Page 89 of Promise Me Nothing
And I’m reveling in it.
“Done any more running recently?” I ask, taking a sip of my drink as we move along the edge of the crowded dance floor until we’ve found a place against a wall with a tall table to set our drinks.
It’s been two days since our impromptu buddy run back from the end of The Strand, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about running past his house again to see if he wanted to try it a second time.
Or to see if we could go swimming in his pool again.
God, he’d look so hot without his shirt on. With the water rushing in drops down his chest when he climbed out. That sexy tattoo of a lion and a shield that covers bicep.
Monday had been a fun afternoon. Mostly because the more Wyatt and I interact, the more it feels like we’re circling something. Or if I try to use a sports analogy, two hockey players waiting for the puck to drop before we crash into each other.
Though I envision the crashing part looking a lot sexier, a lot less violent and with a lot less clothing.
He kept finding ways to touch me. Little things. Things I always made sure to smile about, to make sure he knew I was okay with it. Especially after I freaked out the first few times.
Wyatt is slowly making his way into the zone of permission, with only a handful of other people. The people I trust, that I allow to see me without any kind of guard up.
And I’m glad. Because in this new place, I need someone else on this side of that wall. Otherwise, I’m sure it’ll just get super lonely.
Wyatt laughs, and I’m again reminded that seeing happiness on his face is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.
He’s normally so broody, his expressions so serious. This smile and happiness and relaxation is so startlingly different that I can’t help but join in, giggling alongside him.
“Definitely no more running for me yesterday or today,” he says. “My legs were killing me and this morning I could barely roll out of bed.”
“Bummer. I was hoping you’d wanna go with me again.”
He leans towards me. “Just tell me the time and where to meet you. I’ll go with you anytime.”
I smile at his words, pleased in some odd way that he’d be willing to suffer through physical pain again to go running with me.
Then I see the underlying heat in his eyes and I flush, recognizing the latent sexual undertone in his words.
Did he mean running? Or something else?
Taking another sip of my drink, I let my eyes glance around. “I’m assuming if you have a tab here that you come here pretty regularly?”
He nods, his eyes staying focused on me, completely unconcerned with what’s happening around us.
“Paige’s family owns The Wave,” he says.
“Ofcoursethey do.” I laugh. “Because no one here can just have a normal job and live in an apartment.”
His brow furrows. “Does it bother you?”
I sigh, not wanting to seem like a Debbie Downer. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to… I just… I’m not upset that Lucas and all of you guys have a lot. I just feel like an outsider sometimes. Like it’s hard to relate when life has just been so different for me. I felt that way all growing up and I guess I’d just hoped to feel differently here.”
Wyatt’s eyes flit between mine, and I see him clench his jaw before he turns and looks out at the dance floor. “Are you happy here?” he asks, not looking at me. “In Hermosa, with Lucas and at your job?”
I chuckle quietly. “That’s the question, right? That’s always the question. Are you happy?” I chew on my straw for a second. “I mean, I’m notunhappy. I’m spending some time with a brother I didn’t know about and I have a roof over my head and a job that pays me pretty decently.” I shrug, watching a couple near us spin and dip together with the music. “What’s there not to be happy about?”
Wyatt scoots closer to me, his hip pressed against mine as we both gaze out at the dance floor.
This feels like a much more serious conversation than should be had in a club. But somehow we’ve found ourselves in this corner, huddled together, talking about things that are deeper than gossip and drama and who did what with who.
“Do you ever wonder if you might not allow yourself to be happy?”
His question startles me, and I look up into his eyes. They’re darker than normal, filled with something I don’t understand. It feels like he’s looking inside of me, that he can see my deepest fears and emotions and the pain that I can’t ever really,trulyseem to get rid of.
