Page 10 of Promised Love

“How are you here?” he asks carefully. “Your parents would prefer to keep you surrounded in cotton and bubble wrap. They act as if you’re more delicate than glass.”

His words hit hard. A knot of emotion forms in my throat. “I’m not a china doll.”

“Don’t be a jerk, Santi.” Chiara smacks her brother’s arm. “And don’t spoil our mood.”

Santino gives us a long look and then shakes his head. “Okay, then. Let’s go over some rules.”

“Rules?” I snort. “We’re free birds tonight. We’re not listening to any rules.”

But he goes off with his list nevertheless. “No leaving my side.” He raises a finger up in the air. “If we get separated, it’ll be almost impossible to find one another.”

I hold up my cell phone, reminding him we aren’t living in the Stone Age.

“We have no service here, Ms. Technology.” He shows me how his phone doesn’t have a signal. “Second, no drinking.”

“We’re underage,” says Chiara. “Have you forgotten?” Like me, she looks like she’s ready to make a run for it. We can’t wait for Santino to finish this stupid list.

“Yes, but people get their first taste in places like this. So don’t forget what you just told me. You’re underage.” He moves a finger between us. “Also, all our parents would throw me in jail if I brought you both home drunk.”

I snicker. “Mine certainly would. But can we please go now?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” He opens his door, and Chiara and I are already at the entry gate when he locks the car.

Santino shows our passes to the man who has muscles for days, and then we skip inside.

“Wow! I’ve never been to a cooler place.” I can already feel my heart beating in sync with the crowd.

“You could have concerts like this at the inn. You’ve got enough space.” Chiara looks around.

“Mom would have a heart attack if I even thought about it.” I bite back the feeling of guilt that has erupted at the mention of my parents.

But for just one night, I want to act my age and not as my parents’ china doll, as Santino pointed out.

* * *

Chiara and I can’t stop our feet from tapping as Santino drives us back home. The energy and the music from the concert are still pumping in my blood. “Holy shit! Thank you so, so much, Santi.”

“You’re welcome.” He chuckles. “When did you tell your parents you’d be back? The show went longer than I expected.”

As it was my first time, I had no clue how long a concert normally lasts. It was a local band, but we have high hopes they’ll be famous someday and put our small town of Cherrywood on the map. Which is why I have all their autographs in my purse right now.

“Hey, you! I asked you something.” Santino throws a quick look over his shoulder before staring straight ahead.

“What did you ask?” I flutter my lashes at him in the rearview mirror.

Please God, let him not remember.

“Your parents—what did you tell them?”

“Um, I told them…it would be late.”

Chiara turns in her seat to face me. “Why are you running your hands over your arms?”

Her eyes meet mine, and I silently beg her to keep her mouth shut.

“Autumn Smith. Don’t you fucking lie to me,” Santino demands from the driver’s seat. His eyes are wild, and he almost gapes at me in the rearview mirror. “They don’t know. Do they?”

I shake my head. “They didn’t agree, at least not to me going without them. Can you imagine going to a concert with your parents? Who does that?”

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