The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1)

by Martin, R. C.

  “Got an order?” asks Roman as he makes his way toward me.

  “I lied,” I blurt out the words without thinking. “I lied to him. I’ve never lied to him.”

  I barely register that his eyebrows dip in confusion as he asks, “Who? What are you talking about?”

  “He asked me if I was okay.” The words just keep pouring from my mouth and I can’t stop them. I think if I don’t keep talking, I’ll start crying. “He asked me if I was okay and I told him I was. I’m not. I’m not okay. Oh, crap—I’m not okay.”

  “Hey, look at me,” Roman insists. For some reason, I obey. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

  I can no longer speak. My eyes are too full and if I open my mouth now…

  I bite down on the inside of my cheek until I taste blood. It doesn't stop the tears from falling.

  “Addie….”

  “Addie?”

  “Addison.”

  Roman, Sarah, and Beckham all speak at the same time but Beckham wins my attention. He standing so close I can feel his body heat radiating off of him. For a split second, I don’t care that we’re broken up—I need to touch him; and in that split second, my body acts before I can stop it. I cling to him and the relief I feel when he wraps his arms around me is overwhelming. He awkwardly yet gently guides me away from the bar and further down the service hallway, all the while keeping me close.

  “Addison, I’m sorry. It was really stupid of me to come. Stupid and selfish. I’m going to go.”

  “No,” I sniff, looking up at him. “Please, don’t go. I’ll stop crying in a minute. I just—this is so hard and so confusing. I’ve missed you and I don’t know how to handle it and I’m sorry. I’ll stop. I just—I just need a minute.”

  “You don’t need to apologize, okay? I get it. Better than anyone.” He reaches up to wipe away my tears and his touch soothes me. “I’ve missed you, too. To be honest, I didn’t know you were working tonight but I was hoping you were. I realize, now, that makes me kind of an ass.”

  I know he knows that if we ran into each other tonight that it would be hard for me. But the fact that he wanted to see me, the fact that he missed me, it makes public meltdown number two completely worth it. “No, it doesn’t,” I assure him. “Don’t leave. You being here—with Jack and Gray—that’s normal. If we’re always avoiding each other…” I let my voice trail off, unwilling to finish the sentence.

  “When do you get off?” he asks, pulling away from me. He slides his fingers into his pockets as if he needs some sort of restraint to keep himself from touching me. It kind of makes me feel a little better.

  “At eleven,” I answer.

  “How about you and Sarah join us when you’re done? Like you said—all of us hanging out, that’s normal. We’ll kill three birds with one stone. I’ll get to see you, you’ll get to see me, and we’ll get a chance to adjust to the new normal.” His suggestion is both appealing and totally unattractive, but I nod in agreement. I need to be near him no matter how much it tears me apart. “Okay. I’m going to head back.”

  “Yeah,” I mutter, rubbing away the remnants of my outburst. “I’ll be over with your drinks in a second.” As I make my way back to the bar, I notice Sarah is out on the floor, helping one of her tables. She catches my eye and shoots me a worried look but I force a smile and mouth I’m fine.

  “You okay?” asks Roman as he rests his elbows on the counter.

  I shift my focus toward him and free a sigh. “I will be,” I answer honestly.

  “So it wasn’t my amazing yoga class that brought you to tears this morning, after all,” he quips. I surprise myself when I laugh. “Ah, a smile,” he says, flashing me a smile of his own. “Yeah, you’ll be alright.” My amusement lingers as he pushes himself up off the bar. “So, what can I get for you?”

  I decide then and there that Roman is officially my new friend.

  This one time, forever and ever ago, this guy named Joshua was fighting this battle and he called out to God and prayed for the sun to stand still in the sky until his army found victory. God heard his cry and listened and the daylight stretched on as if time itself was standing still. If I recall correctly, that was the one and only time God allowed that to happen—and yet, I swear time is not moving right now. Instead, this day just keeps going and going and going and I’m no closer to getting off of work than I was this morning!

  Okay, okay—that’s a gross exaggeration. I actually only have an hour left. But, goodness gracious, it seems like I’ve been here forever. The truth of the matter is, I’m incredibly distracted. And anxious. And excited. My thoughts seem to be focusing on everything except work. Honestly, it’s a miracle I’ve made it through this day without screwing up people’s orders or dropping everything I touch.

  Every five minutes, I’m thinking of Addie. I haven’t really had a chance to talk to her since yesterday afternoon, before she went to work. Even then, we only had a half an hour from the time I got home until she had to leave. When she and Sarah got back, I was already asleep. Today, she’s working an earlier shift—two until eight—so she’ll be gone by the time I get home. We have been texting a bit, so I know that she went to yoga yesterday. She told me that her yoga instructor happens to be that Roman character Sarah was going crazy over. Apparently he’s a pretty cool guy. I also know that she saw Hammy last night. I’m still dying to hear the details on that one. And she tells me she’s been journaling, which makes me happy. It also makes me think about Sonny.

  I think about Sonny about every other second. I used to think I thought about him plenty before—but my past thought patterns pale in comparison to my current state of mind. Then again, I never had memories of him asking me to be his girlfriend over and over or him kissing me repeatedly—scenes for me to rewind and play back in my head all day. I sigh wistfully as I remember the way he pulled me into his arms; the way his hair felt between my fingers; and how his mouth tasted faintly of mint.

  Dear Jesus—thank You for Grayson. Thank You for giving me another reason to remember how much You love me.

  I haven’t seen him since he dropped me off after our errand on Tuesday. Our work schedules prevented us from being able to meet up at all yesterday. He invited me to come out with him, Jack, and Hammy after he got off, but I was too tired to even seriously consider it. I’m still getting into the swing of waking up at five fifteen every morning. He did call me, though, on his way to the pub. He told me about his day and I told him about mine. We didn’t talk for long, but it was still special because he was calling me as my boyfriend.

  I bite my lip at the thought, fighting to contain my grin. It’s still hard to believe.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket and I reach for it right away. It’s a text from Sonny. I free my grin and peek out into the front of the store to make sure there aren’t any customers before I swipe my screen to open his message.

  Sonny: Ave, I have a serious problem…I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU.

  I giggle as my stomach does a somersault—a trick that’s clearly reserved for Grayson only. I think for a moment before I type my reply.

  Me: That’s a problem?

  Sonny: On my way into work this morning, I got honked at twice because I zoned out and didn’t notice when the stop light turned green.

  Me: Haha. Okay, yeah…maybe that’s a problem. Does that mean we have to break up? :(

  Sonny: Absolutely not! Just means I need you in the car with me so that I have you to tell me when the light turns green.

  Me: A good idea in theory…but I can’t promise that I’ll be able to stop thinking about you long enough to pay attention to such minor details.

  Sonny: :)

  Sonny: I can’t wait to see you. Are you excited for our first date?

  Me: Wait—we have a date?

  Sonny: Whoops. Wrong girlfriend…

  Me: Haha. Stop it! Of course I’m excited. I’m dying to see you.

  Sonny: Speaking of my gf, I changed your contact info in my phone. I rep
laced “Avery” with something else. I figured if no one else knew about our relationship, at least Siri should know.

  I laugh and then cover my mouth, looking to see if Dottie or any new customer is around. I’m still alone, Dottie busy in the back, so I resume texting.

  Me: And who did you tell Siri that I am?

  Sonny: My Shorty.

  I laugh again, with a blush this time. I’m so in-like with this guy that it’s not even funny. I pinch myself—literally pinch myself—because I need to be sure I’m not dreaming. I feel like such a cheese-ball, but I’m so happy that I don’t even care how ridiculous or blissfully gross our flirty exchanges are. It hasn’t even been forty-eight hours and yet being in a relationship with Sonny is better than I ever imagined it possibly could be.

  Me: That’s very fitting. Guess it’s time I told Siri about us too, huh? Hmm…what name should I give you?

  Sonny: You tell me. You’ve already given me one nickname. I bet you can come up with another.

  Me: My Hottie?

  Sonny: You think I’m hot?

  Me: Maybe…

  My Hottie: For the record, I think you’re hot too.

  My Hottie: Did I make you blush?

  Me: Hahahaha…I’ll never tell

  My Hottie: That means yes ;)

  My Hottie: Have to get back to work. See you tonight. 7:00.

  Me: Can’t wait!!

  “Don’t think you’ve managed to get away with whatever it is you’re doing without me hearing you giggle up here,” says Dottie as she makes her way from the back with a tray of freshly sliced zucchini bread. She opens the back of the display case and slides it in before turning to face me. “By the look on your face and the phone in your hand, I’m going to go ahead and guess this has something to do with a boy.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me before she pulls out a second stool and plops down beside me. “So. Let’s have it.”

  I don’t bother to hide my smile as I stare at her for a moment, contemplating how much I’d like to share. Her light brown ringlets are pulled up in a bun on top of her head, leaving her gracefully long neck on display. Dottie is slim with not a single curve to boast of—unless you count her barely-noticeable-bust—which I do, even if she doesn’t; I can relate, even though I’m sure I’m a cup bigger than she is. In any case, her killer metabolism and her vegetarian life-style are the reasons why she can own a specialty bread bakery with so many delicious carbs and still look as good as she does. She considers herself to be pretty plain, but I don’t think so. She’s got big, round, hazel eyes that I think are the opposite of plain. I’ve never seen her in makeup, but her pronounced cheekbones and delicate nose and chin make her look timeless, if you ask me.

  She clears her throat, hinting at her impatience, and I refocus my thoughts. I must admit that it’s a little bit like torture carrying around this too-good-to-be-true secret. I want to tell Addie so badly, but she’s so fragile that I’m not sure how she’ll take the news. I mean, like Sonny said, I know she’ll be happy for us…but I’m also worried it’ll make her think about Hammy even more and I don’t want to be the trigger that induces more crying. Her poor tear ducts. No, I think it’s a good idea that we give it a few more days, regardless of how much it’s killing me to keep this from her.

  Dottie, on the other hand, can keep a secret. Furthermore, she’s not likely to accidentally give anything away as she doesn’t usually hang out with our group. I decide that I’ll tell her and then inform Sonny later; if he needs an outlet, he should be able to pick someone, too.

  “Can you keep a secret?” I ask as preamble.

  “Better than anyone I know.”

  “Grayson and I are dating.”

  She perks up in her seat and her round eyes grow wide with excitement. “Shut. Up.”

  “It just happened. Two days ago. We’re going on our first date tonight.”

  “Two days ago? And you’re just now telling me? Oh, my gosh. You’re fired.” We both laugh and then she stands up and reaches into the display case once more. Only this time, she pulls out two chocolate croissants—one of my favorites—and she hands me mine before returning to her stool and taking a bite out of hers. “You’re hired again only after you tell me all the details.”

  Since I love my job, I start from the beginning.

  I thought having shorter hair would make it less maintenance. I was wrong. While I spend less time in the shower, I now spend more time in front of the mirror trying to get it to look right—a fact that I would deny to anyone who assumes otherwise. I tousle my auburn waves until I’m satisfied and then check the time. 6:50. Crap. I need to move. I hurry to my room to finish getting dressed. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date and I’ve never been on a date with a girl I care this much about. Not ever.

  No pressure.

  I jump into a pair of khakis and a white button-up dress shirt. While I leave the collar open, I tuck in the bottom and slap on a brown belt before sliding my feet into my matching dress shoes. If Patrick taught me anything, it was how to look presentable when the situation called for it. It’s warm out, so I roll up my cuffs as I grab my keys and my wallet. I’m halfway to the door when I remember that I forgot my cologne. I hurry back to my room to apply a squirt when I hear the front door open and shut.

  Great. I knew it was too good to be true that I had the apartment to myself. I thought I had gotten lucky and that I’d be able to slip out without having to offer any excuses as to where I was going dressed the way that I am. Keeping my relationship with Avery a secret is harder than I originally anticipated. It’s bad enough that just thinking about her makes me smile like a goof. I haven’t been called out on it yet, but I’m sure it hasn’t gone unnoticed. It’ll be a miracle if I can get out of here smelling the way that I do without getting the third degree.

  I check the time once more—6:59—I need to go.

  As I make my way out of my room, I see that it’s Jackson who’s home. He’s in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge. For a fraction of a second, I think about not saying anything and silently making my exit, but Jack turns and spots me before I can make up my mind about whether or not I want to be rude and ignore him. He’s got a box of leftover take-out in his hand and he freezes as he studies me.

  “Hey. Where’re you going?” he asks with a furrowed brow.

  “Out,” I answer simply, backing my way to the door.

  He smirks at me as he sets the carton down and folds his arms across his chest. “Looking like that? What, you got a date or something?”

  “Something,” I mutter with a shrug as I reach the front door. “I’m going to be late. I’ll catch you later.”

  I’m outside before he can respond. For a second, I keep my hand on the door handle as I take a breath. I can’t believe I actually got away with that. Not wanting to press my luck, I hurry up the stairs so that I can get Avery and we can get out of here. I’m wondering how long she’ll want to keep this secret as I knock and wait for her to answer. When the door swings open, my mind goes completely blank at the sight of her and I forget everything that has happened in the last ten minutes.

  Avery often refers to herself as a band geek. Looking at her now, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. She’s got on yellow heels. The dress she’s wearing stops just above her knees; it’s white with black polka-dots; it’s strapless and hugs her petite frame perfectly. A little teal bag dangles from a strap around one of her wrists and she’s got a yellow sweater draped over her opposite arm. Her hair is curled and it falls down her chest and back like a cape. Her neck is unadorned and I am struck with the desire to kiss the tiny mole just above her collarbone. That is, until my eyes travel up to her lips—which are parted just slightly. Finally, my eyes reach hers. A smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth as I watch her eyes finish their own journey. When our gazes align, heat creeps its way into her cheeks.

  Her blush is my kryptonite. I hope that never changes.
r />   I reach out my hands to hold her face as I lean down, bringing my mouth to greet hers. She snakes her arms around my neck instantly, igniting a desire I wasn’t fully aware that I had—but now it’s burning within me, this need to express to her just how much she means to me. I need her to know that she’s special; that I will be good to her; that I will protect her—even if that means I have to protect her from myself. I need her to know that she’s not just some girl to me, but that I see the good in her—I see God in her—and I recognize how precious she is. I’ve never known someone like Avery before.

  I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her closer, lifting her from her feet so that I have easier access to her lips. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed her. “I’ve missed you,” I whisper, stopping our kiss simply because I want to look into her eyes.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  “You look gorgeous.”

  “Thanks, Hottie,” she says with a grin.

  I laugh as I set her back on her feet. It hits me, just then, that I’m no longer nervous. I have no reason to be. Avery and I will have a great time no matter what. We always do. Isn’t that why I’m so crazy about her? “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes.” She turns and shuts the door behind her and then smiles up at me.

  I offer her my hand and she accepts without a moment’s hesitation. “Do you want to know where I’m taking you?”

  “Call me crazy, but I don’t care even a little bit—as long as you’re there.”

  “Oh, Shorty,” I groan, pulling her into my arms. “You can’t say stuff like that.”