Page 51 of The Promises We Make

Hedoesn’t seem to catch my reaction, though, because he just shoves his hands in his back pockets and rocks back on his heels. “Youtoo,Bambi.”

Andthen he’s gone into his bedroom.

Inhalingdeeply,Iclose my eyes asIbreathe in the clean, masculine scent of him that lingers in the air.

ThenIlet it all out and head for the door.

ChapterSeventeen

Devon

Anotherbeautiful,half-dressed woman rubs herself against me, arms circling my waist as she lays her head against my shoulder.Ismile for the photo she’s taking and then extricate myself as gently asIcan.

Isabellebounces over to me. “Youguys seem to be having fun.”

Ilook over atBeau, who’s on the dance floor getting up close and personal with another statuesque model. “Yeah,”Isay, bringing my attention back to her pretty blue eyes. “Thisis great.”

Shecocks her head and laughs. “Thatwasn’t convincing.”

Ilaugh too. “Sorry.It’sbeen a long week.”

“Thelife of a rock star?”

“Probablyno worse than the life of a model.”

Shehums her agreement. “Wantto dance?”

Ihesitate, but why the fuck not?Afterall,I’msingle.ShaeandIagreed that we weren’t going to cross any more lines.She’sout with the girls, and for allIknow, pressed up against a man on the dance floor.Sowhy shouldn’tIdance with a beautiful woman?Evenif dancing isn’t usually my thing.

“Sure,”Isay with a shrug.

Shetakes my hand and leads me to the impromptu dance floor in the corner of the massive penthouse apartment.It’sthree times the size of ours.Apparently, it belongs to one of theSportsIllustratedexecs.Whichexplains the overabundance of models.

Isabellewraps her arms around my neck, her body swaying close to mine.She’stall, butI’mstill several inches taller than her, looking down into her upturned face.

Shesmiles up at me and presses a little closer.Imove with her, my focus drifting over her head toBeau.He’swhispering into the ear of the woman he’s dancing with, his hands cupping her ass.Unreasonableanger burns through me.Ihave absolutely no idea if he only seesShaeas a friend now, or if he’s just abiding by our agreement the wayIhave until recently.Buthe’s not sitting around pining for her.He’sliving his best fucking life.Sowhy amIso damn concerned about what he’d think if he found out about us?

ThenIremember the way the two of them looked at the premiere, like a couple that could be madly in love.Thelook on his face when we were sixteen and he admitted he was falling for her.Thathopeful gleam in his eye, the expression that was so different from when he’d talked about other girls.Theone that had sent a wave of panic through me whenIimagined the two of them together.Becauseit wasn’t a gleam of casual lust; it was genuine emotion.

AndI’dstamped on it.Madehim believe it didn’t mean anything.ThatShaewasn’t worth what he’d be giving up.IfIhadn’t done that—ifI’dtold him to go for it—where would we be now?

Stillhere?Stillrock stars?Singleand living it up?OrwouldBeauandShaebe married, maybe with a family by now?

Ilook away, back to the womanI’mdancing with.

She’swatching me, her lips pulling up at the corners. “You’renot interested at all, are you?”

“Sorry, what?”Iask with a frown.Hasshe been talking to me whileIwas tuned out thinking aboutBeauandShae?

Shelaughs. “You’renot interested.Inme.”

Hertone is casual, lighthearted, even.SoItell the truth. “It’snot that you’re not beautiful…”

Isabelletosses her hair over her shoulder. “Oh,IknowI’mbeautiful.”Thenher expression turns serious. “Butthere’s more to attraction than looks, right?There’schemistry and passion and maybe a bit of timing involved.”

“Yeah, sure.”Whereis she going with this?

“Andmaybe we’re missing some of those.Ormaybe if the timing is off, the rest of it doesn’t matter.Maybeif we’d done this a month or so ago, things might have been different.”Shewatches me keenly.

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