Promise Me Forever (Top Shelf Romance)

by Kate Stewart

  “Daddy, can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  “Why do they think you killed Uncle Art?”

  Daddy killing my godfather should never have been a possibility. They had been best friends and partners for almost twenty-four years. I’ve even heard the story of how they met.

  Daddy saved Uncle Art.

  My father may not have been perfect, but he was loyal. Killing him didn’t make sense.

  “I—I’m not sure I should answer that.”

  What?

  “Don’t you think I need to know?”

  “No, baby girl. I don’t.”

  “Why not?” I barked and drew the attention of the couple sitting at the next table. “Was it money? Is that why you killed him?”

  Normally, he would berate me for the disrespect, but he only sighed. “If anyone deserves a chance to go to college and have a better life, it’s you. Money shouldn’t stand in the way of that.”

  “Dad, I would never have wanted you to sacrifice your freedom or kill your friend for me.”

  Something in Daddy’s eyes changed, and when he spoke, I didn’t recognize him. “Art wasn’t my friend. I learned that the hard way and I dealt with it,” he claimed icily.

  “Why would you say that?”

  He shook his head. “You aren’t to blame for my decisions. I don’t regret it and neither will you.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “Maybe not. But it’s the only one I can offer you.”

  “Well, it’s too late. I already regret it, and I already feel responsible. What if they give you life? You won’t be there to see me graduate. You won’t walk me down the aisle. You won’t meet your grandchildren. You’re not supposed to be in here. You’re supposed to be free.” I dropped the broken shield, and for the second time since they took him away, I cried.

  He tried to offer a smile and failed, but just like the fighter he is, he tried again. This time, his full lips lifted into an easy smile.

  I only wished it had reached his eyes.

  Chapter 1

  MIAN

  One Year Later

  I took one last pass at my hair with the flat iron and topped my primping off with a single coating of strawberry lip-gloss. After careful inspection for my best friend’s benefit, I swapped making kissy faces at the mirror for a nice eye roll.

  “I can’t believe you’re really going to go out with him,” Erin squealed. She’s been my best friend since the sandbox and claims she’s Marilyn Monroe reincarnated.

  “What’s not to believe?” I faked being insulted since the truth was more likely to lead to an argument and an hour of “I don’t get you, Mian.”

  The truth? I was already rethinking this date.

  “Because this isn’t like you. He’s a senior…” She then emphasized, “…in college,” as if I wasn’t already aware.

  “We’re just going to grab dinner and catch a movie. We’re not getting hitched.”

  “He’s the quarterback at Weston and his family’s loaded and powerful.” There was peaceful silence, but I didn’t bask. My count made it to five. “You should let him fuck you.” She then dramatically groaned to make her frustration obvious. “I don’t even know why you’re hanging on to your v-card.” Her face twisted, and for a second, I thought I was the one trying to sell my body for mediocre fame. “I know you’re a romantic or whatever, but the one probably won’t come around for another ten years or so. You might as well give it up now so you’re already experienced if he does.”

  I stared until she turned away to fix her already perfect hair in the mirror. I tried but couldn’t think of a response that wouldn’t end our twelve-year friendship. Erin had always been reckless and self-destructive, and sometimes, I believed corrupting me was her one true goal in life.

  “I’m not holding on to anything,” I corrected. “I’m just not willing to jump into bed with any willing guy.”

  “Guys, Mian.” And then she elaborated. “You’re hot which means they’re all willing.”

  “That doesn’t mean I have to be.”

  “Ugh. You’re so stuck up,” she whined. “So, what are you going to wear?”

  I nodded to the jeans and blouse I had thrown on top of my bed and took one last look in the mirror. I was happy to skirt that ‘stuck-up’ comment. My father always taught me to make smart choices in life despite his. Erin didn’t know my father’s hopes were all I had of what he had left behind. Making them a reality was the only way I felt close to him.

  “No, you are not wearing that. That’s not even sexy!” The red was about as racy and sexy as I was willing to go. I wasn’t committed to this date, but I was willing to play the part to get her off my back.

  “I’m not planning to jump into bed with him.”

  “But that doesn’t mean you don’t have to play the part,” she argued. Erin and I may not stay on the same page, but we somehow read each other well.

  “What part is that, Erin?” I couldn’t keep the bite out of my tone if I tried. We were polar opposites. Our friendship didn’t make sense, but it held on.

  “The part that says, ‘I’m not a total bore.’ You used to be spontaneous and sexy. Ever since your father got knocked, it’s like you lost your sense of humor. Life is still worth living, you know?” I watched her pick up the snow globe my father gave me on the first anniversary of my mother’s death when I was too afraid to admit how much I missed her. She carelessly shook it and then turned her nose up at it as if it wasn’t the most important something to me.

  “Are you saying I’m suicidal?”

  Her tone lacked contrition as she twisted her lips and asked, “Are you?”

  I tried to keep my emotions detached, but it was hard pretending Erin wasn’t right. I was different. My mother’s death and my father’s arrest had stripped away pieces of me until only the necessities remained.

  I was walking and talking, breath and flesh. Nothing more.

  “You know, I think my aunt and uncle will be back soon.” I wanted her gone, and it seemed she couldn’t care less what her words did to me as she unbuttoned her blouse until her breasts were nearly popping out of her shirt. I could swear her nipples were playing peek-a-boo with her collar.

  “Suit yourself.” She shrugged. “But at least take my advice and sex it up a little. You want him to come back for more, not over the hills looking for better. You never know how many other girls are waiting and willing to take your spot.” With a wink and a flounce, she was gone.

  I unlocked my jaw and blew out a breath to calm down, and then spent the next half hour pissed off at her anyway. My mother’s death and my father’s incarceration may have fucked me up, but I was far from dead.

  I still wasn’t dressed when the doorbell interrupted my brooding. I quickly dug around in my closet and pulled out the skimpiest dress I could find, and thanks to my aunt and uncle’s rules, still happened to be dinner and movie appropriate. Their religious views prohibited me from wearing anything that didn’t pass the fingertips. I was just grateful I didn’t get stoned for flashing an ankle. I shrugged into the dress and took one last look at myself in the mirror. The dress was made of dark brown and navy sweater material that hugged my petite frame, emphasizing the little roundabouts I passed off as curves.

  Okay, not curves.

  What I had was more like an angle.

  I tried not to stress too much over my physical appearance. I was more fond of the perception of beauty rather than the way things really are. I could make the world whatever I wanted it to be on a piece of paper. It was the art of my own mind that inspired and drove me.

  Who needed looks when you have that kind of power?

  When the doorbell rang again, I rushed downstairs and snatched open the front door. My heart was pounding while my date, Aaron Staten, son of Senator Henry Staten, appeared collected on the other side of the threshold.

  “For a second, I thought I was being stood up,” he greeted and laughed nervo
usly.

  “Sorry. I didn’t hear the bell,” I lied. I didn’t want to give the impression I was trying too hard. He already had the upper hand being older and popular.

  His gaze trailed over my body, and he took his time appraising me. It made me even more anxious to get this night over with—I couldn’t care less if he appreciated how I looked.

  “You look beautiful.”

  I nodded and offered a polite smile. It was more than what I expected, but maybe he felt obligated to compliment me. It would have been awkward not to after blatantly checking me out. I took in his blue collared shirt and freshly laundered jeans and said, “You look even cleaner yourself.”

  “Thanks. I shaved,” he said. I tried not to look surprised since I hadn’t even noticed. I didn’t really think he had facial hair to begin with to make shaving necessary, but I appreciated the gesture nonetheless. “Shall we go?”

  “Yes. I’m starving.” I stepped out and locked up.

  “Actually, I was thinking we could hit up my frat brother’s party tonight. He’s turning the big two-one.”

  My brain was screaming abort while he smiled obliviously. Partying with a bunch of college kids with someone I barely knew wasn’t smart, but I didn’t know how to decline without appearing lame. Erin would have jumped at the chance.

  I nodded and followed him to his car.

  This was my chance to prove Erin wrong, blow some steam, and forget that today was exactly one year since my father told me goodbye. I hadn’t seen him in a year since he was found guilty. He forbade me to visit, and I couldn’t find it in me to disobey him after the unexpected rejection.

  Fuck him.

  “You look nervous,” Aaron stated as we parked.

  “I’m not nervous, but I am having second thoughts,” I admitted. When we arrived on the outskirts of campus, the two-story frat house painted blue, gray, and white with Greek letters prominently displayed was crawling with people. Music poured from the speakers inside the house, turning this side of campus into a nightclub. It took five minutes, and by that time, I was really having second thoughts. Drunken guys lingered around even drunker, half-dressed girls who made me feel severely overdressed in my sweater dress and boots. It was freaking January, yet most of them strutted in miniskirts and crop tops.

  “Why? You’re here with me. It’s the safest place in the world.” I ignored Aaron’s attempt at being charming. He hadn’t noticed since his attention was now on a freakishly tall, thin guy with shaggy brown hair. He held a red solo cup as he called out Aaron’s name repeatedly while stumbling in a drunken stupor across bodies littering the yard.

  “What’s up, man? I see you brought food to a dinner party,” he remarked as his eyes devoured me. My skin felt like it was being attacked by a million tiny bugs.

  “We’re on a date,” Aaron answered, making his gaze shift.

  “So, you brought her here?” I guess his brain wasn’t completely fried if he had more date etiquette than his friend did.

  “Yeah, she didn’t mind.” His tone suggested he wouldn’t care either way if I wanted to be here. “What are you drinking?”

  “A little of everything. You and your lady should grab a cup.” He tried to appear suave, but he was too drunk to sound like anything but stupid. Inside, there was a makeshift bar littered with open bottles and discarded cups. “Mian, you drinking?”

  Common sense told me to decline, but the need to self-destruct won. I took the cup he offered and took a healthy swig. If I were going to get through this ‘date,’ I’d need alcohol. It wasn’t my first rodeo, so I figured I could handle myself if I needed.

  Unfortunately, my weak bladder was near bursting after my third cup and a few dances.

  I shifted away from Aaron’s exploring hands and shouted over the music, “I need to pee!” I got a few dirty looks from girls of the slut persuasion, but I was too wasted to care. Aaron chuckled and took my cup. I stumbled up the stairs, and after nearly falling in a closet and walking in on a couple going at it, I finally found a toilet.

  I was already peeing as soon as my bum met the cold seat and was relieved I’d worn a dress. I had no idea how much time had passed, but a knock on the door jarred me awake. I realized I must have dozed off so I quickly cleaned up and opened the door. Aaron stood on the other side, leaning against the jamb and wearing a cute grin.

  He may have annoyed me at the start of the date, but the booze definitely warmed me up to him. I hooked my arms around his neck and fell into his muscular body. He was hard in all the right places, and then I blushed when I realized that all of him was hard. He lifted and carried me away before I could kiss him. Maybe I was in rougher shape than I thought. Maybe I turned him off. Maybe…

  I felt a pillow like softness beneath me and lazily looked around. We were in someone’s bedroom. Before I could question anything, he fell on top of me and moved between my legs.

  I let him kiss me knowing if I were sober, there was no chance I would have allowed it. He gently ran his hands down my sides but then grew too bold too quickly and began to push my dress up. The drunk induced fog cleared and I pushed at his chest. My heart stopped when I felt his grip tighten on my waist as I struggled to escape from under him. I was ready to scream when his lips finally lifted from my neck. He stared down at me as he took deep breaths in and out. He looked like he was considering something in his head.

  Finally, he stood, and I watched as he adjusted himself in his jeans. He looked pissed, but then his expression changed to boredom. “I should take you home. I’ll be downstairs.”

  And then he was gone.

  I was relieved as I tugged my dress back into place and ran my fingers through my hair. I should have stayed true to my initial decision about him. His willingness to continue our ‘date’ ended now that it was clear my virginity wasn’t on the table.

  Well, fuck him very much.

  I stomped downstairs, feeling a lot more sober than I had coming up only to see him holding another solo cup and talking up some blonde.

  Of course.

  Why not go blonde, right?

  The girl who presently had his attention looked like a guaranteed fuck. If I had my own way home, I would have left him to it, but instead, I awkwardly ended their verbal fuck fest by clearing my throat.

  Her smiled dropped, and his gaze barely skimmed my forehead before he turned back to the blonde and whispered something in her ear. Whatever he said caused her to giggle outrageously. I’d been with him for all of two hours and not once found him that funny.

  “I guess I’ll be in the car then.” I didn’t wait around for a response and made my way through the dancing crowd. After checking my phone, I realized I only had thirty minutes until my aunt and uncle would be home. I was prepared to extend my curfew by an hour as part of my rebellion, but now that the rush was gone, I wasn’t as willing to give my Aunt Gretchen an excuse to go off on one of her religious tangents.

  I found Aaron’s Mustang and tried the door, but it was locked. Fifteen minutes later, he sauntered from the house swinging his keys and whistling. He still held his cup as he unlocked the door and sat inside.

  “Would you mind?” I gestured to the cup. There was no way I’d trust him or anyone to drink and drive with me as a passenger. “I’m not comfortable with you literally drinking and driving.”

  “Oh. Shit. I forgot I still had this. Drink it for me, will you? I probably shouldn’t have anymore.” I gazed at him suspiciously as he added, “If I go back inside, it will be another fifteen minutes before I make it back out. Your curfew is at midnight, right?”

  He had a good point, but I couldn’t outright ignore the alarms going off in my mind. It went against everything my parents managed to teach me before they were both stolen from me. “You didn’t spike it or anything, did you?”

  “Why would I do something like that?” he asked while staring ahead. His jaw tightened as he quickly pulled away from the curb. Maybe I insulted him. Before I could apologize, he barked, “
Hurry up. We can’t have this in the car.”

  “Just toss it out the window.”

  “It’s a college party. Cops are always nearby. I don’t want to get pulled over for littering and have them figure out it was alcohol. My dad will kill me.” Right then, we passed a cruiser waiting along the darkened part of the street. I snatched the cup and quickly downed the contents. I had to lean my head back when I felt the alcohol heat my blood and fuddle my brain.

  The last thing I remember was Aaron glancing my way, sporting an accomplished grin and lust in his eyes.

  Chapter 2

  MIAN

  Eighteen Months Later

  “Mian, we have to let you go. This isn’t working out.”

  I turned my face just in time to save myself from his smelly spittle. Jerry had a disgusting habit of spraying his words all over his victim’s face. The sweat sticking to my face from my two-mile run and his saliva was a deadly concoction I wanted no part of. Everyone knew to give Jerry wide berth when he was speaking to avoid being assaulted by his fishy saliva. I, however, made it my mission to kiss Jerry’s ass as much as possible. Shifts were hard to come by at the small diner.

  “Mian? Did you hear me?” I was too busy holding my breath to avoid as much of his to hear anything he’d said. Seriously, how can his breath always smell like fish when he never actually ate any? According to him, he wasn’t a fan.

  “Are you breaking up with me?” It was a weak shot at humor, but that was because I refused to use tears. It seemed my desperate attempt to make it to work by running two miles had proven fruitless. I pulled my white dress shirt from my sweaty skin and smiled, but it was weak.

  I couldn’t lose this job.

  This was my fifth job in less than six months.

  “I’m sorry, Mian. You’ve only been here five weeks and have repeatedly been late or have failed to show up at all.”

  “Jerry, please don’t do this. I’ll work an extra shift for free tonight, just please don’t fire me. I can’t lose this job. I have Caylen.” I was counting on tonight’s tips just to make it through another week.