The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1)

by Martin, R. C.

  I smile at him as I grip his shoulders and pull us closer together. “You’re amazing. I would never back out on a date with you. Not ever.” He responds with a kiss and when he pulls away, I have to remind myself that we’re in a public place so that I don’t lean in for more. I might not be addicted to the drink, but I can’t say that I’m not addicted to those lips.

  “Addie?” calls an unfamiliar voice. I look around for my sister before I realize that whoever spoke thinks I’m Addie.

  I turn to glance behind the bar and identify the carrier of the voice right away—I can tell because he’s looking right at me, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. I pull my hands from Sonny as I take in the stranger’s features; curlyish hair that’s just short of shaggy, brown eyes framed by thick eyelashes, a chiseled jaw with a goatee. A goatee… “You’re Roman,” I say with a soft gasp of recognition.

  “Uh—yeah.” He looks from me to Sonny and then back at me. “How much have you had to drink?” he asks suspiciously.

  At first, I’m confused by the question, unsure whether or not I should be offended, and then I remember that he thinks I’m Addie. I laugh and shake my head at him and am about to introduce myself when Addie and Sarah come up behind me. Sonny offers Addie his stool before he makes himself comfortable behind me. When I look back at Roman his eyes are wide and his eyebrows are lifted in surprise.

  “Hey, Roman,” greets Addie. I laugh some more as he looks between the two of us.

  “Avery?” he asks me. I offer him a nod. He folds his arms across his chest and arches an eyebrow at my sister. “You’re a twin. You didn’t tell me you were a twin.”

  “I didn’t?” Addie laughs now, too. “Whoops.”

  “Hey, handsome.” Sarah calls for Roman’s attention as she sits between Claire and Avery. I smile at the two of them as he responds. Last week, she let the term of endearment slip and he didn’t even bat an eyelash before he answered with, “hey, gorgeous.” They haven’t used each other’s names since. Sarah swears up and down that she doesn't like him like that, but I barely believe her. Barely.

  “Hey, gorgeous.”

  “How about a round of birthday shots for our girls, here? Oh, and make them the chocolate cake ones!”

  “You got it. How many?”

  Sarah takes a quick head count before Roman starts concocting shots. “Eric! Hey, can we have this round on the house?” He gives her a look that says he thinks she’s crazy before she starts begging. “Please? As a happy birthday to your favorite waitress under five foot two and her stunt double?” I laugh as he looks over at Avery and me and we both flash him over-the-top grins to try and weaken his resolve. It works.

  “One round,” he says, lifting a single finger.

  “Yay! Thanks, Eric,” cheers Sarah with a clap.

  “Thank you, Eric,” Ave and I call out as he shakes his head and makes his way to the other end of the bar.

  Our drinks are made and delivered in no time. Sarah lifts her glass and we all follow her lead—Gray and Beck holding up their water glasses. “Look at our men,” I whisper into Avery’s ear. “Staying responsible for us.” She winks at me before Sarah starts to speak.

  “A toast—wait, I made the first toast with the wine. Someone else needs to make this one.”

  “And make it snappy,” says Claire with a playful scowl. “It’s almost ten o’clock and these girls have only had one drink! It’s time to get this party started.” Avery and I exchange a nervous glance before we burst into a fit of giggles.

  “I’ll say something.” Beckham speaks up and my giddy laughter stops immediately. “To the birthday twins,” he begins, looking from me to Avery and then back at me. “Here’s to another year of you. I hope, no matter what, that you appreciate every single day and embrace life’s surprises. I believe God’s got something in the works for both of you—so cheers, to all that is yet to unfold.”

  I don’t realize that I have stopped breathing until Ave squeezes my hand and pulls me from my trance. His words are sweet and I have to stifle the urge to get up and race over to him so that I can smother him with affection for all the special things he’s managed to do for me on my birthday. I blow out the breath I was holding as I will my eyes away from his so that I might focus on my sister. She offers me an understanding smile before she clinks her glass against mine. “Cheers,” she says, and then we both throw back the shot.

  “Lemon, lemon!” Sarah calls out as we set our glasses down. “Suck the lemon and it’ll taste like chocolate cake.” We do as we’re told, but the taste in my mouth is horrible and doesn’t remind me of chocolate cake at all. I can tell by the look on Avery’s face that she agrees. We laugh and soon we’re all smiles and Claire and Sarah are trying to think of what drink we should have next.

  “I’m feeling kind of warm inside. Do you feel that?” Avery asks. I stop to assess how I feel and notice that I know what she's talking about. I nod and then hear a chuckle from behind the bar.

  “This is going to be amusing,” says Roman when my eyes find him. I bite the inside of my cheek when it dawns on me that, along with the warm feeling that seems to be heating me from the inside out, Roman is starting to look more attractive than usual. Gray and Jack were teasing us about beer goggles earlier, at dinner, and I think I'm starting to understand what they meant...

  “Christ, Rome—I thought you said it wouldn’t get busy until later. It’s practically standing room only up here.”

  Roman’s attention is pulled away from me as he addresses the woman who now has my attention, as well. “Word choice?” he chastises. “And by the looks of it, you managed to grab a stool.”

  “Yeah—but Logan’s going to have to stand until some of the masses disperse,” she responds before I can assess the tone with which Roman speaks to her. “Unless, wait, is this the Corny fan club? Is this VIP seating? Am I in someone’s spot?” she teases with a grin.

  I sit up straighter at the sound of his nickname. This is his sister, Daphne! Didn’t he say she is the only one who calls him that? I study her for a moment, trying to find the family resemblance. It doesn’t take me long to find out that there really isn’t any. Aside from her dark brown eyes and matching wavy hair—which is cut into a drastic asymmetrical bob, her generous bangs, died hot pink and pinned to the side, out of her face—they don’t look anything alike. Roman has the kind of physic that demands attention—she doesn’t. In fact, she’s kind of like a human pole. I can tell she’s about average height, but her tight white jeans and silver, sequin tank top extenuate her tiny bust and non-existent hips. Roman has a sort of natural beauty that’s effortless, but I can tell she thinks she has to work for hers. She wears a lot of makeup, mostly eyeshadow, and it looks really good—her smoky eye in contrast to her pink hair calling attention to her face, along with the small nose ring and another in her lip—but it makes me wonder what she looks like underneath it all. Okay, maybe the alcohol is going to my head a little and I’m judging her a bit harshly—she’s just not what I expected. She appears to have a very nice smile—but she doesn't look anything like Roman.

  “Hey, birthday girl. Is there something I can help you with?” she asks, not unkindly.

  I’m startled when she addresses me and then my jaw drops unbecomingly when I realize it’s because I was staring. “I’m sorry, I—wait, how did you know it was my birthday?”

  “Well, I certainly hope it is. You don’t generally wear tiaras when you go out, do you?”

  I giggle, because I can't help myself, and shake my head. “No. You’re right. Oh, and sorry for staring. I didn’t know you lived here.”

  She furrows her brow in confusion but I can tell she’s amused by me. I’m not sure why or how I feel about it. “Have we met?”

  I gasp as I turn back towards Roman, who is watching our exchange with a grin on his face. “Roman!” I cry, smacking my palm against my forehead. “How could you just let me start blabbering like that. You know we’ve never met and I am apparently under
the influence and obviously don’t care.” I huff out a breath as I press my palms against the counter and lean closer to him. He meets me halfway and I whisper, “She's going to think I'm crazy!”

  “Oh, you mean like Avery when I thought she was you?”

  Another giggle escapes me. “Touché,” I concede with a grin.

  “Are you two done with your lover’s quarrel? Is someone going to tell me what the hell I missed?” asks Daphne as she leans her forearms against the bar, anxious to be included.

  For a fraction of a second, I’m distracted by the script I see tattooed across the inside of her right forearm. I wonder what it says—and then I register that she just implied Roman and I are lovers. “We’re not lovers,” I insist.

  “This is Addie,” Roman speaks the same time I do. “She’s a friend of mine,” he tacks on before he continues. “Addie, Daphne—my baby sis.”

  “I just graduated from college. Do you think I can also graduate to just sis?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Daphne rolls her eyes before extending her hand to shake mine. I reciprocate the gesture. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Same here.”

  “Hey, handsome,” Sarah calls for Roman and I know my next drink is on its way. I decide that whatever it is, I'm going to drink it very slowly.

  “So how do you know my brother?”

  “I work here. Oh! But we met at yoga,” I remember aloud.

  “Mmm, a fellow yogi. He’s been trying to convert me ever since he moved up here and started teaching it. One day he’ll learn that his efforts are futile and he’ll give up. He’s been trying to get me to stop swearing for a while now, too,” she admits, speaking with the back of her hand propped against the side of her mouth as if she's telling me a secret. “If you couldn’t guess, he doesn’t approve of that either.”

  I nod, studying her once more. There are quite a few details he left out when describing his sister. Then again, despite what we may know about one another, we’ve only been acquainted for a couple weeks—what do I expect? “He loves you very much, regardless.” I tell her.

  She props her head against her fist as a small smile pulls at her lips. “He told you that?”

  “Yeah. He said you two are very close.”

  “We are,” she states matter-of-factly. “It’s just not something I know him to share with just anyone. He must like you.”

  Before I can respond, a pretty, frozen, pink drink is placed in front of me. It’s big, which makes me remember that I am going to take this one at a snail’s pace. Claire gives the next toast—because apparently there has to be a toast with every drink tonight—and then I turn back to Daphne, hoping to address her last comment. Daphne, however is no longer alone. Her friend, who looks like she just walked off a cover of a magazine, is standing in the small space between us.

  When I say she looks like a cover girl, I’m not exaggerating—and it’s not my beer goggles talking. If her hair—which is thick, straight, and grown out to her shoulders, like mine—wasn’t blonde, I might mistake her for Roman’s sister instead of Daphne. She’s skinny; not in a gross way but in the every-guy-(and-girl)-most-certainly-checks-me-out way. She’s wearing a printed mini skirt and a silky blue tank top and heels, gorgeous purple heels, that make her a good four inches taller than me—even with my heels on. I can tell, as she leans against the bar and flirts with Roman, that her eyes are green.

  Stop staring, I tell myself as I sip at my drink.

  “Logan! Stop flirting and meet my new friend. It’s her birthday,” says Daphne. For reasons I can’t explain just now, it makes me happy that she’s referred to me as her friend. Logan shifts so that she’s leaning her side against the bar as she looks at me. “Logan, this is Addie. Addie, this is my bestie, Logan.”

  “It’s a pleasure,” she says. She speaks with her shoulders, shrugging them delicately as she tilts her head in acknowledgment. I can’t tell if she’s genuine or not and before I can figure it out, my sister joins in on our conversation.

  “Who are your new friends?”

  “Whoa, there’s two of you?” Daphne gasps.

  “Technically, there’s one of each of us. But sure! I’m Avery.”

  “This is Daphne, Roman’s sister, and Logan,” I say, completing the introductions.

  “It’s nice to meet you. Oh, and happy birthday,” Daphne replies.

  I decide then and there that I like her and I accept her title as friend and claim her as mine, too.

  “So, all these cute guys are here to celebrate you?” Logan asks. I watch her eyes wander over my head and behind me, where I know at least four of our guy friends are standing.

  “Yup,” Avery answers innocently.

  “How about we buy you two a shot and join your party?” She doesn’t wait for a response from either of us before she turns to address Eric, who is the closest and most readily available. As she places her order, I decide then and there that I don’t think I like her.

  I stare down Roman, hoping he’ll feel my gaze locked on him so I can steal his attention. It takes a minute, but he eventually sees me. I nod, ever so slightly, in Logan’s direction and try to convey with my face my question. He closes the distance between us and leans across the bar so he can speak softly into my ear.

  “Watch out for that one,” he warns.

  I’m glad I came. Not that my attendance was ever in question, but I’m glad that I’m here to be another pair of eyes watching over Addie as she celebrates. If I'm being honest, I'm glad to be another pair of eyes that simply gets to appreciate how fantastic she looks tonight. The smartest decision I’ve made all day is to stay sober. That little black dress would be my undoing if I lost the tiny bit of self-control I’ve managed to hang onto for this long.

  I can tell she’s having a great time, which fills me with relief. I was worried about how our current relationship status, coupled with my presence, would affect her—but she seems to be in a good place and I won’t question that. What I do question, or rather who, is this Roman guy. It’s obvious that he’s quite popular with the ladies—including mine.

  Alright—I guess, right now, I don't have the right to call her mine...but either way, I’m not sure I like the way he looks at her. I’ve been trying my best to keep my distance tonight. I sat across from her at dinner instead of next to her, like I usually would. Even now, Robert, who sings on the praise team with Addison, and Gray stand between her and me. I want her to know that I’m here and that I always will be, but I don't want to push her or tempt myself by putting us in flirting proximity—then again, I’m also not sure how much more I can take watching her and Roman from my vantage point.

  “Hey, Sarah,” I steal her focus as I tap on her shoulder. She smiles up at me in response. “What’s with this Roman character?” She casts a look over her shoulder and sees what I see—Roman leaning over the bar so that he can whisper something in Addison’s ear. My fists clinch reflexively and I’m overwhelmed with an emotion I am not really sure how to deal with. He’s too close for comfort.

  “My, my,” Sarah purrs as she grins at me. “Is somebody jealous?”

  Claire gasps as she flicks her gaze up at me. “I’ve never seen Beckham jealous.”

  “He’s never had a reason to be”.

  I shake my head at both of them and release my fingers from the balls that were my fists. They have a point. Addie has never given me a reason to doubt her feelings toward me. I trust her; I’ve always trusted her. That’s not going to stop now. “I don’t know that I have a reason to be even now,” I tell them. “I just want to know his story.”

  “Well, they’re just friends,” Sarah concedes with a sigh.

  “But Beckham,” Claire pipes in, “she’s a catch and you know it. You can’t stop other guys for falling for her and you most certainly can’t stop other guys from pursuing her unless you fight for her yourself.” I don’t like the truth behind her words. I fold my arms across my chest in frustration. She’s righ
t, but I’m in no position to fight for her right now. “I know what you’re thinking,” she continues, successfully interrupting my train of thought. “I’m saying: get your ass over there and passive-aggressively fight for your girl, or whatever. Now. Go! Oh and take some water. I think blondie over there just bought her another shot,” she instructs, handing me a full glass.

  Content with my excuse to make my way over, I nod at the girls in my corner before I enter into flirting proximity. “Hey, birthday girl.” I rest my hand against the bare skin of her shoulder just long enough to catch her attention. The smile I’m rewarded with reminds me what I’m fighting for—not just here in this moment, but in general. “I thought you could use some water.”

  She sighs happily as she takes the glass from me and begins sucking from the straw, greedily. “Thank you,” she mumbles between sips. “I’m feeling sooo weird right now.”

  I chuckle as I slip my fingers into the front pockets of my jeans. “Good weird or bad weird?”

  “Oh, good! Definitely good weird. Warm and fuzzy weird.”

  I laugh, shoving my hands further into my pockets. I want to kiss her. I want to pull her into my arms or hold her hand or touch her cheek so badly that if I don’t bury my hands, I’ll do one—if not all—of the above and confuse the hell out of her. “I’m glad you’re feeling warm and fuzzy. Do me a favor and drink all of that water before you drink anything else.”

  “Yes, sir”, she says playfully before downing more water.

  She’s so freaking cute, I can hardly stand it.

  “Addie, aren’t you going to introduce us to Bow Tie?” asks blondie.

  Addison looks at me, at blondie and her friend, then back behind the bar at Roman, before she decides. She wraps her hand around my elbow as she speaks. “This is Beckham.”