For Now (Broken Promises #1)

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For Now (Broken Promises #1) Page 2

by M Dauphin


  “Lane you don’t—”

  “Shut up, Al. You’re not going home with this creeper. I’ll be there soon, just text me the address.” He hangs up immediately, leaving me dumbfounded.

  In all the years I’ve known him, I’m typically the one that comes to his rescue with his partners, not the other way around. I smile and, after sending him the address of the restaurant, I slide my phone back in my purse before making my way to the table. Steve is still perusing the menu and looks at me with worry.

  “Everything okay, my dear?” He reaches across the table and tries to take my hand, but I pull it back.

  “Sorry… I uh… My brother is coming to get me. I guess I caught something.” I cringe and I try to fake sick, and as far as I can tell, it’s working.

  “Oh ok. Well… I ordered you food, so I’ll have them box it up and bring it to you.” He smiles and I shake my head.

  “No, you really should stay away. I uh… I don’t want to make you sick.”

  “Oh… Ok.” Then he returns to looking at the menu like he’s trying to memorize it.

  That’s it. We sit here in awkward silence for the next half hour until Lane comes into the restaurant, turning all the women’s heads in the room.

  Great.

  “Baby, what the hell?” he pulls me up and wraps his arms around me.

  Baby?

  “I thought this was your brother?” Steve says, standing while he eyes Lane suspiciously.

  “Step-Brother,” Lane says, then he winks at Steve before twisting his fingers in mine, eliciting a feeling I’d rather not have for him. He then leans in and kisses me gently before pulling away. Holy Shit. Then he winks at me! What the hell!?

  “I uh… thanks Steve. I have to go,” I mumble, pulling Lane out of the restaurant. Once we finally make it to his Porsche I turn and glare at him, ready to slap him until I see the smirk on his face.

  “What the… why would you… I… AAGH!” I’m so flustered right now that about 80% of me wants to jump him in this parking lot and beg him to take me while the other 20% wants to scream at him for making a scene back there.

  He’s Lane Sheridan! He can’t do stuff like that without consequences!

  “Chill, Alexis,” he whispers then laughs at me. His hands stroke down my arms and he smiles his best friend smile that I’ve seen hundreds of times over the years. The smile that tells me he’d do anything for me.

  Well. Almost anything.

  “Lane, someone could have gotten that on camera. TMZ is going to have a hayday with that!”

  “Let them. They need to make money somehow. We know the truth, and that’s all that matters.” He winks at me and opens the door to let me in. I see something in his eyes tonight that hasn’t ever been there before though. Something sad, and it worries me.

  He lets me into the pristine car and I sigh as the leather wraps around me, hugging me in all the right spots. God… one day I’ll be able to own a car like this myself. One day. For now though, I’m doing something I love with my best friend. Sure, my apartment isn’t nearly as nice as his, and my clothes aren’t name brand, but I’m able to live downtown L.A., with no worries about bills or student loans thanks to Lane, so I can’t really complain.

  “Did you eat?” He glances over at me, hands tight on the steering wheel. Something’s on his mind. The entire time I’ve known Lane he’s been open with me about everything but this is different. He’s hiding something from me.

  “No,” I whisper, staring out my window, watching the city fly by. I want to reach over and take his hand to calm him but I don’t. Earlier today when he was in so much pain in the car and I crawled over to him… that was the most intimate we’ve ever been. Sure we touch all the time, but not like that. That was raw, and the look in his eyes when he practically pushed me off of him hurt. Bad.

  Without saying anything, he whips the car into the parking lot of a small hole-in-the-wall diner and grins at me as he opens his door.

  “What? We’re both hangry. Let’s go.” I raise my eyebrows at him and he laughs. “Al, it’s late, were both in a bad mood and hungry. Hangry. So… let’s get food before people realize I’m here and get out of here before the crowd.” His eyes are begging me not to put up a fight, and I am really freaking hungry.

  “Fine. But you’re buying.”

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He grins and helps me out of the car.

  Inside the diner, it’s dark and full of smoke. Literally, there’s a haze in the air from all of the smoke in the air. The coughing fit my first deep breath sends me into is enough to have Lane rolling in laughter and glares coming our way from the wait staff.

  “What century did we just walk in to?” I whisper as we take a seat in a back corner booth. “These women are wearing uniforms from the sixties and I didn’t even realize people still smoked cigars!” I laugh as Lane’s eyes peruse the outdated diner.

  “I always thought it’d be cool to own a place like this. Not high class, not too fancy for its own good. Just hometown, small, down to earth diner.” His voice sounds regretful, which worries me. Is he quitting modeling?

  Shit.

  “You know, you’re still young, Lane. You’re not even thirty yet. There’s still time to do this if it’s what you want.” Please don’t say you’re firing me and quitting modeling. Please tell me I’m nuts. Please don’t quit on me.

  He smiles at me and thinks for a moment then shakes his head and chuckles.

  “I’d fail miserably at this job, Al. You know I know nothing about making a cup of coffee.” He chuckles and a smile plays on my lips.

  “You know, if you quit modeling to do something like this, I’m going to be out of a job…” I trail off, watching him raise his eyebrows at me. His perfect eyebrows. Above those perfect baby blues. “I’ve been known to make a mean cup of coffee.” I grin and he laughs.

  “Yea… well that isn’t an option at this point.” He trails off and his eyes fall to my hands on the table. “I’m happy I didn’t go out tonight.”

  “Anything you wanna talk about?” I take the water the waitress brings us and squeeze my lemon in and stir, waiting for him to decide if he’s going to tell me or not. Eventually he will, but from the way he’s been acting today I can tell whatever it is, it’s fresh. I’ve known him for long enough to know he sometimes needs time to process things before he’s able to talk about it. Maybe it has to do with his past or maybe it’s just a way he’s learned to guard himself, but I know not to pry.

  “I don’t know… maybe I’m just starting to look at my life and everything I wanted to accomplish… and everything that I haven’t.” He shrugs and takes a deep breath, looking anywhere but at me.

  “You’ve done so much though, Lane. Sure, there’s no family or any of that shit, but you’re still young. You’ve made a huge name for yourself, man. That’s huge for someone who’s not even considered middle aged yet.” I grin, knowing how much he hates that term, and relax a little when I see the grin sweep across his face.

  He doesn’t talk any more about what’s bothering him and I don’t push. I know he’ll tell me in time, but that doesn’t stop my mind from wandering to the what-if’s. What if his brother reached out to him? What if his parents died and he has to go back there? My mind races through our entire meal and once we’re on the way back to my place, he reaches over and takes my hand, immediately sending feelings I don’t need to have for my best friend through my body. By the time we get back in the car I’m ready to get home and go to bed, leaving all these feelings behind.

  “You cool? You’ve been quiet. Steve didn’t… try anything… did he?” He tries to make his voice threatening but fails miserably.

  “No, Lane. Steve was just lame. I’m fine, just tired.” I lie, but that’s better than getting into it tonight over what’s bothering him. That, and I really need to get out of this car. It feels so small and I feel so small next to his muscular build. I can’t be this close to him and trust myself.

&n
bsp; Dumb, I know, that after all these years I still lust after him but I don’t think it’s lust anymore and I’m deathly afraid of losing him. So instead of going for what I love, I try to stay hidden.

  “I’m going out with the boys tomorrow. Down to the coast I think… sooo…” he trails off awkwardly. I slug his shoulder because wanting to reach over and kiss the weird look off his face isn’t an option.

  “Good. Have fun and relax… it’ll be good for ya. I’ll be in bed till the shoot on Monday morning.”

  “Fuck, that’s right,” he sighs, laying his head back on his headrest. “I’ll hit ya up on Sunday if I’m free. We can go over the schedule for the week.”

  “Great, sounds good. Have fun tomorrow.” I climb out and close the door behind me, not looking back as I rush into my apartment. I don’t live in a bad neighborhood, per se, but I definitely don’t like being outside after dark longer than I have to.

  Maybe a weekend unplugged from everything, just sleeping and reading is exactly what I need. Maybe that’ll help me take my mind off the fact that he’ll be out probably screwing chicks and partying it up like the model he is.

  Maybe. But probably not.

  Lane

  “Fuck,” I groan and roll over in bed. The pain that woke me up in the middle of the night is just starting to subside. It only took three damn hours.

  Sunday morning and I’m lying here in an empty bed, watching the sunrise from my condo, all alone. Lately there hasn’t been anyone that I want to bring back here to warm my bed so I haven’t really tried too hard. I don’t need someone here just because.

  That’s a lie. The more I tell myself that… well maybe one day I’ll believe it. Of course there’s someone I want here, I’m just too much of a pussy to do anything about it.

  Pulling myself out of bed, I toss a k-cup in the Keurig and head to the bathroom. After splashing my face with cold water and grabbing a few pain pills, I piss. I’m ready to go out and grab my coffee that just finished up when I immediately hate what I see in the toilet.

  Red.

  “Goddamnit,” I mutter, flushing the toilet with a shaking hand. This can’t be happening to me.

  The office still hasn’t called back but I know this shit isn’t good. What healthy grown man’s piss is bloody? That shit doesn’t happen unless there’s something terribly wrong. The weird part is that it didn’t even hurt. Not one bit. Sure, I’m still getting over the pain from a few hours ago that rendered me motionless for what seemed to be eternity, but peeing blood should’ve been painful, right?

  After staring at my hands under the ice-cold water for way too long, dazed and completely out of my element, I finish up and try to start my Sunday while forgetting about what just happened. Nothing on the agenda today. I could just sit around and do nothing… take a little break… but I’m not so certain that’s a good idea at this point in the game. My brain won’t slow down at all the ‘what if’ scenarios.

  I told Alexis I’d call her if I was free in hopes that she would try to make plans, but she didn’t. She just wanted out of the car as fast as she could. Weird. Something’s going on with her, and I need to find out. She hasn’t been herself lately, but in all honestly neither have I. I’ll be better once the office calls with my results. I’ll be better once I know what I’m facing.

  It’s the uncertainty that’s making me insane.

  Instead of immediately texting Alexis, I throw on clothes and head down the street to the bagel shop. I don’t need the carbs, but I don’t really care right now. Yesterday I spent the day burning calories. One meal isn’t going to kill my muscle mass. I’ve worked too hard for things to go to shit at this point, but I’m finding myself not caring this morning. It’s Sunday, so I know I’m not going to be receiving a phone call today from the doctor’s office, but I can’t help the nagging feeling in my gut that the longer it takes for them to contact me the worse the results are going to be.

  A few weeks ago, when I really noticed the pains becoming more and more recurrent, I finally made the appointment with my doctor to have things checked out. I guess I assumed it was just because of my insane schedule and eating habits, or lack thereof that was making me feel like shit. It didn’t take him long though, to feel around and immediately refer me to the hospital for scans and tests. I fucking hate hospitals and doctors offices. I wanted nothing to do with it, but Braydon talked me into it. He’s the only one that knows about all of this and I’m hoping everything will come back good and no one else will have to know. News like this could ruin my career. News like this could ruin my friendship with Alexis. If she finds out I’ve been lying to her these past few weeks about scheduling and shit she’ll be pissed.

  Hopefully, it all comes back negative and I can go on my way, not worrying about the end of my life before the age of 30.

  By the time lunch rolls around I’ve successfully done nothing all day. The pain from the middle of the night attack has been lingering all day and I can’t shake the depression that’s starting to swell over me for no reason at all. Maybe I’ve spent too much time alone today.

  Maybe it’s time to get out and be around people.

  “Hey, Bray,” I say when he answers groggily. “Dude it’s almost noon, the fuck you still sleeping for?”

  “Late night last night man.” He chuckles, and I hear a female in the background. “Hang on babe,” he says. “What’s up Lane? I thought you were laying low today.”

  I hear him close a door and shuffle through his apartment. Knowing his place is laid out exactly like mine, just one story above me, I can tell he’s heading to take a piss.

  “You gotta do that on the phone man?” I laugh when I hear the toilet flush and the water goes rushing down the pipes in my wall. Sometimes being this close to your best friend has its positives, and other times you wonder why we chose to do this.

  “A man’s gotta piss,” he says, laughing. “Seriously, though. What’s going on today?” I hear another door close and can hear him walking to the other side of his place. Grinning to myself, I now realize it’s probably because he wants me to be the reason his overnight friend has to leave.

  What else are bros for?

  “Wanna grab lunch?” I’m not hungry but it’ll give him an excuse to get her out.

  “Oh yea that’s right! I totally forgot we had plans today! Oh man I’m so fucking sorry, I’ll be right over!” he exclaims louder than he needs to. Holding back my laugh, I shake my head at his antics. Almost thirty and still bringing strangers home from random places.

  Seriously dude.

  At least the chicks I fuck are in the business with me.

  “See ya in a few,” he says then I hear him start to tell his guest she has to leave before hanging up.

  Waiting in my apartment, trying not to listen to his guest screaming at him, I shoot Alexis a text.

  Me: Bray and I are grabbing lunch. Feel up to some boy time?

  Maybe just being with my closest friends, not working or stressed, will take my mind off of the impending news.

  Al: Yea, sounds good. Give me a few and I’ll be over.

  Me:Great. See ya soon

  I always end with a smiley with her. It’s just what I do. I’d love to end with a heart, but I don’t want her to know how I feel about her. She’s trying to get her life in order and I don’t want to be the one to hold her back. Sure, my life is on track but I’m afraid that if we get together, people will start to talk about her like she’s a gold digger, even though that’s far from the truth.

  She’s my best friend that I have loved since the first time I’ve laid eyes on her but never told a soul. I wouldn’t be able to take people talking negative about her, and especially now that I might be dying I definitely don’t want to hold her back. Jesus, that’d be a shitty thing for me to do. ‘Hey, I love you, and I’m going to be dead soon’ just isn’t a way to get on someone’s good side.

  Within a half hour she’s letting herself into my apartment, shaking her head at the
noise upstairs.

  “God, again?” She laughs to herself, making herself at home and grabbing a water from the fridge before joining me on the couch.

  “Yes, again.” I sigh. “He’s too old for this shit, Al. I’m worried about him.”

  Worried as in ‘what if I die and he doesn’t have a bro to help him get out of this playboy stage?’ but I can’t tell her that much. Not yet.

  “Well, he just needs to find that someone.” She smiles and traces the water droplets forming on the outside of her bottle absentmindedly. “One day.”

  What’s she thinking about? I know Bray is insanely attractive and most girls would kill for a night with him, but I never knew Alexis went for the dark and moody type. I guess I always hoped she went for the more… light… and happy and carefree… model… type.

  Not that I’m trying to project my wants on her, but I always hoped that between the two of us, she’d be more attracted to me than him.

  I’m a fucking model. Sure, he’s a musician, but I still have hopes that she isn’t sitting here thinking about banging my best friend. Not that I’d have any room to be pissed at them if they did, I just really don’t want to see that happen. Not in my lifetime.

  By the time Braydon finally makes it downstairs it’s been almost an hour since Alexis got here. We’ve made small talk, discussed our schedules for the week, and watched part of an episode of What Not to Wear.

  “Had your fill of the crazies of L.A. yet, Bray?” Alexis asks, watching him sulk across the room to the freezer.

  “She threw her fucking shoe at my head,” he grumbles. “Insane bitch.” Grabbing a bag of peas, he sits on the sofa and grunts.

  “Braydon Michael Simms, you’re the one who brings these girls home with a promise of a relationship, then shoos them out the next day like you don’t even remember their name!” I laugh at their banter because she obviously cares for him, and he obviously likes giving her a hard time.

  Shit.

  “I’m not promising them shit but a brilliant orgasm.” He winks at her and she scoffs.

 

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