Page 12 of Broken Promises

A cheeky grin crossed his lips. “Duly noted, but I’m not trying to sweet talk you into anything. Someday, we’ll be dancing like this at our wedding.”

Behind me, Luke cleared his throat. I whirled around. My cheeks flushed like I had been caught doing something highly illegal.

“Here’s some clothes for you. It’s all I have, but it should fit you,” he said, handing over sweatpants and a black t-shirt. I grabbed the clothes from him, and our hands touched for a fraction of a second, but that was enough to make me shiver. “The bathroom is just there. There’s a shower in there too. I put a towel in there if you would like to take one. Unfortunately, I only have three-in-one shower gel…”

“Luke,” I groaned. Some things never changed, apparently. No matter how much I tried to convince him that products like that sacrificed quality in at least one of their supposed functions, he swore by them back then. And now.

“Don’t judge me until you try it.” He put his hands up. “If you toss your clothes out, I can put them in a bag for you.”

“Thank you,” I said softly before heading into the bathroom, desperate to put some space between us. The photographs certainly had memories flood my mind. Why did he still have that photograph of us hanging on the wall? Did that mean he wasn’t seeing anyone? I couldn’t imagine any woman being okay with a photo of his ex-girlfriend in his living room.

Locking the door behind me, I looked around the bathroom. It was simple yet elegant—like the rest of his home. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, staring at my reflection.

“You need to get a hold of yourself,” I whispered. This was precisely what I wanted to avoid. I was supposed to be this sophisticated woman who left her past behind her and was now living in a big city and had a great job…but also had a shitty boyfriend and no place to live, apparently.

I couldn’t delve deeper into everything wrong with my life now. Instead, I stripped off my clothes and tossed them outside the door before starting the shower. I pulled my hair into a messy bun on top of my head but suspected the moisture would do its thing and make the curls even more prominent. And I knew Luke would like that. My curls were always one of his favorite things about me.

The warm water relaxed my tense muscles, but it did very little to clear my mind. I should have seen this coming, coming here and poking at my past like that. I took my time, not quite ready to face him yet.

Once I was confident I pulled myself together, I slipped into the clothes he gave me. Instantly, his scent hit me. How was it possible that he smelled so similarly to how he did all those years ago? And, more importantly, why did his scent remain so embedded in my mind for a decade?

The shirt he had given me was one of his beloved oversized shirts that I always used to try to steal away from him when we were younger. I was surprised that he still had it, considering hehad grown well into his muscular frame. Wearing this shirt was likely the closest I’d ever come to having him embrace me again.

luke

. . .

When Lucy exited the bathroom,I sat on the couch and waited for her. My clothes were certainly not her style anymore, but I couldn’t deny she looked beautiful. I stood up, approaching her to inspect her further while keeping a respectful distance between us.

“I can’t believe you still have this shirt,” she said, tugging at the black fabric. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun on her head, which I had always loved. “There isnoway you can still fit in this.”

“You’re right,” I admitted, taking another step toward her. She stalled in her spot, observing me. “It doesn’t fit me anymore. I kept it because it reminded me of you.”

It was an honest admission of my feelings. For as long as I could remember, I envisioned her back in my life, wearing that exact shirt. It felt like somewhat of a dream to have that happen again. If it was, indeed, a dream, I didn’t want to ever wake up. I wanted to stay trapped here for an eternity and never leave her side.

“Luke…” She trailed off. The words fell from my lips before I could fully think through what I would say.

“I’m sorry. I can’t possibly tell you how sorry I am for all the hurt I’ve caused you. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t hate myself for it,” I told her, reaching for her cheek. My thumb trailed over her flawless skin. She was so soft, so warm, and every inch of me itched to be closer to her. “I have thought about you every single day for the past ten years. You haven’t left my mind for a damn minute, sweetheart. I need you to know that.”

The yearning that had accumulated over the past decade guided my body, and I had very little say in what I did. One moment, I towered over her, and my head dipped lower the next. My lips found hers, and I kissed her tenderly, hoping to tell her everything that had remained unspoken for the past decade. I expected her to push me away, but she didn’t.

And that only made me greedier.

My arms bracketed her slender body, my hands on her hips as I pulled her closer. The most primal need to have her awoke inside me, and I had a sneaking suspicion that it had no intention of ever leaving. A small moan escaped her lips, coming out muffled against my lips and carrying away any last shreds of self-control that I once had. I was a starved man, and she was everything I ever wanted.

We stumbled backwards until her back bumped against the wall behind her, our kiss growing more heated with each second. I found the hem of her sweatpants, about to pull them down when she finally broke free from the spell of our kiss and tilted her head to the side.

“Luke, stop,” she said, and she didn’t need to tell me twice. Instantly, I stepped back, giving her some space as the realization of what had happened sunk into my mind. I cursed at myself and the fact that I allowed my lust to overcome my true intentions.

The last thing I wanted was for her to think I was trying to get into her pants. I wanted to make this work. I wanted us to have aproper shot. And now, I was faced with the possibility that I may have messed it all up.

“I’m sorry, I just?—”

“It’s fine.” Lucy held her hand up to stop me from talking. She took a moment to draw in a deep breath before she finally dared to look me right in the eyes. “Thank you for everything, but I think I should go. I’ll give you your clothes back once I wash them.”

“Give me a second, and I’ll put your clothes into?—”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll come pick them up when I drop yours off,” she spoke over me. There was suddenly this need in her to put as much distance between us as possible, and I didn’t like it the slightest bit.

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