The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1) (55 page)

“
Got it.
”

“
So, where is your boy toy, anyway?
”
asks Logan before sipping from her beer.

“
Finishing up at work. He
’
ll be here later.
”

“
Well, Jackson, Beckham, Avery, this guy over here is Trevor.
”

“
Hey, guys. What
’
s up?
”

We all greet him in unison before Jack nods in his direction and says,
“
Nice ink.
”

“
Thanks.
”

“
Where
’
d you get it done?
”

“
He designed it himself, isn
’
t that awesome?
”
Logan answers before he can, resting her hand on his forearm as she looks back at Jack.
“
He even
tattooed
some of it himself. Crazy, right?
”

I wonder, in light of her contact, if there
’
s something between the two of them. It would surprise me if there was,
they don
’
t seem each other
’
s type
, but she seems full of surprises. Then I remember how she was flirting with Gray the other night and I shrug off my curiosity, too confused to keep up and not interested enough to figure it out.

“
Do you mind if I
…
?
”
Avery
’
s timid request pulls me from my thoughts. Trevor leans forward, stretching his arm out in front of her so that she can have a closer look. I peek over her shoulder and see that the colorful design that extends all the way up to his shoulder is actually one, big, dragon
—
the tail wrapping around his arm and ending at a point on his wrist.
“
That is
so
cool,
”
murmurs Avery in awe. I agree.

“
Trevor is co-owner of a tattoo parlor. He
’
s the shit and he knows it,
”
says Daphne. Trevor chuckles, looking over at her, and she joins in with a laugh of her own.
“
Now you know where to go if you want something done. I don
’
t trust anyone more than I trust this guy.
”

I
’
m even more impressed with his work now than I was before.
Co-owner? He doesn
’
t look much older than us.
I assume he
’
s responsible for the ink on Daphne
’
s right forearm and guess that
’
s how they met.

“
What
’
s the name of your shop?
”
asks Jack.

“
Generation Ink,
”
Trevor replies, turning in his chair so that he can show off his other arm to Avery.

Pretty soon our waitress approaches, wishing to take our drink orders so we can catch up with the other half of our group. I order the house wheat beer and Jack mimics me before instructing Avery to try a hard cider, a choice he
’
s sure she
’
ll like as a newbie. Turns out, he
’
s right, and she nurses her drink all throughout dinner. Since we
’
re all relatively new to each other, conversation is filled with general get-to-know-you chit-chat which leads to random topics of discussion that keep us going until all of our food is gone.

When we
’
re finished, we decide to abandon our table to go check out the games that are spread out on the lawn. There
’
s a group of guys playing a rowdy game of touch football, a few stations for horseshoes, and then a few more set up for corn hole. Mostly, people are standing around, drinking, talking, and enjoying the DJs mix, so when Avery spots an open corn hole station, she insists we team up and play. Jack and Daphne decide to sit out and watch and Logan is quick to volunteer to be my partner, so Ave and Trevor pair up and the game begins.

“
I
’
m counting on you not to suck,
”
says Logan, tossing a bean bag from one hand to the other.

“
Hmm
—
competitive?
”

She giggles and nods.
“
Why yes, I am. But that
’
s only part of why I
’
m counting on you not to suck.
”
She pauses for a moment and throws her first bag; it hits the board at such a force that it slides right past the hole and off the back.
“
See?
”
she inquires with a grin as she turns to face me.
“
I
’
ve had too much to drink to be any good.
”

“
Well, we
’
re in luck,
”
I say with a smirk.
“
Avery has
terrible
aim.
”

“
Brilliant!
”
she cheers before throwing her remaining bean bags. One comes close, but doesn
’
t make it in; then it
’
s Trevor
’
s turn. He scores twice and misses once before it
’
s my turn to play. I miss the first one, but sink the next two, which earns me a squeal, an applause, and a high five from Logan.
“
You know, I like you like this, Beckham.
”

“
Like what?
”
I ask, shifting my gaze between her and Avery, as she attempts to score.

“
Off your white horse. You seem more relaxed after a couple beers.
”

“
Isn
’
t everyone?
”
I chuckle.

“
Oh, come on. Just admit it,
”
she chastises me, pocking my chest with her index finger.
“
You
’
re. Having. Fun!
”

“
Alright, alright. You caught me,
”
I say, playing along.
“
I
’
m having fun.
”
It
’
s the truth. I am having fun. It
’
s nice to be out with friends and to not be thinking about anything except for whether I should toss the bean bag more to the right or to the left.
Now that I think about it, it
’
s also kind of nice to be out with people who don
’
t know a whole lot about me; people who don
’
t know I
’
m in the middle of a complicated, confusing, and hard time right now. They don
’
t ask or wonder about how I
’
m doing, they just expect me to show up and have a good time with them. It
’
s a relief.

I
’
m pulled from my thoughts at the sound of Logan
’
s victory cry.
“
Did you see that? I got one in!
”
she squeals before throwing her arms around me. I
’
m startled by her touch and the foreign feeling of her body pressed against mine, but my arms wrap around her instinctively as I murmur a congratulations. I don
’
t hold on for longer than a second and she pulls away from me as soon as she senses my retreat.
“
We just might have a chance, after all.
”

“
Ouch!
”
I yelp when a bean bag suddenly smacks across my cheek. When I look up, I find Trevor is bent over laughing and Avery is glaring at me, her fists pressed against her hips.
“
What was that for?
”
I manage as the shock sets in that Avery, who has the worst aim, just chucked something at me that actually hit her intended target. When she lifts her eyebrows at me in response to my question, I shrug in confusion. She yanks out her phone as Trevor proceeds to take his turn. Two seconds later, I have a text.

Avery:
You ARE aware that she
’
s flirting with you like MAD, right?

I shake my head as I construct my reply.

Me:
She
’
s tipsy, Ave. It
’
s harmless.

Avery:
You don
’
t know her so you can
’
t know that. Just be careful
…

So much for a break from thinking about Addie.

Me:
You know who owns my heart. I can handle her.

Because Trevor is strangely awesome at corn hole, and because I apparently have pretty good aim when I
’
m really annoyed, we win our game. It
’
s a quarter to nine when we
’
re finished, so we decide to head back to the patio to try and snag any available spots left to watch the band that will grace the stage in a few minutes. I
’
m not sure who is playing, but Daphne is under the impression that they are going to be great, so we follow her lead.

I check my phone and see that Sonny sent me a text not too long ago telling me he just needed to stop home to change his clothes before he heads over. I don
’
t even try and hide my smile at the thought of seeing him soon.

“
Headed to the little girls room before we get sucked into the crowd. Anyone else need to go?
”
asks Daphne.

“
I
’
ll come,
”
I say, stowing my phone.

“
I
’
m good,
”
calls out Logan as she and our three guys continue toward our destination.

Yeah. I
’
m sure you are
, I think to myself before turning to follow Daphne. I
’
m sort of surprised by my snide thought and then I realize, as the only girl representative from my little tight knit group, I
’
m feeling very possessive over Hammy and Jack.
Especially Hammy. Someone has to fight for him in AJ
’
s absence, right?
However,
I
’
m
not
surprised to find that the line for the girls
’
bathroom is a mile long.
Isn
’
t it always this way? What is it about guys that makes them never have to endure this sort of wait?