Promise Me

by Samanthe Beck

  “I didn’t invite her.” It’s darker back here, but I can see her gaze dart over my shoulder and then drop to our feet. “I invited you. The only person I want to catch up with is you.”

  “Look, whatever is going on between us is…”

  “Undeniable?” I suggest, because if she says “complicated” right now, I’ll have to prove her wrong. So much for the heart-to-heart I promised myself we’d have. I’m not sure I can handle it.

  She sighs. “Pointless is the word that springs to mind. We don’t want the same things. We have very different goals.”

  “You don’t know what you want,” I point out. “You came here this summer to think.” I’m not trying to argue with her, but these are words straight from her mouth.

  She lifts her chin and stares into my eyes as if she’s searching for something. “I can’t do that properly if my mind’s constantly on you.”

  “Has your mind been constantly on me, Kendall?”

  I can’t hold back my smile when she responds with a very exasperated, “Yes.”

  I don’t have any magic words to make her let go of her worries and cut herself some slack. All I know is she’s a good person, and she makes me want to be a better one. “Maybe right now you’re not supposed to be thinking about anything but this…”

  I kiss her.

  She’s rigid for a second, and then melts against me with a small sigh. I cup her jaw and take us both deeper. Her lips part for my tongue, and I lose myself in an addictive combination of peaches, rum, and Kendall. A big-brother voice in the back of my head wonders how much she’s had to drink, but then her fingernails rake through my hair and big brother shuts up. She rises onto her toes and kisses me back with an urgency that tells me she doesn’t want to think about this too much, either. Just go…go…go. And Jesus, I’m going, because her tongue’s sliding over mine, and the soft scrape of her nipples against my chest brands me through her dress and my shirt. Next thing I know I’ve got my hand under her skirt, holding her tight little ass, lifting her higher as I kiss my way to her ear.

  “I owe you an apology.”

  “For what?” She angles her face so her mouth finds mine. She rocks her hips, seeking, offering, demanding. It’s all I can do not to tear her panties off and give us both some relief, but I want to give her more. She deserves more.

  “I owe you an apology for not walking away with you back there, because it made you doubt. And that was wrong. It’s you I want, Kendall. Don’t ever doubt that.”

  Her hands fist in the front of my shirt and pull my mouth back to hers. This isn’t something she wants to talk about.

  “I’ll show you.” So saying, I back away.

  “Vaughn—”

  And drop to my knees.

  “Vaughn?” All the impatience leaks out of her voice. She says my name like a breathless question. I can’t help but smile.

  “Yes?” I wrap my hands around her hips and lean forward to kiss her through the dress. Her body heat surrounds me. I inhale so deeply I taste her in the back of my throat when I swallow.

  Ten fingers sink into my hair and hold fast. “Wh-what are you doing?”

  “Showing you how much I want you, so there’s no room for doubt in your mind.” I scrunch her dress up and kiss her again through silky white panties. Her eyes go huge, and then the lids drift down.

  “Oh, God.”

  I lean in for another kiss. Her fingers tighten in my hair and her hips shift away, but the wall brings her up short. And I’m not easily discouraged. I put my mouth against her. “Tell me this is okay.”

  “It’s oh…kayyy.” The word trails off as I angle my head so my lips brush her clit. I slide my tongue lower, over her slick, wet panties. She gasps, and her hips jerk so fast I almost lose my grip on her, but then she comes surging back for more. I give her more, and more still. I’m just as desperate for this as she is. I’m delving everywhere now. Over the panties, under the panties—hard, fast, soft, slow—switching it up to drive her out of her mind. Her head’s rolling back and forth against the wall, she’s chanting my name and pulling my hair like she intends to rip it out in handfuls, and I can’t get enough of the pain because it means she’s beyond manners, or reserve, or her impressive self-control. Making Kendall go wild is my new goal. I want it to go on and on, but the way she’s calling my name in ragged little pants tells me she’s not going to hold out much longer.

  “Believe me?” I ask and rim her with my finger.

  “Yes,” she says breathlessly.

  I put my tongue to good use on the throbbing little spot that makes her moan and circle her opening faster. I want to be inside her when she comes. Just a couple fingers, so I can feel every flutter. Every spasm. I want her body hugging me with grateful abandon as I send her over. I push two fingers in deep…and she sucks in a hard breath. Not the good kind. The holy shit, that hurts! kind.

  I immediately withdraw. “Are you okay?”

  She scoots away from the wall and quickly readjusts her clothing.

  “Hey,” I say, and stand slowly so as not to freak her out. “Talk to me. I’m sorry if—” The rest of my sentence gets caught in the back of my throat because her eyes are brimming with tears. I’m confused and concerned until it dawns on me. She was so tight. Like maybe…fuck.

  “Are you a virgin?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I just…I can’t do this. I made a mistake.”

  “You don’t need to be embarrassed. You just took me by surprise.” Dammit. “Look, I can take it slower. Much slower—”

  “No.” The word comes out fast and a little hysterical. “It’s not you. It’s me. Shit. I can’t believe I said that again.”

  But she’s not laughing at herself this time. She’s not laughing at anything. She’s on the verge of crying. “I’m not the person you think I am. You think I’m good and…innocent. I’m not. Not in the ways that really matter. I’ve done things I can’t undo, and trying to pretend I’m free doesn’t change anything. I’m not free. I don’t know if I’ll ever be free.”

  Her words come in a torrent—painful and ragged like they’re tearing her to pieces. “What are you talking about?” I keep my voice as calm and low as I can manage.

  She wraps her arms around herself as if she’s freezing on this eighty-degree night. “It doesn’t matter. I have to go. Sorry I ruined your party.”

  “You didn’t ruin anything. I’m sorry if I—”

  “Stop. Please.” She shakes her head. “Leave it alone, Vaughn. For both our sakes, just leave me alone.” She turns on her heel and takes off.

  “Kendall?”

  She doesn’t so much as pause. I want to chase after her, but I don’t, because I can’t bear to be the cause of the look in her eyes.

  I don’t understand what just happened. I don’t know what I did wrong or how things went sideways so quickly. I know only one thing. Whatever she was trying to tell me matters. It matters a lot.

  Chapter Twelve

  Kendall

  I step out the front door and down the walkway on a caffeine mission to the coffee shop at the bottom of the hill. Sleep once again eluded me last night, the culprit a birthday boy with the power to tie me in knots comprised of want, need, and curiosity that overrides my uncertainty. I hate the way I left things with Vaughn last night.

  I acted immature. I am what I am, and I’m pretty sure he knew before he touched me that I didn’t make a habit of hooking up. What Vaughn did was make me feel. Physical urges I haven’t felt since Mason, but also emotions I’m not sure I’m ready to deal with. I’ve kept myself closed off from anything too intense for a long time, always in control of my body and mind, but Vaughn threatens my control without even trying. I can’t write it off as a standard female reaction to a chiseled jaw and a billboard-worthy assemblage of abs, chest, and…ahem…other male attributes displayed to perfection in snug boxer briefs. NYU had its share of gorgeous guys who occasionally earned a second glance, but never a second date. What draws me to V
aughn runs deeper. He asks, “Can I trust you?” and I’m toast. I want to know his secrets, and that scares me. I want him to know my secrets, too, and that scares me even more, despite—or maybe because—sharing those secrets means giving up control. And losing control with him feels incredibly right. It gives me…hope. Hope that I can find happiness with someone again. Happiness with myself, too.

  So just be with him already, right?

  It’s not that easy. His concern and patience last night when he discovered I’m still a virgin were very reassuring, but also stark reminders that he doesn’t know all there is to know about me. If he knew why I was a twenty-two-year-old virgin, how would he look at me then? Would he still want me? Without knowing the answer to that question, I couldn’t be with him. And that’s all I could focus on in that moment—that I shouldn’t be there, letting him assume I was some kind of good girl when I’m the furthest thing from good. I’d needed to escape. From him, from my past, from having choices Mason doesn’t. I glance up at the light-blue sky, wishing for the thousandth time he and I had made a different decision that night.

  With my sudden mood flip, I figured Vaughn would run for the hills. Only he didn’t. Instead, he had the decency to be concerned. Five minutes after I ran home and into the sanctuary of a hot shower, Amber knocked on the door and wanted to know if I was okay. Vaughn had told her I was upset and asked her to check on me. It had taken another five minutes to convince her I had a skull-splitting headache and needed darkness and solitude to make it go away. I got out of the shower to find a glass of water and two pain relievers on my nightstand, which immediately made me feel guilty because I didn’t really need them. I made a mental note to thank her this morning, but she was gone by the time I woke up.

  I’ve made it as far as the sidewalk when I notice activity at the house across the street. Without thinking, my feet take me over there. Little girls are twirling around the front lawn in princess costumes, giggling. Their arms are spread wide, playfully bumping one another. A big blue plastic tub sits off to the side and overflows with tulle, colorful boas, magic wands, veils, crowns, and sparkly shoes. My fingers twitch. I stare as the mid-morning sun shines down on the dancing princesses like a spotlight, and I’m reminded of my own childhood when my friends and I dressed up and performed for our parents.

  When nothing could touch us, and the applause from our “audience” echoed in my ears for days.

  The tallest girl notices me and stops moving. She’s wearing a Birthday Princess crown to go with her yellow gown. She looks over her shoulder at her mom, I’m guessing, sitting on an iron bench near the front door, then back at me. I smile, give a little wave, and because I don’t want to come off like a creeper, call out, “Hi. I’m from across the street.” I gesture to my aunt and uncle’s house. “I was just out for a walk and noticed you guys playing. Happy birthday.”

  “Want to play with us?”

  Her invitation surprises me until I watch her stare dip below my chin. I look down. Oh yeah. I’m wearing my black Kings tank top with a big silver crown on the front that my aunt sent me after they won the Stanley Cup.

  “It’s Kendall, right?” the mom says, walking across the grass.

  “Right.”

  “Sally talks about you and your sisters all the time.” She puts her arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “Sally says Meg reminds her of you at this age.” Meg does have my same coloring.

  The young girl’s eyes go saucer-size. “Do you like to play make believe?”

  “I do,” I say, unable to stop my smile.

  “Cool. Wanna play with us?”

  I absolutely do. I want to remember what it feels like to be free of all the thoughts clogging my mind and pretend to be someone else for a little while. I step onto the grass. “I’d love to.”

  “You can be Ariel.”

  “She’s my favorite. How did you know?”

  Meg grins with a shrug then takes my hand. Her fingers are chubby, her palm soft. “Come on. You have to get dressed up.”

  My dressing up entails a purple boa around my neck, a green one around my waist, and every bangle the girls own on my wrists. I love that I’m the lone throwback princess.

  “All the girls are in a young ensemble group that meets twice a week,” Meg’s mom says. “This summer they’re performing—”

  “You can go sit down now, Mom.”

  I chuckle, remembering all the times I dismissed my mom when I was young, and am soon swept up in an elaborate story of princess sisters on a quest to find Ariel’s long lost prince. It seems all the other princesses have their one true love already. Before I know it, I’m teaching them little things that my drama teachers taught me. Lessons to improve body awareness and creativity and how to throw their voices. We stretch our imaginations and laugh and twirl, and I’m having a great time.

  I like this version of myself.

  Something behind me grabs the girls’ attention and I turn.

  It’s Vaughn.

  My heart skips a beat. He’s a hundred kinds of distracting, wearing olive cargo shorts, a thin light-green T-shirt that stretches across his chest and shoulders, Nikes, and no visible socks. He smiles and the under-ten set beside me go all smiley in return. He’s a freaking female magnet no matter the age.

  Everything we did—he did—last night crashes into my mind, and despite my panic attack when I left him, I’m happy to see him again. By the sexy twitch of his lips and awareness in his eyes, I think he’s glad to see me, too. No doubt my cheeks are flaming brighter than Red Hot Cheetos.

  “Hey, neighbors,” Vaughn calls out. “Is this a no boys allowed zone or can I join in?”

  “You can be Prince Eric!” Meg shouts with excitement. The other girls squeal.

  Stick a tail fin on me and toss me into the ocean, because I’m pretty sure I’d breathe easier under water than I am right now. Vaughn is coming closer, his focus solely on me, and my worries that last night would be the last time I saw him vanish.

  “Hi,” he says.

  “Hi.”

  “Come on, Vaughn,” Meg says, taking his hand. “You have to come over here.”

  I raise my brows at Meg’s familiarity.

  “What? A guy can’t spend time with his neighbors? I’m not even her favorite. Matt’s her favorite,” Vaughn says under his breath before Meg pulls him away.

  It’s really hard to continue being Ariel and teaching the girls things with Vaughn’s eyes on me. I can’t concentrate at all and trip over my own feet twice. Plus, watching Vaughn interact with the kids is adorable.

  Meg’s mom shouts a five minute warning for lunch and my stomach growls, reminding me I’ve yet to eat today. Or get my coffee. When Meg announces it’s time for Ariel to receive the kiss of true love from Prince Eric so they can live happily ever after, chills break out across every inch of my skin.

  I lay down on the grass as directed by Meg, my head propped up with a pillow. Vaughn is instructed to kneel beside me and get busy. We both chuckle, and some of the tension I’m feeling melts away. With my eyes closed, I remember every nanosecond I’ve spent with him. His smell, his touch, his taste, his smile, his eyes. Eyes that don’t just look, they see, and he wants to see me. My body has craved his from the moment we met, but it’s more than a physical want. It’s the way Vaughn makes me feel when we’re near each other.

  Desire alone can be fought. Add emotions and the battle grows a million times harder.

  Vaughn’s warm breath tickles my lips. My eyes fly open, and that’s when he kisses me. It’s soft, sweet, and oh so careful. Despite the way I left him last night—maybe even because of it—he still wants me, too.

  The quick peck isn’t enough, and it’s crazy how much I want to pull him back to me. He takes my hand and helps me to my feet. The girls jump up and down and clap their approval. Vaughn takes a bow, so I do the same. We’re bombarded with hugs before the girls skip away toward the house.

  I walk over to the bin of costumes and take off my b
oas and bangles. When I turn around, Vaughn is watching me. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a hockey fan,” he says with that sexy, easygoing attitude of his.

  “I’m not, really. It was a gift from my aunt.” I stay where I am. Per usual with Vaughn, I’m not sure what happens next. I don’t know how to do this anymore.

  But I do know I owe him an explanation for my behavior.

  We stare at each other. It’s like an addiction the way our eyes can’t stay off each other. I’m dying for him to make the first move. He does.

  “Go out with me tonight,” he says, taking steps closer.

  The invitation catches me completely off guard in the best possible way. “Out?” This could mean a lot of things, and I need specifics. I’m so glad he didn’t listen when I told him to leave me alone.

  “I tried to skip a few important steps last night and almost shortchanged the both of us. I want to take you out on a date. I want to hold your hand. I want to talk and listen. I want to kiss you good night. I’ve got a list of wants, actually, but we’ll start with that.” He stops inches in front of me.

  I swallow the gigantic lump in the back of my throat. Wow. Just wow. His admission makes my knees weak and my heart take notice.

  “Do not ask me why, Kendall. Don’t second-guess this or say there’s no point. You and me? We’re something. I aim to find out what we are. Unless you tell me no.”

  I shake my head, then nod my head, shit, I don’t know what to do with my head. But the answer is yes. Yes, I want to find out, too. I want to trust him. With everything. My secrets. My uncertainties. My regrets. My virginity suddenly seems like the least complicated piece of it. “What time should I be ready?”

  The grin he flashes steals any lingering doubts I have about my intentions toward Vaughn Shaughnessy.