Page 2 of Promise Me Never

“I think you’re supposed to say something along the lines of nice to meet you when someone introduces themselves.” The tiny smirk trying to lift his lips has no business being as attractive as it is.

I scoff and look out the window, dead set on not interacting with this jackass a moment longer than necessary. Luckily, he turns on the truck, and music fills the cab. I gather my long, dark waves into a ponytail as he lowers the windows.

I’m glad for my UCLA hoodie as cool mountain air blows around us, the heat of the spring sun also taking the edge off the chill. I prop my arms on the open window and rest my head on my forearms. An unexpected sense of peace fills me as we wind our way through the mountains.

I always loved coming to visit when I was little. Until I was in eighth grade, my parents both taught at the University of Colorado, so I was able to come out here more often. I love watching the sunset over the Pacific, but there’s nothing like being surrounded by mountains.

I’m pulled from my reverie by the sound of my phone chiming with a text notification from Amber.

Find any cowboys to ride yet?

I literally just landed

And? Time’s ticking, if you want to lose that V card you have to move quick

I’ll keep that in mind

Her texts remind me of Brandon, the guy I’ve been hopelessly obsessed with for the better part of a year now. He flirts with me relentlessly, calls me over late at night to hookup, but always stops things before sex. He has a weird thing about not sleeping with virgins. I don’t understand, and he won’t explain it.

And another gentle reminder, I don’t think you should do this just because of Brandstain. I just know it’s what you want.

I love you

Smooches babe

She’s right. This isn’t about him, or at least not solely about him. I haven’t had sex because I’ve been focused on school for so long. I’m not a rebel, so I put everything I could into academics to try to squeeze any love out of my parents. I just never thought about sex or dating until college, when it’s everywhere.

I don’t have big expectations for sex, especially my first time. I’m not saving myself for marriage or waiting until I fall in love. I’m just looking for someone who I trust and share mutual respect with. Someone hot would be nice, too.

I glance over at Luke, taking in his profile as he drives. He’s definitely off-limits based on his shitty personality to begin with, but the silicone wedding band on his left hand cements that. Whoever he’s married to must be a fucking saint to deal with his grumpy ass.

As if he can sense my thoughts, his jaw clenches, and he grips the steering wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white. I’m glad the ranch is big; hopefully, this is the one and only time we’ll be forced together. I’ve been looking forward to this summer way too much to have it ruined by anyone, no matter how nice they are to look at.

* * *

“Eli.” Gramps holds his arms open wide as soon as I step out of the truck.

I run into them, wrapping my arms around his solid frame and feeling as small as I did when I was a little girl and he’d carry me around on his shoulders. My eyes water as he rocks me back and forth, the scent of leather and peppermint surrounding us. He’s always given the best hugs. and you’d never guess he was in his eighties by the strength in his arms.

I’m vaguely aware of Luke carrying my bags into the house as Grandma comes out the front door wiping her hands on a dish towel. She moves a bit slower now that she’s had both her hips replaced. She hits Gramps with the towel when she reaches us.

“My turn with the baby.” She elbows between us with mischief in her eyes. “How’s my favorite grandchild doing?”

“Your only grandchild, you mean?” She feels smaller in my arms than I remember. Like she’s shrunk with the passage of time.

“Same thing.” She releases me from the hug but keeps her hands on my shoulders. “Look at how beautiful you’ve become.”

“We’re going to have to beat the boys off with a stick.”

“Hardly,” I say with a laugh.

“How was your flight?” Gramps asks as he tosses his arm over my shoulder and leads me into the house.

“Uneventful.”

“The perfect type. I have cookies in the oven,” Grandma says as the front door closes behind us.

The smell hits me as soon as she finishes the sentence. No one makes cookies like she does, so instead of going up to start unpacking, I go straight into the kitchen to grab a warm cookie off the rack. Right as I bite into the soft, melty goodness of the chocolate chip cookie, I hear her call Luke into the kitchen.

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