I Promise You

by Madden-Mills, Ilsa

  She hesitates, giving me a harried, worried look, then scurries out of the room, her skirt swishing as she shuts the door.

  Dillon stands with me. “Anything else, Headmaster?”

  He blinks, darting his eyes from me to Dillon. He opens his mouth, shuts it. “Fine. I’ll compromise. Five days of detention after school. She’ll have to sit out this week’s competition.”

  I’ll take it.

  “Thank you,” I say to the headmaster as Dillon opens the door for me.

  We don’t speak until we’re outside on the sidewalk.

  “We work well together,” he murmurs. “By the way, you’re badass. The way you told Romy to go to class, the way you tossed in the reporter thing—”

  “Why did you come?” My head spins, reeling from the confrontation and the fact that he showed up to help. I shouldn’t be surprised since he came to the tryouts, but this feels different.

  “Because I care, Serena.”

  My heart skips a beat. I lick my lips as my eyes dart over to him, taking in his chiseled jawline, those broad shoulders, his searching eyes.

  “Where’s your car?” I ask, my voice low.

  His breathing deepens. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “Hmm.”

  “In the back of the lot. My windows are tinted super dark. Like pitch black. No one can see a thing. It’s probably illegal for them to be that dark.”

  “Lead the way.” My legs move faster, following him.

  We reach his car and I fidget as he pops the locks. I jump in the passenger side and unbutton my shirt with fingers that shake. My skirt is off in five seconds. I leave my underwear and boots on, impatiently watching as he whips his shirt off and unbuttons his pants. He doesn’t get them down fast enough, and I pull at them, jerking his underwear and shoes off and tossing them to the floor. He undoes the laces on my boots and throws them over his head.

  We don’t speak, our breaths fast. He crawls to the back and pulls me to him. I straddle his hips as he unsnaps my bra and sucks a nipple into his mouth, lashing it with flicks of his tongue then moving to the other. I roll my hips against his hard length, and he hisses.

  “I want you so bad…” he says breathily. He kisses me long and hard, his fingers digging into my hips as my body clenches. “Think we’ll get suspended?”

  “Might get arrested.”

  “You’re a rebel,” he murmurs.

  “You like it.”

  “Fuck me, I do. Serena…” he groans and kisses me like a man who needs me to breathe. “You slay me.”

  “Let’s do this fast.”

  “Not too fast.”

  “Make me come, football player.”

  “My pleasure.” He rips my thong into pieces and I nearly combust right there. We fumble with a condom, barely get it on, and he sinks inside me. We pause for a second, both of us exhaling. He holds my eyes, slides out, and fucks me hard, using his hands to pull me up and down. He pants, his chest heaving as sweat dusts his skin. I can’t breathe as he bites my shoulder then presses a delicate kiss there.

  His fingers dig into my scalp to get closer, but we can’t be any closer. I’m consumed with every nuance, his deep thrusts, my name on his lips, the flutter of his lashes. I take his mouth and suck on his tongue.

  He palms my breasts, his fingers rolling my erect nipples. I moan, my head dropping back as my hips swivel to meet his, rubbing my clit against his pelvis. Incomparable passion roars like a lion in my veins.

  He wraps his arms around me as we fuck. “Never. Get. Enough,” is wrenched from the depths of his throat as he yanks on my hair, pulling me to him for a scorching kiss.

  This. Him. Us.

  Is it crazy that I want everything?

  24

  Several days later, I park in front of Serena’s apartment. I’m exhausted and rattled from our away game Saturday against Ole Miss, which we barely won. I missed her in the stadium. Since the LSU game, the Gazette requested she only report home games.

  Serena.

  I twist my hands around the steering wheel as tension rolls over me. I think about her at the oddest times, when I’m in class, in the library, the locker room. I dig her quirkiness, her smirks, her complexity, the way she takes care of Romy, her banging body…

  I’m wrapped up in her, taking each day as it comes. When I’m with her, I’m on top of the world, but when I’m not, worry creeps in. Like now.

  The challenge… I worry it’s going to drive a wedge between us if she finds out. A long exhalation leaves my chest. She might even break up with me. Fear lances through me as I scrub my jaw. I can’t lose her; I just found her.

  I kick the worry down and head to the front door of the house. Nancy meets me wearing jorts, an AC/DC shirt, flip-flops, and a straw hat with pink roses and ribbons that hang down the back. A button is pinned on the front and reads Don’t Hula Hoop Without A Bra.

  “About time you got here! Who shows up late for a day trip with the granny—for her birthday? Go inside and get my beer.”

  I laugh as I wave the dozen pink roses in my hand. “I brought flowers. Happy Birthday!”

  She clutches them, taking a big sniff. “Good boy.”

  “How’s Turo?”

  A sigh of disappointment comes from her. “Not coming. He delivered my gift last night. Did I tell you he’s Italian? When he says mozzarella, I melt. Oh, that’s funny.”

  I dig her family. Nana is a hoot and Romy is great. Julian hasn’t spent time with me yet, so that’s still up for debate.

  She hands me back the flowers. “Put them in a vase for me? They’re under the sink. I need to go check my hat again. Don’t forget my beer. It’s in the kitchen in the good cooler.”

  “Where are we going?” I ask as we walk inside the house.

  “How do you feel about ostriches?” she calls over her shoulder as she disappears down the hall.

  I answer even though she’s gone. “Birds, in general, are vicious monsters—”

  “Dude, you’re scared! Yeah, Serena let it slip,” Romy says gleefully as she joins me in the foyer. She’s wearing jeans and a Magnolia Prep green shirt. She gives me a fist bump.

  “Dillon McQueen is a warrior. He fears nothing,” I say. “Also, birds are evil.”

  Nancy comes out from what I assume is her bedroom. “I need you to drive. Is it okay if I bring Betty? Buster hates birds like you, so he’s staying home.”

  A dog in my sweet ride? I just cleaned it. “Where are we going, again?”

  A gleam grows in her eyes. “Safari park.”

  “In Mississippi?” My voice is incredulous.

  “Yep. Some elk, buffalo, camels, llamas. Can Betty come? It is my birthday and you’re dating my granddaughter—the best one.”

  “Hey!” Romy says. “Right here!”

  “You’re my favorite too,” Nancy says and pats her head.

  I smile. “What’s dog hair when llamas are scratching my car?”

  “Knew it. Keeper,” she says then sashays past me and out the door.

  I make my way through the house, taking everything in. The furniture is faded but cared for, the counters spotless, the wooden floor shiny. I grab the ‘good’ cooler, a ragged Styrofoam container that looks like it’s more duct tape than foam. Inside are bottles of Bud Light and ice. “Nancy, I need to introduce you to Fat Tire,” I muse on a laugh.

  “She bought that cooler twenty years ago and treats it like a baby. Something about a man, a concert, and an enlightening afternoon.” A chuckle comes from Serena as she comes down the stairs.

  My chest unloosens as I take her in, some of that worry evaporating.

  She’s wearing a pair of orange harem pants and a cropped top. Her hair is down, the copper shining, and I resist the urge to kiss her senseless.

  “Heard we’re going to see some animals today,” I say.

  “Surprise. Like it?”

  I huff out a laugh. “I deserve that.”

  “You really don’t mind driving? We
can take my car, but I don’t trust it on long trips. Nana’s needs new tires, so—”

  “I don’t mind,” I say.

  We walk out together as I carry the cooler and place it in the back, hoping it doesn’t disintegrate.

  “Not back there, up here,” Nancy calls. “I need easy access.”

  “Alright.” I put it in the middle of the back seat next to her, and she protectively puts a seat belt around it.

  We drive for an hour and a half, passing wooded areas and rolling hills dotted with cattle and farmhouses. I didn’t even know this place existed, but now I notice the signs for the Best Safari Experience in Mississippi. The park entrance looms, and I drive under a wooden sign with two llamas on it, maneuvering my Escalade behind a van packed with little kids.

  I pull into a barn, and a woman in overalls and a cowboy hat approaches us. “How many and how much feed?”

  “Uh, four people, and we brought our own. Stockyard feed,” Serena says from the passenger seat next to me. She holds up an empty bag of animal food.

  The lady squints at it. “Ah, that’s a good brand. You wouldn’t believe what kind of mess a bunch of bison can make after someone gives them a couple bushels of strawberries. That’s thirty-six dollars. Please stay on the marked path and in your vehicle at all times.”

  My eyes flare. “People actually get out?”

  The lady rubs the top of her hat. “Crazy people. Alright, then. Have fun. We’re not responsible for scratches or animal bodily fluids on your car. It was entirely your decision.”

  I huff out a laugh. “Thanks.”

  Nancy hoots as they all roll down their windows, distributing white buckets of feed to the girls. Betty barks, her paws on the door as she gets a whiff of other animals in the vicinity.

  “Where’s my bucket?” I ask.

  Nancy takes a sip of her beer. “You concentrate on not driving through a llama. Plus, you’re gonna be scared when you see the ostriches. It’s okay. We all have fears. I’m terrified of moths. I know, I know, they’re the midnight butterfly, but look at their faces really close—demon eyes.”

  We pull past the first gate and a group of llamas surrounds my SUV, bumping into the sides and braying. One sticks its head in my window.

  Nancy chortles and hands me a bucket. “Take this. He likes you.”

  “Yeah, he wants to eat my finger,” I say as yellow teeth nip at my hand.

  My llama deserts me when I run out of food and darts for Nancy.

  Moving on, we pass deer and buffalo who flick their tails as they doze in the sun. Driving forward at a snail’s pace, we arrive at the camels.

  “Nope.” I roll my window up when one looms. It’s got to be twenty feet tall.

  Serena lets one eat out of her bucket. He sticks his head in all the way to the gearshift, eyeing me, and I inch away. “This dude has demon eyes, Nana,” I say. Funny, I didn’t mean to call her that.

  “Moths, honey, moths. Tiny but brutal.”

  It sniffs my neck, I shoo it away, and when it sticks its tongue out, I groan. “Somebody needs to hose these animals down.”

  “If his jaws bulge up, duck,” Nana chirps. “Sometimes they puke.”

  “What?” I call.

  Romy makes a choked noise and I look back. Her phone is up and she’s videoing.

  “Don’t you put that on Insta,” I protest, shoving her phone down.

  She wipes her eyes, shoulders trembling with giggles. “Oh, Dillon, don’t be a baby. What if it goes viral? You’d be famous.”

  “Already famous.”

  ‘“Football Player Mauled By Rogue Camel,”’ Serena declares.

  I wave at the animal to move. “Get out of my car!”

  “Alexa, play ‘Welcome to the Jungle’,” Nana chirps.

  “There’s no Alexa,” I say, shaking my head, barely keeping up. “It’s Bluetooth. Your Bon Jovi playlist is on. As requested.”

  “Just something we say, honey. Don’t fret.” She pets the dog and smiles at me. “You’re doing good, so good. Vane would have bailed after I asked him to drive. He never was any fun.”

  “Nana…” Serena warns.

  We finally move on, and by the time we circle to the ostriches, I’m determined to prove my manliness and leave my window down. Hell yeah, I’m better than Vane. I eye the creatures carefully. I am not scared of you.

  “Fun fact: ostriches have three stomachs,” Serena muses, her eyes finding mine. “They run up to seventy miles an hour.”

  “Fun fact: contrary to popular belief, they do not bury their heads in the sand,” Romy adds, proving she has a lot of her sister in her. “Probably came about because they tend to hunker and lie low for their prey. Their feathers tend to blend in with the sandy ground cover.”

  “Prey?” I inquire.

  “Football players,” Romy announces.

  Nana coos, “Such adorable animals.”

  “Are you all crazy?” I exclaim on a laugh.

  “We prefer original, honey. And yes, we love all nature’s creatures—until we eat them.” Nana gives me a smirk just as an ostrich peeks in her window. It’s one of the smaller ones, about five feet tall. “Hey there, handsome. You’re a young one.” She smooches at him as he gobbles at her bucket of feed. “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy? You are, sweet birdie, and of course, I’d never eat you—”

  She yelps when he nips at one of the floral accouterments on her hat then snatches it off her head. Betty barks, body quivering as she lunges toward the window. Her nails scrape at my door and Nana hollers, pulling Betty back in the car before she goes over. Frightened by the lunge or the dog, the ostrich darts a few feet away—hat in its beak.

  In her haste, Nana’s knees bump the cupholder, and Bud Light overturns and pours out on the floor. “Oh, my beer—sorry, Dillon!” She shakes her head, in a tizzy, then calls out the window, “Bring my hat back!”

  “Nana! You can’t get out of the car!” Serena yells when Nana tries to open her door. Thankfully, the child safety locks keep her in.

  “Romy gave me the pin for my birthday! It’s a sweet memento, and I reckon I need all of those I can get at my age…” She swallows, a despondent look on her face.

  “Alexa, play ‘Crazy Train’ by Ozzy,” Romy says, watching the ostrich as it prances with the hat, waving it in the air.

  Well, hell.

  I look at the ostrich. He’s only a few feet away, and his friends are on the other side of the car…

  “I’ll get it,” I announce as I open the door and get out.

  “Dillon!” Serena cries, reaching for me as I slam it closed. “Be careful!” she calls out the window then shoves her bucket at me. “Use this to distract him!”

  I am not afraid of this bird, not his teeth or the rippling muscles of his carriage. He’s just a linebacker. Divert and grab. Watch for the blitz attack.

  “Easy,” I say, stretching out my hand. I rattle the food around. He swings his head at me, gives me a beady look, and walks forward.

  I yelp and back against the car. He stops, his long neck pivoting from me to Nana.

  “Hey, little buddy, look at the nice chunky bits of brown. Come on, don’t you want a taste?” I barely manage to say.

  Of you, his eyes reply.

  “He wants the hat,” Nana says with a sigh. “It’s the pink. He wants the pink.”

  Romy giggles.

  People in the car behind us are yelling for me to get back in the car, and I tune them out. “Hand over the hat, buddy.”

  He cocks his head, coming closer. Three more steps and I can reach—

  His beak releases the hat to the road as he pecks at the bucket.

  “Good, good. Alright, that’s right, keep eating…”

  My body tenses as I kneel and swipe the hat with sweaty hands. In a rush, I fling the door open, jump inside, and slam it.

  Cheers sound in the Escalade.

  “You’re my hero!” Nana says as she pulls the hat out of my hand and plops it back on h
er head.

  “I’m envisioning a cape, maybe a bird on your chest. Bird Whisperer? Ostrich Man? No?” Serena asks me.

  I turn to look at the girls, seeing Nana as she smooches on Betty, Romy with her phone, still videoing—and Serena.

  She laughs, and it feels as if there’s no one in the car but us. That thread between us tightens. The world stops, then restarts.

  Anxiety crawls under my skin, warning me that I’m going to screw this up.

  With a deep sigh, I tear my eyes away from her and focus on the road.

  “Why here?” Serena asks me as she spreads the blanket out on the ground. She sits and crosses her legs, her face upturned. She’s wearing one of my practice shirts and a pair of frayed shorts.

  I sit next to her and grab her feet, slipping them out of her flip-flops. “Why do you think?” After the safari park, we escaped to her apartment and took a shower together. Then I suggested an excursion of my own.

  “Mmmm, that feels good.” She leans her head back as my thumbs dig into the arch of her foot.

  “This is where we met,” she says up to the darkening sky.

  I tilt my head to the meadow where the students congregated in front of the band. “You were dancing to the left, over there. I stood on the sidelines and watched.”

  She crawls over to me and lays her head in my lap. Our eyes cling, and we grow quiet, taking in the cool October breeze. Peace. Calm.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  I run my fingers through her hair. “Myles. He loved the outdoors. Boy Scout. He wanted to be a geologist.”

  She touches my leather cuff. “This is his?”

  I start in surprise as I glance down at the quartz embedded in the material. “No, but I bought it with him in mind.”

  “You loved him very much.”

  I look off into the trees. “We were total opposites. He was quiet and reserved. I was the extrovert. Once, the nanny took us to the doctor for our checkups. He goes in the waiting room, sits in the play area, and builds a castle with blocks. She never needed to reprimand him, tell him to sit down, or be polite. Me? I ran through that place like a tornado, tore down his castle, made some little girl cry, then had a pee accident in my shorts and announced it to everyone.