The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1) (62 page)

I can
’
t help but chuckle at her response, as if I might explode any minute at the sound of her sister
’
s name.
Then again, isn
’
t her caution warranted? I certainly acted like I would explode a couple minutes ago.
“
Okay,
”
I concede with a nod.
“
Just tell me what time and I
’
ll be there.
”

“
Perfect. Two o
’
clock, Saturday, at our house. Dad
’
s cooking out, so bring your appetite.
”

“
Oh, that won
’
t be a problem.
”
I know for a fact that Ray Grant knows his way around a grill like nobody else.

Grayson inhales loudly, drawing both of our gazes in his direction. Avery giggles as he squeezes her, waking up his muscles as he stretches his back.
“
Hey, sleepy head,
”
she coos as she buries her fingers in his hair, once more.

“
Umm, no,
”
he grumbles, shaking his head.
“
When you do that, it
’
s like when I put on ESPN and it knocks you out
—
so unless you want me to go back to sleep, I suggest you stop.
”

She laughs and then bends to kiss his forehead.
“
No more sleeping. How about eating? I
’
m hungry, and I
’
m sure grumpy pants could use a tasty meal, too.
”

He pops up his head and looks at me with half-mast eyes.
“
Hey. Why you grumpy?
”
he mumbles.

“
We
’
re not talking about her
—
I mean
it
,
”
says Avery with a grin.
“
But maybe we could change his mind with one of your famous grilled cheese sandwiches?
”

“
Mmm,
”
he hums as he sits up. He rubs his eyes and takes another deep breath before nodding at me.
“
We can try.
”
He kisses Avery before he stands and heads for the kitchen.

I have no intention of spilling my guts tonight
—
but I
’
m not telling
him
that; not until after I get my sandwich.
Or maybe two.

A dozen people get up to perform their pieces of poetry. Half of them are awful, a few of them are decent, and a couple of them are
incredible
—
making the whole experience worthy of repeating. It
’
s nine o
’
clock when the event is over and I
’
m feeling so awake and full of energy that the last thing I want to do is go home, so I suggest we do something else. Daphne appears at our table just as the words pass my lips and she informs us that she
’
s starving, she
’
ll be off in a half an hour
—
after she and Brandon close up the cafe
—
and that we should keep a seat warm for her at Cooper
’
s. Despite the fact that all three of us spend hour after hour at the pub for work, none of us are opposed to the idea and we set out for our next destination right away.

Daphne shows up a half an hour later, Brandon in tow, and we all share a pizza with some beer.
Well, Sarah orders a beer and I try hers and decide that it
’
s not really my thing and stick with my water.
We
’
re halfway done with our pizza when a heavily tattooed guy, in a graphic t-shirt and a backwards baseball cap covering his dark blonde hair, makes his way toward our table. I
’
m apparently the only one who sees him approach and he catches me studying him as he grows closer. He brings a finger to his lips, signaling for me to stay quiet, and there
’
s something in his oval shaped blue-green eyes that makes me trust that he
’
s harmless. My instincts are proven right when he sneaks up behind Daphne and gently presses his lips against her neck, just shy of where her t-shirt begins. She jumps and he kisses the spot again before she noticeably relaxes, still without turning to see who it is. My heart flutters at the sight of the exchange.

“
You didn
’
t tell me that your sister had a boyfriend,
”
I whisper as I nudge Roman with my elbow.

“
You never asked,
”
he says, setting down his beer.
“
And she
doesn
’
t
. That
’
s just how they are.
”
Before I can ask him to explain, Mr. Tattoo comes around and pats Roman on the back in greeting. Roman twists around and they clasp hands and exchange the typical
man hug,
and it
’
s obvious that they
’
re glad to see one another.
“
How
’
s it going, man?
”
Roman asks as Mr. Tattoo grabs a seat from an empty table nearby and joins us. Roman scoots closer to his sister and makes space between him and me. Glancing over at Daphne, I miss Mr. Tattoo
’
s response to Roman
’
s inquiry. I wonder about the distance that he places between the two of them, considering his warm greeting, but the smile that lights her eyes as she watches him implies that she doesn
’
t seem to mind.

“
Addie, Sarah,
”
I
’
m pulled from my thoughts at the sound of my name in Roman
’
s voice,
“
this is Trevor. Trevor, Addie and Sarah.
”

“
Hey,
”
he says with a wave. His eyes travel from Sarah to me and his eyebrows scrunch in confusion.
“
Haven
’
t we
—
oh!
”
His face relaxes as realization strikes.
“
There are two of you. I forgot.
”

I laugh and nod.
“
Technically there are one of each of us, but yeah. It
’
s nice to meet you.
”

“
So, how was the poetry thing?
”
he asks.

His simple question has all of us jumping in, describing our favorite moments along with our opinions on the worst. Conversation flows easily between all of us, even though some of us have just met and we
’
re all connected in such disjointed ways. I bask in the sibling love that passes back and forth between Roman and Daphne. They bicker and tease each other all night and it makes me happy to see another side of Roman and to have the chance to get to know Daphne a little more. Even better is the front row seat I have to the flirtation between Sarah and Roman.
No way is she ever going to be able to live this night down.
I make a mental note to bring Sarah up in conversation with Roman more often from now on.

Trevor suggests a game of foosball and Roman, Sarah, and I agree to join him.

“
Come on, handsome,
”
says Sarah as she bounces from her stool.
“
We
’
re the dream team.
”

The dream team?
I shake my head and stifle a laugh as Trevor and I join forces on the opposite side of the table.
Yeah
—
I
’
m going to hold onto that one.

Even though I totally suck at foosball, Trevor
’
s strangely awesome and we win the first game. Our joint celebration over our victory leads to a challenge for another round, which Roman and Sarah win; and since we can
’
t leave tied, Trevor insists we play one last game
—
which we win in no time. Then we finally decide it
’
s time to head home. I
’
m sad to see us go our separate ways, but there
’
s a smile on my face that won
’
t go away.
Tonight has been exactly what I needed. More than what I needed
…
and I have a feeling we
’
ll see each other again soon.

On the drive back home, I thank the Lord for new friends, pleasant distractions, memories full of laughter, and fresh bandaids.

It
’
s Thursday and my bad mood from Sunday is still being dragged around like a piece of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of my shoe. I can
’
t even count the amount of times in the past four days I
’
ve thought
screw it
—
I
’
m over this
. I
’
ve come
this close
to stomping up to Addison
’
s door, entering without knocking, pulling her into my arms, and kissing her until I can
’
t breathe. I
’
ve come
this close
to telling her:
I have no idea what the hell I was thinking and this isn
’
t working and I don
’
t know what I
’
m doing without you and so I
’
m done trying to pretend that this is for the best because CLEARLY it
’
s not
.