The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1)

by Martin, R. C.

  He chuckles as he pulls my arms apart and scoops me up into an embrace. I wrap myself around him before he speaks. “I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.”

  “What kind of secret?”

  “The kind I can’t tell you right now. I need to get on the road, so you’re going to have to live with it.”

  I squint at him again. “On the road? What road? Sonny—”

  He interrupts me with a kiss. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tonight. After the game.”

  “You’re killing me, here. Are you sure I can’t just come with you?”

  “It wouldn’t be a secret if you came.” He taps my backside and then puts me down. I let go reluctantly. “I love you. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “I love you, too. Will you tell me this secret tonight?”

  “Nope,” he says with a grin, climbing into his car.

  “Fine. Be that way,” I tease.

  “I will.” He winks at me and I watch him drive away before I hurry inside, where I find Addie’s up and dressed for yoga already. She’s in the kitchen drinking coffee and staring at what appears to be nothing.

  “Got any left over?” I ask, pointing to her mug.

  “Hmm?” she hums as she comes to.

  “Coffee, AJ, is there more coffee?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She sets her mug down and turns to pour me a cup.

  “What were you thinking about?” She doesn’t respond right away and I scoff in irritation. “Really? Another secret? I haven’t even had a chance to have breakfast and already my day is filling up with them!”

  “Roman kissed me,” she spits out as she hands me my coffee. I almost drop it before I discard it on the counter behind me for safe keeping.

  “Excuse me?”

  “And I kissed him back.”

  “Shut. Up.” I stare at my other half as my jaw goes slack. I study her, trying to figure out what she’s thinking, but I can’t tell. She looks neither guilty nor remorseful, panicked nor anxious; in fact, she doesn’t appear to have any of the emotions that I would image she would have, given the magnitude of what has happened. “Okay, I didn’t mean that literally. Is that all I get?”

  “Don’t tell anyone,” she says, her face still reading as impassive. “Especially not Sarah—not until I figure out what I’m going to do.”

  “Wait, what?” I ask, her comment taking my shock up a notch. “What do you mean, figure out what you’re going to do? You’re not planning on a repeat performance, are you?” She shakes her head and offers me a shrug. All of a sudden, I no longer like Roman. Not even a little bit. “What about Beckham?” I ask defiantly.

  “I don’t know, Ave—I don’t know. I haven’t figured it out yet.”

  “What is there to figure out? I thought you were waiting for him!” Now I’m fighting the urge to put Addie in the same camp as Roman. Or this woman who appears to be Addie. Verdict is still out on that one. I can’t believe her answer to my question about Hammy is I don’t know. How could she not know? He’s the love of her life, last time I checked. I mean, I knew that she might be falling for Roman, and I’m aware that she and Hammy aren’t exactly dating right now, but whatever might be going on between her and Roman doesn’t negate the five years she’s invested in her otherwise wonderful relationship with my supposed-to-be brother-in-law!

  “Maybe I still am. I don’t know,” she says, pulling me from my internal rant. “Look, just, don’t tell anyone, okay?” I’m speechless. Absolutely, one-hundred-percent, speechless. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got yoga.” She leaves and I feel like I need to go to bed and start this day over. So far, none of it makes any sense.

  Last night, when Roman and I said goodbye, we didn’t talk about the kiss. He didn't kiss me again, either. I can’t say whether or not I wanted another kiss, but I am sure that he’s making it harder and harder to exist in this space where nobody talks about how they feel or what they want. That’s all I can think about. Only, I’m still not sure what I feel or what I want.

  Well, that’s not entirely true.

  I wish he hadn’t treated the kiss like it was normal. It didn’t feel wrong or forced or anything like that; and the look he gave me when he pulled away seemed to express all that he wasn’t saying—but what if that wasn’t about the kiss at all? What if that was about the performance? Or maybe it really was about the kiss and he knew that I wouldn’t want to talk about it so he just moved on from the moment not wanting to tarnish it.

  Maybe he needed the kiss because he doesn’t like that I don’t want to talk about it.

  Needless to say, as I listen to his velvety deep voice echo in the studio, that kiss and my feelings and Roman are about all I can think about. It’s amazing I am able to transition from one pose to another without losing my balance and falling on my face every other minute. I barely even register when class is over and I’m still lost in my head when I see a familiar pair of feet at the end of my yoga mat, which I am currently rolling back up.

  “Hey. How do you feel about breakfast?” he asks when I stand.

  I open my mouth to speak, but the only thing I can think about when I look into his dark brown eyes is that kiss. I remember his lips were just a tiny bit chapped and thicker than Beckham’s, and the hair over his top lip tickled against my skin and—

  “You’re staring,” he murmurs as his lips curl up into a smirk.

  I feel my cheeks warm and I chastise my face for mistaking me with my twin. Then again, maybe the blush means I want another kiss? I’m still trying to decipher what my body is telling me when I feel his fingers slide their way around the nape of my neck and into my hair. I watch as he licks his lips and lowers his face to close the distance between my mouth and his. He comes slowly and when he’s close enough for me to practically taste his breath, I gasp and turn my face away from him.

  “Addie?” he speaks softly. I can tell by the nearness of his voice that he hasn’t pulled away from me yet.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. Now I have to say something, whether I want to or not. This moment calls for words that formulate an explanation. “I don’t know what I want, Roman. If you kiss me, I’ll feel like a terrible person for taking advantage of you.”

  He chuckles and then presses a kiss against my cheek. “You couldn’t take advantage of anyone, least of all me.”

  I look up at him when I feel him return to his full height and he looks just like he did last night. “What are you thinking?” I ask, needing to know.

  “I stole our first kiss yesterday and for that I’m sorry. I plan on making it up to you. If you want.” Again my mouth opens and closes; suddenly I’m impersonating a fish. “I know I said we could be friends, but things have changed between us over the last few weeks and you can’t deny it. I just wanted you to know what I want. If you don’t want the same thing, I’ll know why—but I’d always regret not being honest with you. Okay?”

  All I can manage is a lame nod.

  I was not expecting any of that.

  What the heck? When did my life become so complicated? The whole point was to not lead him on. Is that what I’m doing now? When my stomach growls, I remember that he mentioned breakfast; despite my growing hunger, I feel it best if I head home. “Um, I’m sorry, I think I need to get going. Raincheck on breakfast?”

  “Sure,” he says, taking a step away from me.

  I turn to head for the exit and then stop. “Roman?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you,” I say, meeting his gaze over my shoulder. “Thank you for telling me.”

  He simply nods and then heads towards his things. I wish I could give him more, but I can’t. Not yet.

  I was her first kiss. It’s a memory that I’ll never forget. I was nervous as hell but I went for it anyway; the smile that lit up her face when I pulled away made me so glad I didn’t wait a second longer.

  Now? Now I have a different memory that will forever be seared into my brain.

  I can’t help but wonder if that was their first
kiss or their third kiss or their one hundredth kiss. The way she let it happen, it looked as though she wasn’t surprised or the slightest bit opposed. That’s what kills me—the familiarity. One second. It took one second for my whole world to come crashing down. I thought worrying about med schools was my problem. Forget about med school; whatever happens with that will be fine, now or later. Addison, though—I’m losing Addison now. The realization that she’s not waiting for me makes me sick to my stomach.

  I’m in love with her. It’s always only ever been her. Even when marriage was something I was afraid of, I didn’t want anyone else. But I wasn’t ready. That’s all the breakup was—I just needed some time. Time with myself, time with God, time with…life. I’m not the same man that I was at the end of last semester. I’m not even sure that I can describe what makes me different, it’s just something that I’m aware of. I’ve been asked to let go of so many things. There have been situations and circumstances that I’ve wanted to manage and God has just been telling me to let go. It’s not the funnest lesson to learn, but I’m trying.

  Trust. That has been my struggle. And just when I think I’ve got a good grip on understanding that God will take care of me and I don’t have to worry so much or plan so meticulously Every. Single. Moment—just when I accept that things might not go my way, but that’s okay because God’s way is better—this happens.

  Suddenly, my life is a cruel joke.

  “Earth to Beckham!” I’m pulled from my thoughts only after I feel Grayson’s heavy hand smack against the center of my chest. I look beside me, where he sits in the driver’s seat, and mutter an apology. “What’s going on? I thought you were looking forward to the game? You’ve been acting weird all day.”

  “I am looking forward to the game. Sorry, my head has been other places.”

  “Is it about school? Have you heard anything?”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head to emphasize my answer. “It’s Addie.”

  “What about Addie?” He turns down the radio, signaling me to elaborate.

  “I want her back.”

  His gaze shifts from me to the road—twice. “Hell, yeah!” he laughs. “That’s awesome.”

  His enthusiasm makes me feel better and worse at the same time. “Gray, I think it’s too late.”

  “What are you talking about?” He furrows his brow in confusion but keeps his eyes on the road. “You two were together for almost five years; you’ve only been broken up for five months.”

  Hearing someone else say it—out loud—makes this betrayal more real. I can’t really think of it as anything less than a betrayal. Part of me, a really small part of me, realizes that we broke up because of me. I helped to create this mess. I let her go. But I didn’t let her go! I didn’t—and a bigger part of me, the now broken part of me, knows that I told her that it wasn’t going to be forever. I told her I was doing this for our future. Our future. I promised her that it wasn’t about seeing other people, when that’s what she was afraid it was, and what does she do? She turns around and starts seeing other people. No. Not other people. Roman. What does it say that it only took five months of us being apart for her to discard everything we had for someone else?

  “Beck. Stay with me, man. What’s going on? Why is it too late?”

  “She’s with Roman, now,” I mutter.

  “Bullshit,” he exclaims without a second’s hesitation. “That can’t be true.”

  “Well, unless my eyes are lying to me, I saw her kiss him the night before last.”

  Silence fills the space between us and my heart sinks a little more. As ridiculous as it might seem, it would have been nice for him to prove me wrong and I’m disappointed that he can’t.

  “I still don’t buy it,” he insists. “If she was with Roman, Ave would know. Not only would she know, but she’d be pissed. Not only would she be pissed, but I would know that she was pissed, thereby, I would know that Addie was with Roman and none of the above is true.”

  “Gray, I saw them kiss with my own eyes,” I argue.

  “One kiss does not mean that they’re a couple. Besides, do you really think Addie would do that to you? Start dating someone else without telling you? I don’t.” I have to admit, he makes a good point—a couple good points. Nevertheless, I can’t shake the feeling that she’s not mine anymore. “Beck, it’s not over until you say it’s over.”

  “Apparently, I already did that.”

  “No, you didn’t.” He shakes his head and chances a quick glance my way. “Look—if she and Roman aren’t a couple, which I don’t think they are, you still have a chance.”

  “Do you know how crazy that sounds?” I ask, interrupting him before he can continue. “Five months ago, she wanted to marry me and now I might still have a chance?” I scoff, appalled at how ridiculous my life has become.

  “Dude, you’ve got to snap out of it. It doesn’t matter how crazy it sounds. Seems to me, if you want her back, you have to fight for her.”

  “Gray…” I pause, thinking back on that kiss. I knew Roman liked her. Perhaps it was naive of me to believe that someone who looks like him would have any trouble getting what he wanted. I just never imagined Addie would fall under his spell. “What if she doesn’t want me anymore?”

  “You’ve got to give her the choice, man.” He absentmindedly shakes his head as he reaches over and fidgets with the fuzzy dice that hang from his rearview mirror. “I’m in love with Avery. That girl is my world—I understand how you feel about Addie. Do you want to know how that happened?”

  I shrug, confused as to where he’s going with this. “Ave is great. I’m sure it wasn’t hard to fall in love with her after the two of you got together.”

  “Exactly—after we got together. We never would have gotten together if it wasn’t for you. Do you remember what you said to me? It was a couple days after you and Addie split. Do you remember?” I shake my head in response. “You told me that she wanted me in spite of all the other guys that would probably be better for her. That day, I just decided, she should have a choice; if she wanted to choose me, then I wasn’t going to stop her.

  “Maybe Addie needs to be reminded that you are a choice. You might think it’s obvious, but maybe it isn’t anymore. Like I said, it’s not over until you say it’s over—until you stand up and fight for her, until you give her the choice of a life spent with you or a life spent with someone else, it’s not over.”

  “Gray—what if she doesn’t chose me?”

  “Then you move on. I know you don’t want to hear that, but if she doesn’t choose you, she’s not who you fell in love with, anyway.”

  He’s right. I don't want to hear that. But what he says is also true and I need to hear it.

  This whole time, I thought I was still holding onto her. When I stopped asking why, I felt like I had let go of everything except for her. I couldn’t stand the thought of letting her go. Now it seems like I have to. I have to let her go and then prepare myself for battle. I have to make her see that she should choose me. I’ve got to get her back.

  Beckham has been acting strange lately. I can’t really explain it, I just feel it, and I’m not sure what to think about it. It’s almost as if every time we’re in the same room, he’s too distracted to be himself. Maybe it’s school related. He still hasn’t heard back from either Stanford or Baylor. Whatever it is, he’s brought it with him to Steamboat. I can’t help but think, as he and Grayson climb out of the front seat, and Ave, Sarah, and I step out of the back, that whatever has got him so preoccupied might work in my favor. I’m not entirely sure what I was thinking when I thought it would be a good idea to go out of town with both Roman and Beckham at the same time and in the same place, but here I am!

  “Holy snicker-doodles, this is not a house,” gasps Avery. “This is a mansion.”

  She’s not wrong. The stone faced structure in front of us is like the size of five houses. Five two story houses with lots of windows and a beautiful wrap-around porch. If the outsi
de is any indication of what we can expect on the inside, then I’m sure we’re in for a luxurious stay. And I was worried that there wouldn’t be enough space for all of us? Yeah right.

  “Hey, Ave,” Claire yells from outside her passenger side window as she and Jackson pull up behind us. “I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about sleeping on the floor.”

  “Who said you were going to have to sleep on the floor?” asks Daphne as she, Roman, and Trevor come to join our group. Avery’s blush gives her away and we all laugh as Gray wraps his arms around her and pulls her back to his front as he kisses one of her rosy cheeks.

  “Okay, guys,” says Logan as she pulls her phone away from her ear and joins us. “I’m guessing everyone is probably hungry after the drive. I was thinking first, we could get out of the freezing cold, then I could give you all a quick tour, we can do room assignments, and then we can figure out something to eat.”

  I’m momentarily impressed with the blonde haired, green eyed, snow bunny that’s doling out instructions. Considering the house, the town, and the weather, I’m sure this weekend will turn out to be nothing short of wonderful. We’re in a winter wonderland. Nevertheless, she’s still not my favorite person, which is another reason why this trip might have been a crazy idea; but what was I supposed to do? Stay home all by myself while all of my friends spent a weekend in the mountains?

  I don’t think so.

  “Shelter and food both sound good to me,” says Trevor. “Roman, help me with bags?”

  Roman is quick to respond and Beck, Gray, and Jack follow suit, insisting that the rest of us go ahead and get out of the cold. We don’t argue, as the sun is long gone and the temperature is below freezing. As soon as we enter the house, my suspicions are confirmed about the luxurious interior. It’s both modern and yet rustic-chic. Each living room—at least, the three on the main level—is filled with plush cream or tan colored couches and dark chestnut leather chairs with warm accent colored throw pillows and blankets that are probably perfect for cuddling under when the fireplaces are lit.