Page 30 of Promise Me Not

There’s a baby in there.

Our baby.

Oh my god, I’m sixteen and pregnant.

Our eyes lock, and a softness falls over his, one that has panic rising in my throat, but then Mason’s hand slides into view. Slowly, I tear my gaze from Deaton’s to meet his.

Mason lets out a low chuckle, tipping his head with a grin that draws a small smile to my own lips. “You with me?” he asks, and I get the sense he can see it, my need for an escape.

I sweep a hand toward the band, and the two of us fall in step together.

“Hey, Mason!” Deaton calls not five seconds after we break from the others. We glance back, and Deaton’s eyes lock with mine. “You got my family in your hands.”

My lips part, my heart pounding wildly. That burning sensation I hate pricks at the backs of my eyes, so I slowly face forward, breaking the connection, and after a silent moment, Mason does the same.

I don’t know what he’s thinking, but I don’t care enough to ask, and we don’t speak as we move closer to the giant circle of string lights and laughter. The band members have taken theirspots behind the mics, and as the song playing ends, the DJ welcomes them back to the makeshift stage.

They waste no time before strumming on their guitars, playing an acoustic version of “Feels” by Kiiara.

My lips curve, and then a wide chest is blocking my view.

I look up to find a grinning Mason, his arms outstretched as if he’s midwaltz, minus the dance partner. “Dance with me.”

With a spirited sigh, I take his hand and place the other on his shoulder, his other gently landing on my waist. We step to the music, at least a dozen others around us doing the same thing, though not separated like they’re at a middle school dance the way we are.

My eyes keep going back to the band, and I watch the lead singer’s fingers as they drift across the strings of his guitar in fluid motions. Up and down, ring finger to pointer to middle, and too many other various versions to track.

“So you’ve got a thing for musicians, do you?” Mason follows my line of sight. “I’m telling Richie Rich.”

My chuckle is low, and I shake my head, looking up into Mason’s brown eyes. “No, I don’t have a thing for musicians, and sorry to burst your bubble, but Deaton isn’t the jealous type.”

“Clearly,” he scoffs, and I roll my eyes playfully.

He’s not being an ass, just teasing, so I ignore his Richie Rich comment.

He’s not wrong, though. At first glance, Deaton screams money. He looks like the typical private school kid with khaki shorts and a Hollywood smile. His skin is flawless and his eyes the color of dark chocolate. His family has more zeros in their bank account than all the James Bond movies combined, but none of that matters to him. In fact, he hates it. Hates his family.

I’m all he can count on in this world, same as he’s been for me.

Sure, I have my brother, but after my dad left my mom, everything changed. I was too young to choose, and she tore me away from everyone, threatened them if they had any contact with me, and since she no longer had my brother’s life under her sharp, wide-stretched claws, she took mine.

She stole my dad from me, then my brother and my friends. She even took my body, molding it into what she wanted it to be. She left me with nothing but a sick, twisted need for her acceptance. For the love she refused to give.

It wasn’t until I found Deaton that I realized it wasn’t that she refused but rather that she had no idea what the word even meant. Strangely, neither did I until I felt it for myself.

The love I’ve come to know is supportive and kind. It’s safe and…honest.

“Hey.” The softness in Mason’s tone catches me off guard, and I look up, waiting for him to tell me everything will be okay, that having a baby is a blessing, even at sixteen, even if I haven’t decided what I’m going to do. “Want me to kick his ass?”

My muscles freeze instantly, and then an unexpected laugh falls from my lips, his words the furthest thing from what I imagined. Mason starts laughing, too, and when he stretches our hands high above my head, I let him twirl me around a little.

Maybe things won’t be so bad after all.

Maybe Deaton and I could really keep and care for this baby.

Or maybe I’ll screw it all up and end up just like my mother.

CHAPTER NINE

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