“You’re practically a giant, compared to me,” I say with a laugh. “I could be running at full speed and you’d probably still be walking to match my stride.”
He laughs with me and then pulls his hands from my shoulders. I mourn the loss of his touch only for a moment, and then he’s moving past me and opening the door to my back seat.
“Please come,” he insists as he reaches for my cello. “I’ll help you take your things upstairs and then wait for you to change.”
“You know, I’m perfectly capable of carrying my cello.” I grab my other bag and follow him toward my apartment. He doesn’t wait for me to agree to go running with him and I don’t fight his assumption that I’ve changed my mind and want to go.
“I know you are, but I’m better at it,” he says, smirking at me.
“I used to play the violin; did you know that?”
“Now that is an instrument more your size. What happened?”
“When I was twelve I decided that I liked the way the cello sounded better. I begged my parents to let me switch. My dad agreed under the condition that I be able to carry the cello all on my own. That’s how I got into running.”
“Explain that to me,” he says, his eyebrows knit together in confusion.
“Well, I was twelve—I didn’t have a gym membership but I had to do something to get in shape.”
“Ah,” he hums, enlightenment smoothing out his forehead. “And the rest is history.”
“Precisely.”
The apartment is empty when we head inside. Grayson carries my cello to my room and props it against my desk before he leaves me to change. I’m in running shorts and a t-shirt in no time. “Okay, ready when you are,” I announce as I make my way back out to the sitting room, pulling my hair back into a high ponytail as I go.
“A girl who can be ready in under five minutes. Now that is impressive,” he teases. I roll my eyes as we make our way back outside. “I was planning on doing an easy five—how does that sound?”
I nod in agreement. On my best day, I can run ten, so five seems perfect. Except—“Well, that depends on our pace. You might wear me out before we’ve made it five miles.”
He grins at me as he pulls one foot behind him in order to stretch his quads. His barely-there-dimples kick my heart rate up a notch and I’m wondering, again, if this run is such a good idea. I bend forward, reaching for my toes as I stretch my hamstrings while simultaneously avoiding his stunning green eyes.
“You set the pace,” he instructs me.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
We stretch for another couple of minutes and then we’re jogging our way out of the apartment complex. There’s a trail not too far from where we live and I lead him there. The weather is gorgeous—not too hot, not too cold, with a itty-bitty breeze. We chat as we go, discussing our finals schedules and our plans to start working the week after. Because of his scholarship, Sonny doesn’t have to work during the school year—which is pretty great for him because his football schedule is so incredibly demanding. His summer practice and workout routine isn’t forgiving, either, but with the absence of classes he has time to work. He fills his schedule at a hardware store, which I love, for some reason. I like the idea that whenever we need something fixed around our apartment, and the lousy maintenance guy isn’t quick to respond, we can just call on Grayson to save the day.
When I ask him how his weekend was, I find out that Mrs. Davis was in town and then I understand why he didn’t travel down with Hammy. Jack’s mom is probably my favorite thing about Jack—she spoils all of us when she’s around.
“I’m sorry I missed her,” I tell him. We’re about two miles into our run and my legs are pretty happy with my decision to exercise.
“Do you want to know why she was here?”
It strikes me as an odd question. Isn’t it obvious? Her son lives here—she’s never needed any other reason outside of that, has she? “What do you mean?” I ask him.
“It’s a secret—can you keep a secret?”
I feel my pace quicken with my growing eagerness. His tone implies that whatever he’s about to reveal is exciting and I love those kinds of secrets. “Yes!” I promise.
“She came out to help Jack buy an engagement ring for Claire.”
My feet stop moving. My feet stop moving, but the rest of my body doesn’t seem to get the memo and I lurch forward. Sonny catches me, grasping hold of my forearms before I hit the ground. “He’s going to propose?” I ask, out of breath.
“Are you okay?” he asks at the same time.
“Yes,” I mutter, shaking my head—the contradictory act conveying exactly how I feel. The news has me off balance.
“Yes,” he answers at the same time I do.
A giddy sort of happiness fills my chest as I picture Claire in a wedding dress. I giggle, feeling a bit triumphant and privileged as I now hold onto this precious secret. For a moment, I can’t help but think of Addie and Hammy—I wonder how they will handle the news, as they now live in a constant state of expectation to move in the same direction, and soon. I’m not really worried about that, though. Hammy will propose when he’s ready.
“What are you thinking?” asks Sonny with a laugh, giving my arms a squeeze to bring me back to him.
“Oh,” I shake my head again and laugh. I give his forearms a squeeze of my own before I let him go and start running, again. “I’m thinking that’s amazing and exciting and Claire is going to be a sexy bride and you will be quite the groomsman.” I didn’t mean to say that last part, about him being a groomsman, and I blush when I realize that I actually said it out loud.
“I agree with you—about it being exciting. I’m sure Claire will be a beautiful bride—and you a radiant bridesmaid.”
I trip over my own feet at his words and he reaches out to catch me, again; only this time, one hand grips me around my waist while the other cups the hand I shoot out to catch my fall. He chuckles and my blush grows hotter and spreads all the way to my hairline. I don’t need a mirror to confirm—I’m so hot, I can hardly stand it.
“I’m not sure I’ll be a bridesmaid,” I stammer lamely as he lets me go and we continue along the trail.
“I bet you will be. I know you’re her favorite twin.”
“I am?” I coo.
“Yup,” he confirms with a grin. “We have that in common.”
She blushes for the hundredth time since I first saw her in the parking lot and I can’t silence the chuckle that vibrates from my chest. I’m being reckless, flirting shamelessly, and I know I should stop—but I don’t want to. Spending all weekend with the buzz of anticipation that continues to be Jack’s pending proposal, Avery has been on my mind more than usual—which is saying a whole lot. I keep trying to remind myself that she deserves better than the damaged goods that I am, but even if that’s true, I can’t deny that she’s who I want.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll go back to keeping my distance. Today, I’ll continue with this masochistic behavior—it’s worth it, just knowing that I have the ability to effect her the way she effects me.
When we reach the halfway point of our run, she turns around to head back and I follow her, sticking by my word that I will allow her to set the pace. “Um—when is he planning on asking?” she inquires, steering the conversation to safer territory.
“Friday night, I think. Or maybe Saturday, night. I can’t remember—I just know he’ll ask before she heads home and she’s flying out on Monday.”
“Talk about the best summer break ever. Or maybe the longest,” she’s quick to add. “It might suck being apart from her fiancé for two and a half months with the engagement being so new.” I appreciate that everyone who knows about the engagement talks about Claire’s acceptance as if it’s already been given. Hopefully Jack is as sure of Claire’s answer as the rest of us are and he’s not harboring any unnecessary nerves as he presses through finals week.
I imagine being in Jack’s shoes—o
nly instead of picturing Claire, I picture Avery. If she was my girl, engaged or not, I would have a hard time spending the entire summer away from her. Actually, if I’m being honest, I would have a hard time spending a summer apart from her even now. Thank God I don’t have to. “I couldn’t do it,” I admit, gazing down at her.
She looks up at me and offers me the most adorable smile before she says, “Me neither.” Her words make my lips twitch up into a smirk; my smirk makes her blush; her blush makes me grin and it takes every ounce of will power I have not to scoop her into my arms and kiss her.
We run the rest of the way home in a comfortable silence. It’s after one by the time we get back and I’m starving—for food and for more of Avery’s company. I suggest going out for lunch and she is quick to agree. Wanting to avoid studying for a while longer, we decide to head to Cooper’s for some pizza. We go our separate ways in order to shower and change. I’m cleaned up, my wet hair pulled back into a low ponytail, and clad in jeans and a t-shirt within twenty minutes. She said she’d text me when she was ready, but after ten minutes of waiting, I decide that I can’t wait a minute longer and I head upstairs.
When she opens the door, my heart speeds up at the sight of her—as if I hadn’t seen her only a half an hour before. She’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt, too—the material hugging her in all the right places, making her incredibly more presentable than me. Her feet are bare and her thick hair lays damp down her chest and back. She casts a playful glare at me as she presses her fists against her small waist. “I’m not ready,” she insists. I beg to differ.
“You look perfect.” I mean it. “Just grab some shoes and you’re good to go.”
Her playful glare turns into a sweet smile and she nods for me to come inside. “Just give me two more minutes.” She disappears into the bathroom and when she comes back, I notice that she’s pinned back the front of her hair into a pretty twisted-bump-thing. She slides her feet into a pair of Toms that are sitting beside the front door and grabs her purse. “Now I’m ready. You’re driving!” she announces as she heads outside.
“Hey, wait,” I call out, suddenly remembering something.
“Hmm?” she hums, whipping around in response.
Without a word, I scoop her up into my arms, lifting her from her feet. I hear the breath catch in her throat before she wraps her arms around me. I hold her tightly against my chest, further indulging in my masochistic binge, and pray that she can’t feel my racing pulse. “I owe you two, remember?”
“Mmhmm,” she practically whimpers.
I know I need to put her down, but her grip around me doesn’t loosen, so I hold on for a moment longer. Tomorrow. I’ll be good tomorrow.
Sonny and I spend way too much time at Cooper’s, but I can’t complain. I’m one happy girl when he walks me to my front door and bids me good evening. While part of me wishes that he suggest we study together for the rest of the night, I know that it probably wouldn’t be a very good idea. He must know that, too. After an afternoon filled with playful banter, I’m not sure we’d be able to shift the tone and hunker down into study mode. So when he hugs me goodbye, I cling to him—and the memory of our afternoon together—and then watch him leave.
I find Addie and Sarah on opposite ends of the couch when I walk inside. They’ve both got books open in their laps and they pull their focus away to look up at me at the same time.
“Hey,” I say with a grin. I could play off my expression as happiness to see them, but I know they’d never fall for that. “What’s up?”
Sarah arches an eyebrow as she smirks at me and I know I’ve already been read like a book. “What’s up?” she asks incredulously. “Where have you been, little missy?”
“Hanging out with Sonny,” I say with a shrug as I make my way further inside and join them. I plop down onto the coffee table and try and stifle my wistful sigh that’s dying to be set free.
“I knew it,” she gloats.
“What have you guys been doing?” Addie wants to know.
“We went on a run when I got back into town and then we went out to lunch.”
“Lunch?” Sarah asks, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
“It’s four o’clock, AJ,” Addie says with a grin.
“Mmhmm,” I acknowledge with a nod.
“Sounds like a pretty hot date,” says Sarah.
“It wasn’t a date. We were just hanging out.” I can’t deny, though, that I let myself imagine a few times that it was, indeed, a date. Even now, I wish that I could claim that it was—it was a wonderful way to spend my afternoon. But I’m still not convinced that Grayson has any interest in dating me, so I’ll be sure to wash away such hopes in my dreams tonight. Right now, though, I’m going to bask in my false hope.
“Sure it wasn’t. Where’d you guys go, anyway?”
“Cooper’s,” I say with another shrug. Since it’s a regular hang out spot for our group, I imagine that it’ll work in my favor that we spent our time there, in friend zone territory.
Sarah gasps and I’m startled by her response. “Was Roman working?”
“Who’s Roman?”
“Roman?” Addie and I ask at the same time.
“He’s the drop-dead-gorgeous new bartender. I went in to talk to Henry this weekend about my schedule for next week and I met him. All I can say is—hot damn!”
I laugh and shake my head at her. I’m not positive that Roman wasn’t working, but I can’t say for sure because I was pretty focused on my own guy. I mean, on Sonny…
“What does he look like?” asks Addie.
“Oh-my-gosh—like Paris, prince of Troy.”
“What?” I ask with a laugh.
“You know, from greek mythology? He’s got dark, curly, shaggy hair that’s just long enough to be hot and short enough to be considered clean. His brown eyes are like a pool of lust, I tell you, and his mouth—mmm—sexy lips caged in by a perfectly executed goatee. And his cheek bones? I mean, his whole facial structure—”
“Wow, okay—take a moment, Sar-bear, you’re practically panting,” I giggle.
She shoots me a wicked grin as she fans herself with her hand. “You would be too if you met him.”
“Is he a cool guy? Did you get to talk to him?” Addie asks.
“Oh, yeah. I mean, long enough to get my panties in a twist.”
“Sarah!” she chastises. No one takes her seriously as her reprimanding tone is broken with her laughter. Soon we’re all laughing.
“Just promise me when you go in to get your schedule that you’ll take me with you. If he’s there, I can introduce you, and it’ll give me an excuse to talk to him again.”
“I promise,” she agrees with an eye roll. “Now, can we get back to studying?”
Sarah frees a wistful sigh as she agrees. Her sigh reminds me of the one that’s still caged up inside of me. I leave the room to set it free as I grab my own school work to join them. When I sit on the floor in front of the coffee table, my phone alerts me to a text.
Sonny: I had fun today.
I bite my lip, desperate to hide my grin from the girls as I type my reply.
Me: I did too! Thanks for hanging out with me.
Sonny: The pleasure was all mine. Are you back in study mode?
Me: Yeah. You?
Sonny: Yeah…but I’m not opposed to a little distraction. You?
I can no longer contain my grin. Guess I’ll have a hint of his company tonight, after all.
Me: Distract away.
It’s seared into my brain—the look on her face. When I told her about Jack and Claire’s engagement, which became official last night, she gave me this look and I can’t get it out of my head. That…look—it said everything; she’s ready and she’s waiting. And it’s not just that! While she waits, she’s breaking. There’s doubt and insecurity and impatience and I get it. But I can’t make myself ready. I’m not even brave enough to lie or to fake it until I make it—I’m. Just. Not. Ready. It’s that look, the one
that’s been haunting me all week, that has me sure that we need some time apart.
Admitting and accepting that has been the hardest thing I’ve ever faced in my entire existence. Honestly, it makes me sick thinking about it. When I’m with her, I’m so desperate for her—desperate for another answer, another way—but I’m convinced this is the only way. Or maybe it’s not, but it’s the best way. I know this because despite the week I’ve spent pleading with God for another option, I only feel right about this one.
I’m anxious every time I’m around her. I know she’s not going to take it well; and that fact alone makes me feel this extreme amount of pressure to drop the bomb as gently as possible.
But bomb and gentle don’t belong in the same sentence for a reason.
Not to mention, I’m probably setting myself up for epic failure because I can’t keep my hands off of her. To say that I’m sending the wrong message would be putting it mildly. I can’t help it—I’m going to have to say goodbye to my boyfriend privileges soon and it kills me.
That makes me sound like a total jackass.
“Beck—let’s roll.” I look up and see Gray standing at the door. He’s got bags under his eyes and it looks like he’s exhausted. For a fraction of a second, I forget about my own problems and wonder about his.
“You look like crap,” I say bluntly as I stand and follow him out of the apartment.
“Yeah, well, didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” he says, confirming my suspicion as we make our way upstairs to pick up the girls. “Guess I should have expected that after she said yes, right?”
I chuckle, suddenly catching his drift. Thank God I don’t share a wall with Jackson. On any other night, it would have been obnoxious—but last night, with the week that I’ve had, I probably would have gone mad listening to them make love. I can’t even really think about it right now. I shake away the thought as I reach up and knock on the door in front of us. Avery answers and I notice right away that she looks almost just as tired as Gray, only she wears her exhaustion more gracefully.
The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1) Page 7
