Page 45 of Promise Me Forever

I nod, and the bell that tells us it’s time rings out. He’s sucking on his upper lip, and his gentle smile is uncertain. Is he as nervous as I am? Our eyes meet, and again that strange thing happens: the rest of the world just seems to drop away. It is me and it is him and it is us. Nothing else matters. Nothing else even exists.

Drake’s dark, shining eyes have always held power over me. They have a way of pulling me in and keeping me close. Being given permission to stare into them is an exhilarating experience, especially as we’re not allowed to talk. This is all about silent communication, about acknowledging the person opposite us and facing them without fear. Making ourselves vulnerable. I don’t need a training exercise for that—Drake always makes me feel vulnerable. But he also makes me feel alive, awake to the potential of the world, and aware of my body and mind in a way that is beyond confusing.

We sit, eyes locked, and I completely lose myself in him. Although we’re not physically touching, I feel the heat of the connection stretching between us, a live wire of sensation that threatens to overwhelm me. I can barely breathe by the end of it, and I wonder if he feels the same or if I’m being crazy. Am I deluded, or is his breathing coming a little faster too? What do I really see in his eyes, and what does he see in mine?

If I could send him a message, if I could cut through the white noise and tell him how I really feel, what would my eyes say to him? I want him so much that I ache with it. I respect him. I like him. I… I love him? Could that be true? Or is this merely infatuation?

No, I realize, the shock of it like a slap across the face. I love him. I really do. I’ve been trying to deny it, even to myself, but something about this silly corporate game has stripped away my defenses, and I can’t lie anymore. I love Drake James, even though he can never be mine.

We’re both still sitting cross-legged on the floor when the bell rings again. Tears sting my eyes, and he looks just as intense as I feel. “Drake…” I murmur, feeling the sweet torture of being so close to him and yet so far away.

“I know,” he says on a sigh.

I don’t have time to ask him what it is he knows because the world that didn’t exist a few seconds ago is now coming back to life around us. The next exercise begins. He smiles slowly at me as people start to move about, and it’s a smile that makes me bite my lower lip in anticipation. What exactly I’m anticipating, I have no idea.

He stands effortlessly and holds out his hand to help me up. I feel bewildered and bothered and completely bewitched, and the touch of his fingers on my palm isn’t helping. I pull away, because if I don’t, I won’t be able to stop myself. I’ll tug him down toward me, kiss him, hold him, let myself be swept away in those strong arms…

I’ll tell him that I love him. That I need him. That I’ve never felt like this about anyone.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” one of the instructors calls out. “Time to take a leap of faith.”

I back away from Drake and lose myself in the crush of bodies. The excited hubbub of chatter swallows me up, background noise that I don’t understand. Everything is too loud, too colorful, too much. It’s like the world has turned into a cartoon acid trip, and I’m trapped in the middle of it. I stagger backward, unaware where I’m going but knowing I need to get away from Drake. I need to be alone to think, to feel. To be safe.

I bump into a wall that turns out to be a person. One of the facilitators, a guy with a shaved head and kind blue eyes. He takes my hand and holds my arm up in the air. “Our first volunteer.” He looks down at my name badge. “Amelia Ryder, thank you for your trust.”

What on earth is happening? I’ve somehow wandered all the way to the far side of the room where a small set of portable stairs have been placed next to a table. The facilitator takes my silence as agreement and leads me toward the steps. They’re not terribly high, but they’re not nothing either. I shake my head, trying to find the words to tell him this was a mistake, but I’ve been struck mute. Everyone is cheering and clapping, and someone has started a chant of my name. “A-me-li-a!” they shout in time. “A-me-li-a!”

I find myself standing on the table, looking around with dazed eyes. The chanting is getting louder, my name being yelled faster and faster, accompanied by the heavy thudding bass line of people stomping their feet. I feel like a gladiator about to be thrown to the lions. How the hell did I end up here?

I see Drake among the crowd, his lips pressed into a thin line of concern. He isn’t chanting, he isn’t stomping. Our eyes lock, and my heart flutters helplessly in my chest. The facilitator takes hold of my shoulders and turns me around so I’m facing him. He nods at me, smiles, and whispers words of encouragement.

I suck in a deep breath. Hear my name being called. Remember how I felt when I was looking into Drake’s eyes.

I plunge backward. Falling, falling, falling… falling into his arms. The scent of his cologne teases my nostrils, the soft swoop of his hair tickling my skin as he holds me tight. “I’ve got you, Amelia,” he whispers into my ear. “I’ve got you.”

Chapter

Twenty-One

AMELIA

Iretreated to my room as soon as I could after watching half a dozen colleagues take the leap of faith themselves. I was unable to pay attention and felt like my brain was disconnected from my body, like someone pulled the cord. Drake made sure I was all right, which I faked well enough for him to let me go, but truthfully, I wasn’t. I suspect he knew that, but when I took off early, there wasn’t much he could do about it. He’s the boss, so he had to see this thing through.

I took a long shower, ordered some room service sandwiches that I have yet to touch, and climbed into bed. The whole hotel has been booked out by James and James, and I can already hear the signs of it turning into party central. There’s a low thump of music coming from the floor above, and the sound of a woman’s laughter floats in through the window. It’s still relatively early, but a lot of them have been drinking all day, starting with the mimosas. That’s obviously part of the whole deal and maybe why people look forward to this every year instead of dreading it.

Me, though? I’m not in a party mood. Drake being a coldhearted bastard toward me hurt, but I survived it. I told myself that he meant nothing to me. That I would do ashe suggested and move across the building to work for Fred Darwin, and we would simply avoid each other. To be safe, I’d never have a one-night stand again, and that would be the end of the whole damn thing.

But Drake today? Drake apologizing? Flirting with me, touching me, holding me. That was too much. That and the stupid trust exercises have broken me in two and made me realize how deeply this thing runs between us. At least on my side.

I shiver a little in the air conditioning of the room and pull the duvet closer around me. I need to get up and get dressed, I know. I need to at least show my face downstairs, even if I don’t throw myself into the social whirlwind.

I check in on Mom first and see that a message has come in from Kimmy.

Having fun yet?

I grimace, not at all sure what the answer to that is.

I jumped off a table and got caught in the arms of my super-hot boss.

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