Page 22 of Promise Me Never

She’s quiet on the drive for all of about three minutes, and then I hear a sniffling sound. I look over and to my horror, she’s crying. Wet tracks line both of her cheeks as the tears fall silently.

My stomach tightens. Tears have always, always been my undoing. I don’t know what to do, and I hate it.

“What’s wrong?” I ask quietly.

“Nothing.” She sniffles.

“Just tell me.”

“You’re going to roll your eyes or be a grumpy asshole.”

“I won’t roll my eyes.”

“Or be a grumpy asshole?”

“No promises.”

She releases a strangled laugh and sniffle combination. “I feel like I’ll never be wanted.”

Her words pinch my heart.

“Not by my parents. Not by the guy that I like but am too inexperienced for. I just want a moment of feeling wanted. Of being desired. Of being enough.” She looks out the window into the inky black night. “And now no one in this town is going to give me the time of day because you hauled me off like a bale of hay in front of everyone.”

Her words shouldn’t please me, but they do. I’ll never admit to anyone else, but I love that people will now see her and think of me. It’s not something I should act on, and maybe that’s fucked up, but she’ll be better off in the long run.

“You know what you should do to make it up to me?” she says as I pull in front of her grandparents' house.

“What?” I ask as I get out of the truck and walk over to her side.

She stumbles into my arms and slides down my body. My hands grabbed onto her where I could, which was the backs of her thighs. I can feel the swell of her ass against my thumbs and even though I tell myself I should move them, I don’t. It’s been so long since I’ve felt the touch of a woman. Even as my cock grows semi-hard, I hold her pressed against my body.

“You should be my first.”

Nine

ELI

* * *

Iknow what regret tastes like. Lukewarm Coors Light and three tequila shots mixed with vomit and a suggestion that can’t be taken back. Even as my head pounds beat by sluggish beat with my heart, I can’t help but relive the last five words I spoke to Luke.

You should be my first.

Fuck me sideways eight different ways to hell. Ironically, what Luke willnotbe doing. Why did he cart me away from the party like some dumbass caveman? More importantly, why did I like it? He’s unavailable in every way possible, emotionally, physically, and most likely way out of my league. Plus, he is a widower. I’m not equipped to deal with that.

My stomach roils as I turn onto my side and out of the ray of sun that’s beating down on my bed. I shut my eyes tight as I swing my legs to the floor and push to standing. The room spins a bit as I drag my hungover ass to the bathroom. Maybe a shower will help me feel human again.

I grab my toothbrush first because the fuzzy feeling in my mouth has got to go. Just that little thing helps me feel more human. I turn the shower on cold because I don’t know if I can handle hot water right now. The freezing spray helps chase the remnants of the hangover away as I quickly wash my hair and body. I don’t have it in me to do anything with my hair, so I work my comb through it with some leave-in conditioner and then twist it into a braid.

The smell of Grandma’s maple bacon assaults me as soon as I hit the stairs. I take it as a good sign when my stomach doesn’t revolt at the scent. She smiles at me as soon as I walk into the room. It’s just her and Grandpa sitting at the table.

“Go ahead and make yourself a breakfast sandwich,” she instructs. “There’s some fresh squeezed orange juice, too.”

“How was your night?” Gramps asks as I assemble my breakfast.

“It was good. Pretty uneventful.” I take a quick test bite of the bacon to make sure I can handle eating a strip. My stomach doesn’t churn, so I break the strip in half and set it on top of the eggs with a slice of heirloom tomato. “How was your night?”

They share a secret smile before answering at the same time. “Good.”

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