The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1) (65 page)

Intimacy? Come on, Addison
—
they don
’
t have intimacy.

Then what was that? Have you ever seen him that way with someone else?

I ball my fingers into my palms and force myself to find a rational thought.
Any
rational thought. Like, how he said he didn
’
t want to see other people. He said that,
right
? He had been adamant about it,
right
?

Then, just as suddenly as the thought comes, it goes at the sound of their laughter.

Beckham and Logan.
Laughing
.
Together
.

Jealousy.

That
’
s what it is. That
’
s the monster that
’
s squeezing my lungs. I
’
ve felt some semblance of jealousy before. Who hasn
’
t? But never like this.
Never
.
This
is almost unrecognizable as jealousy. It seems bigger. More aggressive. More painful.

What is he doing here with her?

“
It
’
s not what it looks like.
”
I register his words only after he gives my shoulder a friendly squeeze.
Roman
.

“
You don
’
t know that,
”
I mutter, my eyes still glued on them.
How is it possible that he doesn
’
t feel me in the room? When I walked in, I spotted him in less than two seconds! How has he not noticed me?

“
Addie, look at me,
”
coaxes Roman.

“
I can
’
t.
”
I can feel the aggression dissipating as panic and longing set in.
Why does
she
get to be at that table with him? Laughing and touching him? Why her and not me?

“
Addie, it
’
s
not
what it looks like.
”

“
You don
’
t know that,
”
I bite, shrugging away his hand.

“
Yes, I do,
”
he mutters, taking my chin between his fingers and jerking my face so that I have no choice but to look at him.
“
I know Logan and it
’
s
not
what it looks like.
”

He knows Logan.

Daphne knows Logan. Beckham knows Logan
—
even Avery knows enough about Logan to know that she doesn
’
t like her.
I
don
’
t know Logan. Don
’
t know her. Don
’
t trust her. Yet
—
she
’
s sitting across the room with the man that I love, capturing his attention like she
’
s the only person on the planet.

Can I blame him? She
’
s gorgeous and effortlessly graceful. Even the sound of her laugh sounds like music. How am I supposed to compete with that?

“
Addie, do you hear me? It
’
s
not
what it looks like.
”

“
That
’
s not what my heart is saying,
”
I whisper as my eyes pool with tears.

“
Well, your heart can
’
t see past the smoke screen that is
Logan
.
”

I try and latch onto his words, to cling to his assurances, but I. Just. Can
’
t. I feel like I have no control of my thoughts and my confidence has disappeared, leaving me in this fight alone
—
and I can
’
t win! It doesn
’
t matter what she is or isn
’
t doing, what matters is that the two of them are here. Alone. Together. It doesn
’
t make sense. They hardly know each other.

Then again, how would I know that?

Suddenly, being broken up with Beckham feels overwhelmingly different than it did five minutes ago. In an instant, four weeks
—
almost five
—
seems like an eternity.
What else don
’
t I know about him? What don
’
t I know about him that
she
does?

Stop
.

I have to stop. I can
’
t go there. I can
’
t allow myself to ask any more questions. Not now. Not here. I have a shift to work.

“
I
’
m fine.
”
I square my shoulders and take a deep breath.
“
I
’
m
fine
.
”
I repeat the words, unsure if I
’
m trying to convince myself or Roman, who is looking at me with the sincerest concern I
’
ve ever seen in his handsome brown eyes.
“
I have to clock in,
”
I manage, pulling away from him to go do just that.

She
’
s avoiding me.

No. She
’
s avoiding
us.
Our table. My table with
Logan
.

I shouldn
’
t be here with her. Like this. Regardless of what is
not
going on between us, I shouldn
’
t be here with her
—
alone.

I wouldn
’
t be out with
just
Logan if Addie and I were still in a relationship
—
and it shouldn
’
t be any different now. We
’
re not together, no, but my heart belongs to her. While Addie would never be opposed to me having female friends, she
would
be opposed to me allowing my female friends to act the way my
dinner companion
is acting. It
’
s not a matter of me seeking
permission
from the woman I love to go out with certain people, it
’
s simply a matter of respect. Not just respect on
my
end, but also respect on
the other person
’
s
end. I know what Logan is doing. I
’
m not oblivious. I can sit here and trick myself into thinking that every flirtatious move she makes is harmless, but is it? I can
’
t know that
—
I don
’
t know her intentions. I don
’
t know
her.
She thinks I
’
m single. I
am
single
…
it
’
s just
—
complicated.

Complicated. She
’
s such a bitch.

Logan was right.

What started off as a distraction practically handed to me on a silver platter is now turning into something far more complicated.
Good Lord, is there anything simple in my life anymore?
The truth of the matter is, I don
’
t regret getting out of the house or running into Logan. Could I have handled this situation differently? Yeah, sure. But I can
’
t deny that I enjoy her company. She
’
s so
bizarre
and complex; she
’
s just different and refreshing in a way that seems off putting
—
but once you give her a chance, she
’
s not so bad. I guess I just wish we hadn
’
t come
here
. I wasn
’
t prepared for this. To see Addie, here,
with Logan
.

I know Addie saw me before I saw her. I can tell by the set of her shoulders. She
’
s tense
—
wound up so tight that she might snap any moment. The longer I sit here, the higher her shoulders rise. I don
’
t mean to upset her. I
’
m not doing it on purpose. If I could just
explain
! But she
’
s successfully avoiding this table like we
’
ve got the plague.

My frustration, no longer forgotten or pushed aside, seems to have escalated to another level. It
’
s like Sunday, multiplied by one hundred. To know that she was upset at church, about something I knew she wouldn
’
t be coming to me about later, felt awful.
This?
To know that she
’
s upset, but without any doubt as to the reason why, on top of the fact that I
’
m already going crazy without her, and now we
’
re in the same room and she
’
s giving me the cold shoulder like she never has before
—

“
Beckham? Are you even listening to me anymore?
”

I inhale deeply, sitting up straighter as I focus my gaze back on Logan.
“
What? I
’
m sorry.
”

She giggles as she shakes her head at me.
“
One day, I
’
m going to find out what
’
s in that head of yours that
’
s
so
interesting.
”

I cough out a self-conscious laugh as I run my hand over my hair.
“
It
’
s not as fascinating as you might think.
”

“
You
’
re right,
”
she says, reaching out to tap her finger against my nose.
“
I
’
m sure it
’
s even better.
”
When she slips out of her chair and grabs her purse, my heart rate picks up a notch.
“
I
’
m going to run to the ladies room and then we
’
ll get out of here. I believe I
’
ve graced you with enough of my presence to cheer you up, for now. Oh, and if our waitress comes back with the check, don
’
t you
dare
try and pay
—
this is
my
treat. Got it?
”