The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1)

by Martin, R. C.

  I stand up and push the cardboard from my bed onto the floor before I reach for my journal and climb back underneath my sheets, fully prepared to start praying for Beckham. I stop and glance at my books before reaching for my phone. I know it’s late. I know he’s most likely sleeping. I know we haven’t been texting each other over the past couple weeks, but I can’t help myself.

  Me: Thank you. I love it so much!!!

  I hit send before I can change my mind and then discard the device on my night stand. I pick up my pen to start writing when I hear the alert signaling his response.

  My BMW: :)

  I can’t help the pinch of disappointment that squeezes the corner of my heart. It’s not enough. That smiley face is not enough—but then I force myself to remember that he already gave me more than enough for my birthday. He gave me hope that we’re going to get through this. For now, I’ll take it. And the smiley face.

  I don’t fall asleep until almost three, but when I wake up later in the morning I feel better than I have in days. As I get myself up and ready to head over to the yoga studio to catch Roman’s class, I let my mind wander and I follow my thoughts in and out of prayers. Today is not only a new day, it is the beginning of a new year in my life and I am aware that I have so much to be thankful for. So I give thanks and I praise the Lord for all the things that I got to experience in my twentieth year and for all the things I will get to experience in my twenty-first.

  I can’t really explain why birthdays are such a big deal to Avery and me. We’ve just always loved them. Maybe it’s because our parents always made a big deal out of ours; maybe because when it was someone else’s big day, we got the chance to go to a party and eat cake; maybe it’s because giving and receiving presents is just so great; or maybe it’s all of those reasons and more. I can see how some siblings might wish they had their own day to be celebrated, but we relish in the opportunity to share the occasion. Beyond that, though, we simply adore any excuse to celebrate and dote upon the people in our lives that we love the most, and birthdays are the best for doing just that.

  Our friends have come to know this fun fact about us, as they have gotten spoiled by us over the years, and so they have planned accordingly for this day. All the guys have to work, but Sarah took the day off to spend with Avery and me before we meet up with more of our friends for dinner and then drinks at the pub. I’m not sure what we’ll do all day, but Sarah has something planned—as only a best friend would—and I’ve been instructed to head straight home after yoga.

  To my delight, I make it through the class without crying. I attribute that to my new state of mind after my wee-hour of the morning epiphany that has me feeling optimistic. Roman notices and congratulates me before asking what has me in such a good place. I simply tell him it’s my birthday and God’s gift to me was abundant peace. The look he gives me tells me that he wants more, but I tell him I can’t stay and chat because I promised Sarah I’d be home. The scowl he gives me makes me giggle—his pushy, curious side perturbed that he won’t get his way—but he’s placated when I tell him that I’ll be stopping by Cooper’s later.

  As I pull into the parking lot of the apartment complex, I see Gray and Ave in their running attire walking home, their hands linked together as she looks up at him. She’s talking animatedly about something and he seems to be listening as if he’s never heard anything more interesting. The sight of them makes me smile. I can still hardly believe that they are finally a couple.

  By the time I get out of my car and make it to the stairs that lead up to the second level of our building, our paths intersect. Avery throws herself at me, engulfing me in a sweaty hug as she squeals. “Happy birthday!” I laugh, returning her embrace and the sentiment. When she finally lets me go, Grayson also wishes me a happy birthday but forgoes the hug, assuring me that he’ll give me one when he’s not sweaty. As we all make our way up to our door, I spot the box that sits just outside. Right away, I know what it is. So does Avery, which is why we both get really excited.

  “I take it that’s a present?” asks Grayson.

  “Yeah. From our parents,” I answer, leaning down to pick up the large package. “Whatever’s inside, you’ll get to see us wearing it later.”

  “You already know what it is? That’s no fun.”

  “Exactly the opposite, actually,” says Avery. “Have you ever noticed that one day every year Addie and I actually dress like twins? Like honest-to-goodness, same-outfit-wearing, twins? Yeah—that would be our mother’s doing. She always tells us that her favorite part about having twins was dressing us up when we were babies. When we were around nine or ten and we got to start dressing ourselves, we opted to not look alike so often. But our mom has reserved the right—as the woman who gave birth to us—to dress us up like her baby girls one day every year. So we always get a new outfit for our birthday.”

  “And we make sure that we get dressed up and take a picture and send it to her,” I finish for her. “It sounds cheesy—”

  “It is cheesy,” Avery corrects me with a laugh and an eye roll.

  “Okay—it is cheesy—but she’s got really good taste in clothes so we never complain. In fact, I’m kind of dying to know what’s inside.”

  “Well, don’t let me keep you. I believe you’re due back about now, anyway.” Avery reaches her arms up, signaling that she would like a hug goodbye, and I grin as Grayson shakes his head at her. “Shorty, I’m sweaty.”

  Aww. He calls her Shorty. How cute!

  “I don’t care even a little bit. Besides, it’s my birthday and—” Her words get lost in a giggle as he scoops her up into his arms and spins her around in a circle.

  “You guys are disgusting,” I say as he sets her back down on her feet. “But I love it. I’ll see you later, Gray,” I tell him as I head inside. I hear him give Avery a kiss goodbye and then she hurries in after me. In seconds, I know that Sarah is up and baking. It smells amazing. I’m setting down the package when I’m startled by Avery’s scream.

  “Claire!? What are you doing here?” My head snaps over to the kitchen where I see her standing with Sarah, a huge grin on her face.

  “Duh. It’s your birthday!” She hardly has a chance to answer before Ave has her wrapped in a sweaty hug. “Eww—you need a shower.”

  “I do, too, but I’m not sweaty,” I promise her before greeting her with a hug of my own. “I thought you weren’t going to be here. I’m so happy you came back.”

  “Well, you have Jackson to thank for that. I am his birthday gift to you,” she says, playfully sweeping her honey brown hair over her shoulder. “Though, before we get started with anything, I have two very important things to address.” She plants her fists on her hips and fixes me with a stare. “You and Beckham? Ridiculous. I don’t care what his deal is, he’s a damn fool for allowing it to come between you. I just hope he gets his act together soon. Until then, you, my dear, just need to be your wonderful self. He’ll come to his senses.” I smile at her, appreciative of her support coupled with her feisty attitude. She puckers her lips as if throwing me a kiss before she directs her attention to Avery. “And you—O’Conner’s girlfriend? It’s about-effing-time!” We all laugh in agreement.

  “Okay. Now that that’s out of the way, onto the festivities! The girls day Sarah and I have planned for you is our birthday gift.”

  “So we get to eat whatever deliciousness I smell?” asks Avery, clasping her hands together underneath her chin.

  “A special birthday brunch will be ready for my Twinkies as soon as you get cleaned up,” Sarah answers. “Now, chop, chop!”

  We do as we’re told and a half an hour later the four of us are having the most amazing meal. There’s eggs, bacon, and what Sarah has dubbed strawberry shortcake french toast. Whatever it’s called, it’s to die for. I eat until I can’t eat anymore. As soon as we’re done, they take us out so that we can get our nails done. We have so much fun, the four of us getting pampered for our night out. It isn’t until we get b
ack to the apartment that Ave and I remember to open our gift from our parents.

  There are four cards inside, one for each of us from both mom and dad. We open the cards first, to Sarah and Claire’s annoyance. It’s in mom’s card that we get a hint as to what she’s picked out for us to wear. She tells us both that at some point, every young woman needs a little black dress; wear it well and as the wise woman your father and I know and love, she writes. Avery and I dive back into the box at the same time, anxiously pulling out the garment bags that hold our dresses. They are gorgeous.

  Both dresses are indeed little and black with a lace overlay. Mine has a single strap made of only the black lacy fabric. Avery’s is almost identical, only instead of having one strap, hers has two. Along with the dresses, we each got a pair of heels to wear with them. Mine are a dark pink and Avery’s are a rich teal. The jewelry my mom picked out matches our shoes.

  “Hold the phone,” Sarah exclaims. “Your mom seriously bought you these hot dresses to wear with four inch heels, to boot? Damn, is she a little diva or what?”

  “Now we know where they get their fashion sense from,” says Claire. “Speaking of fashion…” She hops out of the armchair where she was sitting and hurries over to her purse. She’s back in two seconds holding two tiaras with the number twenty-one in the center of each. “I think it’s time for hair and makeup.”

  Claire does our hair while Sarah does our makeup. We both end up with our hair piled on top of our heads in elegant looking buns, our do complete with our birthday tiaras. Once we’re dressed, Sarah is sure to get our first picture of the night and we send it to mom right away.

  “Holy smokes. If I hadn’t seen you two open your gifts, I wouldn’t be able to tell you apart,” says Sarah.

  I take a look at the picture she just took of us on my phone and laugh. We do take away pretty much any hint that might help people tell us apart, I note before I draft a quick text.

  Me: I’m in teal tonight, fyi.

  A knock sounds at the door just as I’m hitting send. Claire is finishing up in the bathroom and Sarah hurries to her room to grab her shoes as Addison heads to answer. I grab my black clutch from off of the coffee table, close behind her, anxious to head out for dinner with our friends. I smile at the sight of all of our favorite guys standing outside. They’re in jeans, and yet they each look spiffy enough to have anyone of us four dressy girls on their arm.

  Jackson has on a white shirt with a fitted, charcoal blazer. Beckham is wearing a checkered blue button-up with a striped bow tie and suspenders. He looks really good. I hope Addie will be able to keep her hands to herself tonight; this could get awkward. A smirk pulls at my lips when I look at my sister. Then again, I’m probably worried about the wrong person. I take a deep breath before I allow my gaze to lock in on my guy. The sight of him makes my breath catch in my throat. He’s wearing dark washed jeans with a black vest over a black collared shirt, the first couple buttons left undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His auburn hair is a disheveled mess that makes me want to kiss him silly. I feel myself blush at the thought.

  When our gazes meet, he grins at me before walking around Beckham in order to make his way toward me. He doesn’t stop until his body is millimeters away from mine and his hands are cupped around my burning cheeks. “You, birthday girl, are breathtaking,” he murmurs before planting a light kiss on my lips. I hear his phone alert him to a text and he kisses me one more time before he reaches into his pocket to retrieve the device. “Hmm,” he hums as he swipes his finger across the screen. “My shorty sent me a message.”

  He reads it and then turns to look over his shoulder. It’s then that I realize that he didn’t get my text about what color I was wearing—which means when Addie answered the door, he already knew that it wasn’t me. I follow his gaze and see that Hammy and Jack are now inside. Hammy and Addie are staring at each other like one or the other might pounce; poor Jack seems to be trying to strike up a conversation to break the tension between them as he waits for Claire.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t know which one of you was you?” asks Grayson, pulling me from my thoughts.

  I bite my lip, looking up at him, and shrug. “Sarah said she couldn’t really tell us apart. How could you?”

  “You’re the twin that belongs to me,” he murmurs endearingly, leaning down to press his forehead against mine. “I can see it when I look in your eyes. Besides, if that wasn’t a dead giveaway…” his voice trails off as he kisses my cheek and I grin, understanding his implication.

  I am so falling in love with this man.

  “Ow, ow!” Claire cries. We both look in her direction and find her looking back at us. “You two are hotter together than I imagined—especially dressed like that. Let’s get ourselves downtown so we can get some cute pics before dinner!”

  Sonny reaches for my hand and my fingers curl around his without a single thought. I watch as Addie walks the short distance to the coffee table to pick up her clutch and I see her take a deep, calming breath; I think she might need a moment before we go, so I squeeze Sonny’s hand and then release it in order to head for my sister. “I forgot something,” I announce as I pull her back towards my room. “We’ll be back out in a second.”

  “What’s up? Is everything okay?” she asks me as I crack my door for a bit of privacy.

  “I actually came back here to ask you that. I want to make sure that we have a good time tonight and I know that having Hammy around is both good and hard so I just wanted to check on you and to tell you that I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

  She smiles at me before kissing my cheek. “I love you. I’m fine. I promise. Does Beck look adorably handsome right now? Yes. He can’t help himself. Will I probably stare at him a lot tonight? Yes. I can’t help myself. But I’m in a good place and I’m just happy he’s coming out with us. It would break my heart any other way. Each effort he makes to be my friend is a kept promise. I’m holding onto that. In any case, tonight is about us—you and me—not me and Beck.”

  “Sonny and I—we won’t make you uncomfortable? I can tell him to—”

  “Tell him nothing, except for how dashing he looks,” she interrupts me, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “I love seeing you two together. I’ve waited a long time for it and it makes me happy to watch you fall in love for the first time.”

  I sigh dreamily as a cheesy grin pulls at my lips. “I am falling for him. So hard. Is it that obvious?”

  “I’ve known you your whole life—of course it’s obvious. Now let’s go! He and all of our friends are waiting. There’s no party without the birthday girls!”

  Dinner is delicious and the company is even better. A few of our friends, from church or from school, meet up with us at an Italian Bistro. We occupy a table that can accommodate all fifteen of us and we proceed to talk too much and laugh too loud. It’s perfect and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

  Sarah, who has decided to be our guide as we discover the realm of alcoholic beverages, insists that we start the night with something sweet. She orders us Moscato wine to go with our dinner. Addie and I both enjoy our glass and proceed to feel our first tiny buzz. Wanting to pace ourselves, we drink water until we head to Cooper’s. Since the Italian Bistro isn’t too far from the pub, our group decides to walk to our next destination. The night is a warm one and I enjoy the stroll, my hand tucked inside Sonny’s the whole way.

  As soon as we arrive at Cooper’s most of the girls decide to head to the restroom before getting settled at the bar. I choose to stay with my hottie and snag any available seating we can for our group, which has shrunk a little bit since dinner. Sarah calls out that we should try and snag some space at the actual bar; when Sonny, Jack, Hammy, Claire and I make our way further inside, we notice that there just happens to be four chairs right smack-dab in the middle of the bar. Claire says we should grab them—“Birthday girls can sit and the rest of us can steal stools as they become available, or snag a nearby table.” I obey
and Sonny sits in a stool beside me, saving it for Addie.

  “Oh, my gosh,” I gasp, suddenly feeling like the most insensitive and terrible girlfriend in the world. “Sonny—is this okay? I mean, does my drinking tonight bother you?” I know that he doesn’t drink because he hates alcohol. His dad is an alcoholic and he spent most of his childhood living with a drunk who was barely a father. I know that he goes out with Hammy and Jack and they have drinks, sometimes, but I’m not them—I’m not his roommate or his best friend, I’m his girlfriend. How could I not think to ask this before?

  “What? Sweetheart, it’s your birthday, you can do whatever you want.”

  For a moment, I’m temporarily distracted by the fact that he just called me sweetheart. I like the way it sounds—but I shake the thought away and refocus on our conversation. “I understand it’s my birthday, but I’m here with you and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I don’t know why I didn’t think to ask you this before now. I’m sorry,” I mutter, pulling my eyes away from his as I look down at my fidgeting fingers. I honestly can’t imagine what it was like growing up for him—but I know him now. I know that parties aren’t his scene and the pub is the only bar he ever goes to and that’s probably because all of us love it so much and because the pizza is fantastic and there are games that we can play. But I—

  “Hey, look at me,” he demands as he reaches out and wraps his fingers around my waist. He doesn’t speak until my eyes lock with his. “You’re not my dad. You’re not addicted to the drink. It’s your twenty-first birthday—I totally expected that you would drink tonight. I’m the one who’s here with you. I fully intend on having my eye on you, keeping you hydrated and making sure you’re fed. I want you to have a fun night but I also want to try and prevent you from having a hangover tomorrow. You and I have a date and I don’t want you to have any excuse to back out.”