The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1) (117 page)

Last night, when Roman and I said goodbye, we didn
’
t talk about the kiss. He didn't kiss me again, either. I can
’
t say whether or not I
wanted
another kiss, but I
am
sure that he
’
s making it harder and harder to exist in this space where nobody talks about how they feel or what they want. That
’
s all I can think about. Only, I
’
m still not sure what I feel or what I want.

Well, that
’
s not entirely true.

I wish he hadn
’
t treated the kiss like it was normal. It didn
’
t feel wrong or forced or anything like that; and the look he gave me when he pulled away seemed to express all that he wasn
’
t saying
—
but what if that wasn
’
t about the kiss at all? What if that was about the performance?
Or maybe it really was about the kiss and he knew that I wouldn
’
t want to talk about it so he just moved on from the moment not wanting to tarnish it.

Maybe he needed the kiss because
he
doesn
’
t like that I don
’
t want to talk about it.

Needless to say, as I listen to his velvety deep voice echo in the studio, that kiss and my feelings and Roman are about all I can think about. It
’
s amazing I am able to transition from one pose to another without losing my balance and falling on my face every other minute. I barely even register when class is over and I
’
m still lost in my head when I see a familiar pair of feet at the end of my yoga mat, which I am currently rolling back up.

“
Hey. How do you feel about breakfast?
”
he asks when I stand.

I open my mouth to speak, but the only thing I can think about when I look into his dark brown eyes is that
kiss
. I remember his lips were just a tiny bit chapped and thicker than Beckham
’
s, and the hair over his top lip tickled against my skin and
—

“
You
’
re staring,
”
he murmurs as his lips curl up into a smirk.

I feel my cheeks warm and I chastise my face for mistaking me with my twin.
Then again, maybe the blush means I
want
another kiss?
I
’
m still trying to decipher what my body is telling me when I feel his fingers slide their way around the nape of my neck and into my hair. I watch as he licks his lips and lowers his face to close the distance between my mouth and his. He comes slowly and when he
’
s close enough for me to practically
taste
his breath, I gasp and turn my face away from him.

“
Addie?
”
he speaks softly. I can tell by the nearness of his voice that he hasn
’
t pulled away from me yet.

“
I
’
m sorry,
”
I whisper. Now I
have
to say something, whether I want to or not. This moment calls for words that formulate an explanation.
“
I don
’
t know what I want, Roman. If you kiss me, I
’
ll feel like a terrible person for taking advantage of you.
”

He chuckles and then presses a kiss against my cheek.
“
You couldn
’
t take advantage of anyone, least of all me.
”

I look up at him when I feel him return to his full height and he looks just like he did last night.
“
What are you thinking?
”
I ask, needing to know.

“
I stole our first kiss yesterday and for that I
’
m sorry. I plan on making it up to you. If you want.
”
Again my mouth opens and closes; suddenly I
’
m impersonating a fish.
“
I know I said we could be friends, but things have changed between us over the last few weeks and you can
’
t deny it. I just wanted you to know what I want. If you don
’
t want the same thing, I
’
ll know why
—
but I
’
d always regret not being honest with you. Okay?
”

All I can manage is a lame nod.

I was
not
expecting
any
of that.

What the heck? When did my life become so complicated? The whole point was to
not
lead him on. Is that what I
’
m doing now? When my stomach growls, I remember that he mentioned breakfast; despite my growing hunger, I feel it best if I head home.
“
Um, I
’
m sorry, I think I need to get going. Raincheck on breakfast?
”

“
Sure,
”
he says, taking a step away from me.

I turn to head for the exit and then stop.
“
Roman?
”

“
Yes?
”

“
Thank you,
”
I say, meeting his gaze over my shoulder.
“
Thank you for telling me.
”

He simply nods and then heads towards his things. I wish I could give him more, but I can
’
t. Not yet.

I was her first kiss. It
’
s a memory that I
’
ll never forget. I was nervous as hell but I went for it anyway; the smile that lit up her face when I pulled away made me so glad I didn
’
t wait a second longer.

Now? Now I have a different memory that will forever be seared into my brain.

I can
’
t help but wonder if that was their first kiss or their third kiss or their
one hundredth
kiss. The way she let it happen, it looked as though she wasn
’
t surprised or the slightest bit opposed.
That
’
s
what kills me
—
the familiarity. One second. It took one second for my whole world to come crashing down.
I thought worrying about med schools was my problem.
Forget about med school; whatever happens with that will be fine, now or later. Addison, though
—
I
’
m losing Addison
now.
The realization that she
’
s not waiting for me makes me sick to my stomach.

I
’
m in love with her. It
’
s always only ever been
her
. Even when marriage was something I was afraid of, I didn
’
t want anyone else. But I wasn
’
t
ready
. That
’
s all the breakup was
—
I just needed some time. Time with myself, time with God, time with
…
life
. I
’
m not the same man that I was at the end of last semester. I
’
m not even sure that I can describe what makes me different, it
’
s just something that I
’
m aware of. I
’
ve been asked to let go of so many things. There have been situations and circumstances that I
’
ve wanted to manage and God has just been telling me to let go. It
’
s not the funnest lesson to learn, but I
’
m trying.

Trust. That has been my struggle. And
just
when I think I
’
ve got a good grip on understanding that God will take care of me and I don
’
t have to worry so much or plan so meticulously
Every
.
Single
.
Moment
—
just when I accept that things might not go my way, but that
’
s okay because God
’
s way is better
—
this happens
.

Suddenly, my life is a cruel joke.

“
Earth to Beckham!
”
I
’
m pulled from my thoughts only after I feel Grayson
’
s heavy hand smack against the center of my chest. I look beside me, where he sits in the driver
’
s seat, and mutter an apology.
“
What
’
s going on? I thought you were looking forward to the game? You
’
ve been acting weird
all day
.
”

“
I
am
looking forward to the game. Sorry, my head has been other places.
”

“
Is it about school? Have you heard anything?
”

“
No,
”
I say, shaking my head to emphasize my answer.
“
It
’
s Addie.
”

“
What about Addie?
”
He turns down the radio, signaling me to elaborate.

“
I want her back.
”

His gaze shifts from me to the road
—
twice.
“
Hell, yeah!
”
he laughs.
“
That
’
s awesome.
”

His enthusiasm makes me feel better and worse at the same time.
“
Gray, I think it
’
s too late.
”

“
What are you talking about?
”
He furrows his brow in confusion but keeps his eyes on the road.
“
You two were together for almost five years; you
’
ve only been broken up for five months.
”

Hearing someone else say it
—
out loud
—
makes this betrayal more real. I can
’
t really think of it as anything
less
than a betrayal. Part of me, a really
small
part of me, realizes that we broke up because of me. I helped to create this mess. I let her go.
But I didn
’
t let her go!
I
didn
’
t
—
and a bigger part of me, the now
broken
part of me, knows that I told her that it wasn
’
t going to be forever. I
told
her I was doing this for our future.
Our future.
I promised her that it wasn
’
t about seeing other people, when that
’
s what she was afraid it was, and what does she do? She turns around and starts seeing other people. No. Not other people.
Roman.
What does it say that it only took
five months
of us being apart for her to discard everything we had for someone else?