The Promise

by River Laurent

  She blinks. “I was just teasing you. Why were you jealous?” she taunts.

  “I pretended to myself I wasn’t whenever I saw you linked to another man in some celebrity magazine or other, but fuck, Taylor, I’m insanely jealous. Hearing about you with any other guy makes my guts burn like acid.”

  She licks her lips. “What about you? Did you … er … bring anyone else here?”

  “What do you think?”

  She smiles cheekily. “No?”

  “Go straight to the top of the class, Taylor Rose McCarthy.”

  Her smile becomes a grin. “You’re turning me on. Either get off me or inside me.”

  “You’ll pay for that later.”

  “What? Like the last time you said that.”

  The memory throws me off guard. That was the night I tied her up and teased her for hours without letting her come. She winks up at me and pushes me off her before turning back to unpacking the food. I lie back on the grass, hard as a rock, and watch her. How can she think about food after reminding me of that night? Now I’m remembering the moonlit nights when it was just the two of us, and all the times I took her right here in the grass. Or in the water. Or anywhere.

  “Do you remember that night the grizzly came?” she asks.

  Her expression makes me laugh.

  “How can you laugh about that?” she shrieks. “I was scared to death. I thought it was going to tear us to pieces!”

  “It wouldn’t have because it wasn’t a damn bear in the first place, but I’m sure the sound of you screaming and running around would’ve really protected us if that stray dog had been a bear.”

  “Stop calling it a dog. If it was a dog, it was a very big dog. Like abnormally big.”

  I lie back on my hands and laugh at the memory of that night.

  She savagely tears at a baguette and layers cheese and sliced apple on top, then takes a big bite. “God, you’re such a jerk.”

  “I’m just saying, you might have overreacted a little. That’s all.” I wonder if she knows how gorgeous she is when she’s all fired up the way she is right now.

  “Not half as much as you overreacted when you thought there were leeches in the lake. I can’t even believe you would make fun of me when you’re the one who ran out of the water, slapping at yourself, jumping around like the soles of your feet were on fire.” She jumps to her feet and does an imitation which, I have to admit, is probably pretty accurate.

  I crack open my ale with a laugh. “Because you’re the one who said there were leeches out there!”

  “I didn’t say there were leeches on you,” she points out between bursts of infectious giggles. “I only said I heard there were leeches in the lake and one of them attached itself to Jimmy Dolan’s penis. That’s all I said.”

  “You don’t say a thing like that to a guy and expect him not to react the way I did. Certain things are precious,” I say, taking the makeshift sandwich she hands me.

  “Like the almighty penis,” she says with a dramatic eye roll.

  “Excuse me, Miss, but you weren’t complaining about my almighty penis last night. All four times.”

  “No, but I doubt a simple little leech would’ve done much to hurt something as big as your dick.” She winks at me again. Damn, does she have any idea what it does to me when she winks and gives me that sexy half-smile?

  “Way to bring it back around,” I chuckle as I tear into my sandwich and finish off my ale. There’s something about being here with her, and it’s not just the almost perfect weather. A little warmer and I might ask her to revisit our skinny-dipping days, only a lot more X-rated than before. I never used to understand when adults told me that youth was wasted on the young, but now I get it. When we were young and carefree, we didn’t know shit about how to really have fun.

  When the bread and toppings are gone and she’s finished off her ale, Taylor stretches out on her back with one arm bent under her head. “I missed this. Isn’t it funny how you can miss something and not know you’re missing it until it’s back in your life again? Then you look back, and you think, oh. That’s what was wrong.”

  I stretch out, too, on my side so I can watch her. Clouds are starting to build; big, fluffy, white clouds that I watch passing overhead in the reflection in her eyes. Her hair is a puddle of gold under her head, sparkling against the blanket. She’s so young and so impossibly gorgeous, but there’s something in her that won’t let her be happy. A grave maturity behind her perfect face. She’s already lived an entire lifetime in the eight years we spent apart.

  “You know you could have this again if you wanted it.” What am I saying? Why can’t I control the thoughts pouring out of my mouth? Why not give her my Letterman jacket while I’m at it and ask her if she wants to go steady? That’s about the level of pushiness I’m exhibiting.

  Her eyes shift until she’s looking at me again. “Sorry, Cole, but you’re going to have to work much harder than that to undo the past. It’s not the sort of change that can happen overnight.”

  “I know. That doesn’t mean I’m going to stop trying to keep you in my life by any means necessary.”

  “Oh?” She arches an eyebrow. “What do you plan to do? Tie me up and lock me away?”

  “Don’t give me any ideas.” I lean over her and see her smile before my mouth is on hers and she’s in my arms again.

  “What happens if a bear comes along?” she murmurs between kisses, while her fingers dance over the back of my neck and across my shoulders.

  “I guess we’ll have to take our chances.”

  Cole

  She can’t stop looking at me. I can’t stop looking at her. The light hanging over our table is like a spotlight shining on her, making her beauty stand out even stronger than ever. The porcelain skin, the sapphire eyes, the spun-gold hair.

  My hands itch to bury themselves in that thick hair, the way they were buried earlier in the day. Thoughts of our picnic and what came after and everything leading up to it swirl around in my head. I know it’s reflected in the way I’m looking at her, and I don’t care. I don’t care if everybody watching us sees my face and knows there’s something going on.

  She notices, too, and giggles. “If we’re not careful, everybody’s going to know what we’ve been up to,” she whispers.

  “Let them. They’ll all be as envious of me as I would be if I saw you with anyone else.”

  She steals one of my cheese scones in retaliation. “Be careful what you wish for,” she warns with a cryptic smile. “You’ll find yourself all over the internet tomorrow as my new boyfriend.”

  “What would be so bad about that?” I wonder.

  “Cole …”

  “I know. I know. Fame isn’t as fun as it looks.” I don’t want to downplay what she’s going through. I really don’t. I just hate seeing her in this fatalistic mood. I want to see the spark of joy in her eyes, and not just when we’re naked, either.

  Sure enough, there are people looking at us. She’s not completely paranoid. I can imagine it would get old, fast, not being able to scratch my ass without a picture showing up on somebody’s Instagram feed. I look at her cutting into a juicy piece of fried chicken and slipping it into her mouth. I love watching her eat. She is way too thin for my taste. I prefer her with more flesh on her bones.

  “If you were so against being seen, why did you want to have dinner with me in public?”

  She grins. “It’s either this, or lasagna, blueberry muffins, or my cooking. Trust me you don’t want to test my cooking skills.”

  “Are you that bad?”

  “Is burning a bowl of cereal bad? If so, yes. Yes, I am.”

  I almost choke on a mouthful of chips. “You burned a bowl of cereal? How?”

  She shakes her head. “Oh, Cole, Cole. You should know by now that with me, nothing is impossible.”

  We both laugh. “Yeah, but cereal doesn’t need cooking.”

  She smiles. “I was eating out of a plastic bowl and put the bowl down on
the stove when my phone rang …”

  “Ah, but that doesn’t count as cooking.”

  “There are other sorry tales that I won’t go into if you don’t mind,” she says with a sheepish smile. “I guess my culinary skills extend to cooking a package of Ramen noodles, and that’s only if I’m feeling saucy.”

  I lean back. I like her like this. “I guess you don’t need to cook. You have people to do it for you.”

  She rolls her eyes. “True, but it’s refreshing to live a semi-normal life sometimes.”

  “The way we common folk do?”

  She snorts. “You’ve never been common, and you know it. You’re a bit of a celebrity around these parts, aren’t you?”

  “I know how to cook a steak and I can eat a bowl of cereal without melting the bowl.”

  “I’ll be sure to nominate you for a culinary genius award when I get a chance.”

  “You’re so supportive.” I turn my attention to my food. It tastes better than any other time I’ve been here. I don’t know what it is about her, but she has a way of making everything better, no matter what we are doing.

  “I think I got a little too much sun today.” She puts a hand to her forehead, then picks up her beer and touches the cold glass to her skin instead. “I feel sort of drained, you know?”

  “Could be all the activity we’ve been up to,” I suggest with a knowing smile.

  “You’re good, but you’re not that good.”

  “That’s not what you were saying down at the lake.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re not good enough to suck the life force out of me. No offense. I hope that doesn’t hurt your ego.”

  “I’m a big boy. I can take it.” I look at her with fresh eyes. Have I been careless with her health? She does look a little flushed. I frown. “You do look a little off.”

  “Oh, thanks,” she says with a smirk.

  “You women. You’ll never let a man win.”

  She rolls her eyes. “A tired argument.”

  “I mean it! You say you don’t feel well. I agree and you get mad at me. I bet if I told you that you look great and it doesn’t seem like there’s anything wrong, you would accuse me of ignoring the way you feel, or play it down, something like that. There’s no winning.”

  “Anyway, we should go. You probably just need some rest. I’ve been keeping you up.”

  “Oh.” Her face falls. “I was hoping you would keep me up again tonight.”

  Something stirs inside me. I look at the hectic color in her cheeks. “We’ll see how you feel when we get to the house.”

  Cole

  An hour later, we’re sitting on the couch with a movie playing on the TV. She’s curled up next to me, her head on my lap, bundled up under a handmade blanket. I’m stroking the top of her head and wondering how something so simple could feel so good. Her hair smells of apples. I could stroke it forever. I don’t even know what we’re watching, but it doesn’t matter. We’re having too much fun picking it apart.

  “Oh, my God. Somebody got paid to write this crap?” she giggles.

  “Hey. At least everybody is pretty. Pretty people don’t have to say things that make actual sense.”

  She giggles again. “I do like the costumes.”

  “Yeah, they’re okay.”

  “Except nobody who’s supposedly poor would wear something that fancy.”

  “Oh, you’re a costume expert now, too?”

  “I have my interests.”

  She goes back to paying attention to the movie, and I go back to stroking her hair. She lets out a satisfied little sigh and moves around like a cat, stretching and wriggling to get more comfortable.

  It shouldn’t happen, but it does. I wonder how many other men have been in this position with her. Something so innocent, but it wouldn’t seem so innocent when it was anybody but me. I imagine that jerk-off from last night. Was he ever the guy sitting with her head in his lap, watching a movie and touching her hair? Did he guide her head to other places in his lap?

  Did she go? Did she give in to what he wanted? No. I take a deep breath and tell myself to chill out. He’s nobody to be jealous of. None of the other men in her life are worth being jealous of. If there are any. I know her. I’ve known her since she was six years old. Fame might change people, but I can’t believe it changes their basic nature. It’s not in her nature to be that way. She still has that veneer of innocence, like there’s a shell around her and none of the bad shit can get through.

  Even so, my hand tightens into a claw, and she notices.

  “What’s wrong?” She pushes herself up on her forearms and twists a little so she can look me in the eye. “Are you okay?”

  Her eyes are so wide and innocent. It’s like she’s staring into my soul when she looks at me the way she is. I hate the thoughts I was having. I hate doubting her, wondering what kind of person she is. She doesn’t deserve it. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I smooth the hair back from her face and tuck a strand behind her ear. “You okay? Feeling any better?”

  “I think so. I just needed this. You know. Time to relax and just be.” She sits up and leans on my arm. “I’m glad it’s with you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re the only one I could ever do this with,” she murmurs with her head against my shoulder. “You think I’ve ever been able to sit down and watch a movie and make snarky comments about it? It’s not much fun when you’re talking to yourself.”

  “No other movie buffs in your life?” I can’t help myself from fishing.

  “No. And you know it. Smartass.” She shakes her head with a wry smile and goes back to watching the movie. So do I. It’s enough for now. What we have right now, right here at this moment, is enough.

  Then she climbs into my lap, facing me, and winds her arms around my neck. This is better. I rest my hands on her hips, only a thin pair of yoga pants between my skin and hers. She presses her body against mine.

  “What about the movie?” I murmur as our mouths brush tantalizingly against each other once, twice.

  “What about it?” Her tongue darts over my lips and I groan. “I’ve already seen it—besides, you’re much, much more interesting.” She rolls her hips in circles over my crotch and I’m hard in an instant, aching for her. She smiles when she feels me growing, and rubs her pussy harder against me. I slide my hands up over her sides, taking her t-shirt with me, and she lets go of me just long enough to raise her arms over her head so I can take it off.

  She raises herself off my lap, breaking the precious contact, to present me with her breasts. I slide my tongue in circles over her nipples until they tighten into peaks, then suck them one after the other. She moans my name, running her fingers through my hair, tangling it, pulling it, and sending bolts of lightning from her fingertips to my dick.

  I need more of her.

  My mouth takes inventory of her soft skin, her sweet scent. I lower her to the cushions and trail slow, wet kisses down her flat stomach, down to the waistband of her pants. Her hips are rolling the way they were when she was in my lap. I hear her panting and whimpering, whispering that she needs me, that she wants more. I slide my fingers under the waistband and pull the pants over her hips, down her thighs, until her lean legs are bare. She parts them, and I run my hands from ankle to hip, loving how exceptionally soft and smooth her skin is.

  “Take me,” she whispers, looking up at me with half-lidded eyes.

  I lower my head until it’s between her legs and her scent is all around me, pulling me in, drawing me closer. Fuck it. My mouth is watering. I have to taste.

  “Mmm … yes …” She arches her back and holds my head in place with both hands as I slide my tongue over her slick cleft before going deeper. She moans and writhes, and her body is like a wave, undulating beneath me until I have to hold her still so I can pleasure her. When she comes, her cries fill the room and her thighs squeeze me like a vice.

  I drive myself into her. She wraps her arms and legs around me and holds me tight, ma
king me wonder where I end and she begins. I go deep, as deep as I can, letting her ride me as I ride her. Our bodies work together, moving in sync, building up to something bigger than the two of us. When we come, we come together, gasping and grunting and gripping each other like our lives depend on it. Maybe they do.

  “I don’t know how it’s going to work out for us either, but I want to try again. With you,” she whispers.

  I feel so happy it feels as if my heart will burst. This is all my dreams, my birthdays, all my Christmases wrapped up in one perfect moment.

  Taylor

  I’ve spent the night in his arms. The whole night with Cole wrapped around me, holding me close, protecting me from anything that might come along. Now, I hear him walking around the bedroom. I lie still, eyes closed. I’m in that sweet spot between being asleep and awake, just drifting along. I don’t want to leave it. Real life has been sweet lately—very sweet—but this dream where I’m married to Cole is even sweeter.

  I feel young again. I really do. I’m happy. I feel happy and light and I am so incredibly glad to be alive. There is nobody here who wants to take advantage of me. I want to savor the moment.

  I wonder what he’s doing. He’s trying to be sneaky. He always was a sneak. He’d buy me presents and pretend that we just came upon them in the woods. I still have that pretty love heart locket that we just happened to find under a fallen leaf. Maybe he wants to surprise me. The thought makes me smile, which of course gives away that I’m awake.

  He sits on the edge of the bed, close to me. I open my eyes and my smile dies. He is fully dressed. I start to feel sick. I didn’t expect him to leave so soon, with no fanfare. There I was, thinking he wanted to make me happy. Stupid Taylor. You should’ve known better. “Where are you going? Are you leaving?”

  His beautiful eyes sweep over my face, reading me like a book. “I’m not leaving. I’m just going to town for a minute.” He strokes my cheek with his fingertips, then cups my chin in his palm. “You have to learn to trust me, Taylor. I’m not leaving. Ever. This is it for you. You are stuck with me forever.”