with Julian.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chad

  I feel like I’m auditioning for a part. To be Mallory’s boyfriend. And it might just be the most important audition of my life. Her friends are everything to her. I know that from firsthand experience.

  I sit across the table from her two best friends. Melissa, whom I’ve just met; and the guy who was once my best friend. The third musketeer. My partner in crime during some damn good years. But now, it’s hard to see him as anything except the guy who stole my girl. Logically, I know that’s not true. In fact, I pretty much handed her to him on a silver fucking platter. But that doesn’t make it any easier to think of the two of them together. My only solace is he didn’t sleep with her. Thank God. I’m not sure I could sit here and play nice if he had.

  When Julian walked into the small private dining room at The Waldorf, we sized each other up. I half expected us to circle around each other and then pounce, fighting to the death to defend what we think is ours. Instead, we both pasted on smiles, shaking hands, unsure of the feelings we have for the brothers we once were.

  “What do you expect her to do when you leave?” Julian asks, pushing his salmon around on his plate. “Just sit back and watch as you parade around with other women?”

  “Of course not,” I say. “I’m not going to be with anyone else, Julian. I’ve made a commitment to Mallory.”

  He turns to her. “Do you really believe he’s going to forgo all of that for you? Have you not seen the news? Even since he’s been here. While he’s been seeing you this week—he’s still been seeing Courtney Benson.”

  “He’s not seeing her, Julian,” Mallory says. “They work together. They have to make appearances together. The press, the paparazzi, they twist things around to make it look like a more interesting story. And because they dated last year, there are a lot of old pictures that give the stories credibility.”

  I try not to look like I’m gloating as she defends me. But on the inside—there’s a party going on. And as the night progresses, I see her becoming more invested in this. In us.

  “And you’re okay with that?” he asks her. “With him traveling around the world doing God knows what with someone he used to go out with?”

  “How is that any fucking different than Mal being friends with you, Julian?” I ask. “The two of you go to dinner. You hang out all the time. Hell, she even crashes at your apartment sometimes.” I turn my attention to Mallory. “We will have to trust each other.”

  “So what, you’re going to swing into town when you need a booty call?” Julian asks. “What the hell is she supposed to do the rest of the time, sit here and wait until you decide it’s convenient to see her?”

  “Julian,” Melissa scolds him. “That’s not fair. It’s not like he can just give up his career or anything.”

  Melissa Connelly is Mal’s best friend from college. I invited her to join us because I need Mallory to see how I can fit into her life just as much as she can fit into mine. I know she’s expecting me to ask her to give things up for me. That couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m willing to do almost anything for her. “I’m not saying things will be perfect,” I tell them. “We have a lot to figure out. And, no, I’m not going to just blow into town when it’s convenient.” I give Julian a reprimanding stare. “I have commitments, schedules I have no control over, but outside of those, I’m free to go where I choose.”

  Julian keeps trying to pour me more wine. I’ve already had a glass and don’t intend on having more, but he doesn’t seem to take no for an answer. When he tries for the third time, I lose it. “What’s your problem, man? I said I don’t want any more.”

  “He’s a recovering addict, Julian,” Mallory reminds him. “Don’t push him. Please.”

  Julian holds up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “What happens when someone else does, Mallory?” he asks. “What happens when he has that second or third glass at a cast party? I mean, he shouldn’t be drinking at all.” He puts down the bottle and looks me in the eye. “You’re reckless. Mallory doesn’t need that in her life.”

  If it weren’t for the fact that I’m so fucking pissed at him, I might actually respect him. After all, he’s standing up for her. Making sure she’s safe. “Maybe I was reckless once, but I’m not anymore. That was a long time ago, Julian. I won’t make excuses for what I did back then. There are none. But it’s been three years since I was that person. I know you may not believe that because of how they make me look in the news, but it’s true. But you know what? You aren’t the one I need to convince of that. She is.”

  I want to reach over and take Mal’s hand. Put up a united front. Mark my goddamn territory. But I don’t. They have a history together, one I have to accept and respect.

  “Okay, boys,” Melissa says, trying to reign both of us in. “Can we all just agree that every relationship has its complications and yours won’t be any different? You guys will have to figure out a lot of stuff if you want to be together. But we certainly don’t need to hash it all out now.” She gives Julian a biting stare. “Do we, Julian?”

  He scoffs, shaking his head.

  “Has Mallory told you how we met?” Melissa asks me.

  “She just said you met at school.”

  She looks at Mallory. “Can I tell him?”

  Mal shrugs. “I guess. It won’t be the first embarrassing thing he learns about me.”

  “Wait,” I say. “This isn’t worse than when you went to the wrong house to babysit, is it?”

  Julian laughs. “Oh, my God, that was hilarious.” He turns to Melissa, telling the story. “Chad and I were at my house, which was down the street from the two of theirs. We were hanging out in my yard when Mallory walked down the street to the babysitting job her mom got for her. So she sees the kids out front and starts playing with them.”

  Mallory covers her eyes in embarrassment. It’s so damn cute. “She even picked up the smallest one, who was about four years old,” I say.

  “Oh, shit, yeah,” Julian says, shaking his head in amusement. “That was when the mom came out and started yelling at Mallory to put down her kid.”

  I start laughing at the memory. “Mallory was completely freaked out. After all, she thought that’s why she was there.”

  “Chad and I rushed over when we saw that something was wrong. It took a few minutes, but we were able to figure out she went to the wrong house. The mailboxes were next to each other and when she saw the kids out front, she just assumed that was the house.”

  “Hey,” Mallory interjects. “It wasn’t all that bad. Mrs. Jenner ended up hiring me to babysit those very kids. I made a lot of money that summer.”

  “That was a great summer,” I say.

  Julian nods. “It was, wasn’t it?”

  It was the last summer we all spent together. The next year, Julian spent the summer in Brazil so it was just Mal and me. And then I moved.

  The waiter comes to clear the table and show us the dessert tray. The girls fawn over the chocolate delicacies and decide to split one. I want to tell them it’s not necessary, but I don’t need another lecture from Julian about how I choose to spend my money. So what if I rented out the private dining room? I only did it to protect Mallory. He should be thanking me, not reprimanding me.

  “Okay, Melissa,” I say. “Let’s hear it. How did you two meet?”

  She looks excited, rubbing her hands together and then settling into her chair like this will be a long story. “Okay, so it was freshm
an year and Mallory was rushing a sorority, Delta—”

  “Wait.” I hold up my hand to stop Melissa as I turn to Mallory with wide eyes. “You rushed a sorority? You—the girl who organized a protest sophomore year when the student body president wanted to make every Friday spirit day. You didn’t want anyone telling you what to do or what to wear. That Mallory joined a sorority?”

  “Just let her finish the darn story,” Mallory says, rolling her eyes.

  “So she was a few weeks into the pledging process,” Melissa says. “Hazing wasn’t technically allowed, but they still got asked to do some pretty outrageous stuff. I found her standing in the middle of campus by herself, wearing a cheerleader’s outfit from a rival school. She was shouting that cheer ‘two, four, six, eight’ . . .”

  My brain is still stuck on Mallory in a cheerleader’s uniform. Holy God I’d like to see that. I glance at Mal to see her taking a large swallow of wine as she tries to hide her mortification.

  “She got heckled by students, of course,” Melissa says. “That was the point. To teach humility or some crap like that. But some of the students were downright mean, even when they knew she had to do it as part of pledging. By the time I came upon her, I guess she’d about had enough, because she ripped off her sweater and skirt, threw them down, stomping on them and then she marched over to some girls from her sorority that were videotaping her from behind a tree. She told them to take their sorority and go fuck themselves.”

  My jaw is almost on the table. “You stripped in the middle of campus?” Then it hits me. “Wait. You said fuck?”

  She laughs, shrugging innocently. “I had a tank top and shorts on underneath.”

  Melissa laughs. “Don’t let her fool you. She stripped. Her ‘tank top’ was a cami and her ‘shorts’ were those underwear things cheerleaders wear so you can’t see their crotches.”