The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1) (66 page)

I feel bad about her paying for my meal and I fully intend on covering my half, so I neither confirm nor deny that I
’
ve
got it
. It doesn
’
t matter, though, as she
’
s gone before I have a chance to respond. As soon as she
’
s rounded the corner to head to the bathroom, my eyes are on the hunt for Addie. I spot her almost instantly, as she makes her way to the bar. I know that there
’
s no way I
’
m going to be able to leave without offering her an explanation, so I don
’
t hesitate to get up and close the distance between us.

I breathe deeper when the space that separates us is no more than an arm
’
s length.
“
Hey,
”
I murmur from behind her, where she stands focused at the register.

“
Hey.
”
Her tone is clipped and she doesn
’
t turn to address me, but I can see her shoulders relax just the slightest bit. Knowing that our proximity has affected her just as it has affected me, I
’
m compelled to continue.

“
You
’
re avoiding me.
”

“
I
’
m working.
”

“
Addie
—
you
’
re avoiding me.
”

As she spins around, she brings her fists to her hips and the hurt that contorts the features of her beautiful face about kills me.
“
Well,
excuse
me
, I didn
’
t want to interrupt your
date
.
”

Her words are like a punch in the gut.
“
I
’
m
not
on a date and you
know
it.
”

“
Yeah, well does
she?
Because it didn
’
t look that way to me!
”

I blow out a breath, feeling anxious and irritated. I don
’
t want to fight with her. That
’
s not our style
—
bickering and arguing and making a scene in public. At the same time, I
need
her to understand and yet she seems to have made up her mind already.
“
We ran into each other. She suggested we get some food. That
’
s it, Addie. That
’
s it.
”

“
I
’
ve been watching you for the past half an hour. Her hands
—
they were all over you! And you couldn
’
t seem to take your eyes off of her.
”

I choke out a sigh, appalled at her account of what she thinks she
’
s witnessed.
“
You
’
re kidding, right?
”

“
Do you find her attractive, Beckham?
”
she challenges me.

“
Excuse me?
”
Did she really just go there? Are we really going to do this?

“
You heard me. Do you think she
’
s pretty?
”

“
Oh, my gosh,
”
I mutter, reaching up to run my fingers through my hair.
“
Why are you asking me that? What does it matter?
”

“
Because
—”
She stops, at a loss for words.
“
Because
—”
I can tell that she
’
s starting to tremble with frustration and her breaths are coming in shallow intakes of air, the pace of which seems to match my own. As she stares into my eyes, her rich brown irises set ablaze with her contained fury and hurt feelings, I lose my grip over my self-control; and I have no fight left in me to wrestle it back into my grasp
—
so I do the next best thing.

In one step, I eliminate the space between us, sliding my hands around the nape of her neck as I crash my mouth down against hers. When she parts her lips for me, I plunge my tongue inside of her and she reciprocates with a tiny whimper. Her hands grip at my shirt, balling the fabric into her fists as we devour one another. This kiss isn
’
t just a kiss
—
it
’
s everything we aren't able to say to each other because we can
’
t find the words. The pressure with which we convey our passion and our hunger is so much, it
’
s almost painful. I feel her longing and her loneliness and her desperation just as much as I know she feels my struggle and my confusion and my ache for her. The love that passes between us in this moment is just as strong as the anger and the hurt. There is so much unspoken that I wish I could express now, here, with my mouth
—
but I know I need to stop.

If I don
’
t stop now, I might not be able to.

When I pull away, it seems to startle us both. I stare down at her and she stares up at me as we take a second to catch our breath. I have to bite my lip to keep myself from kissing her again, and I know that if I don
’
t put some space between us soon, that small act of resistance won
’
t be enough.

“
Baby,
”
I speak softly but firmly.
“
It
wasn
’
t
a date.
”

As I drop my hands away from her face, she lets go of my shirt. I inhale deeply, staying just a second longer to make sure my message has been received loud and clear, and then I walk away just as Logan returns to the table.

The
whooshing
sound that rushes through my ears and marks time to the rapid pounding of my heart is so loud I can barely hear anything else.

I didn
’
t mean to explode; didn
’
t mean to lash out and accuse him
—
but I couldn
’
t help myself. After watching them together for the first half an hour of my shift, I had too much bubbling up inside of me to avoid the eruption that came by way of accusation when Beck came over to speak to me. We don
’
t usually rant at each other, let alone when we
’
re in public, but I lost my temper. The pain of seeing them together blindsided me like nothing ever has before.

I understand that I don
’
t know her. I get it that I
’
ve only ever been around her
once,
while intoxicated
—
but under the influence or not, a woman knows when another female can
’
t be trusted. I won
’
t deny that I hate the sight of them together, regardless of whether or not it
’
s a date. Her with that perfectly blonde hair and impossibly beautiful facial structure and those legs that seem to go on for days.
Not to mention Avery
’
s account of how she seems to act around men.
And the still, small, voice inside of me that is my instrument of reason
—
my internal representative that reminds me that Beckham loves me and that I trust him
—
it never stood a chance against the force that is Logan. I might not know her, but I don
’
t have to
know
her to see that she is a force to be reckoned with.

But then that kiss.

I still feel the pressure of his mouth against mine, even as I watch him return to his table. I know that my lips are likely swollen and red, but I don
’
t care.
That kiss
—
he
’
s never kissed me with that much fervor before. While I know this changes nothing in regards to the status of our relationship, I feel like something has shifted between us.

As his mouth consumed mine, I felt so much more than his words could ever say
—
and his aggravated affection wasn
’
t just a conversation about tonight or our argument over Logan. It was about everything that he
’
s been feeling for the past four and a half weeks. He wasn
’
t the only one conveying how he felt, either. As my tongue twisted with his, I revealed what I
’
ve been holding back, too. I can honestly say that it was the most powerful and emotionally charged moment we
’
ve ever had.

“
Hey, are you okay?
”
asks Roman, pulling me from my thoughts.

“
Yeah,
”
I breathe as I offer him a nod. My focus is still on Beckham. I watch as he and Logan pay for their meal and leave the pub, but the ache in my chest is no longer as paralyzing as it was when I first walked in and saw them together.

“
What
was
that?
”

“
What was what?
”
I ask, finally bringing my eyes to meet his.

“
That kiss.
”

I don
’
t notice that I
’
m smiling until I bring my fingers up to trace my lips.
“
A reminder
…”

No, that kiss changes nothing; we
’
re still not together and I know that our time apart going forward will be just as hard
—
if not harder
—
than it has been so far. But I needed it. No,
we
needed it. That kiss. That moment. That declaration. That reminder.

“
A reminder of what?
”
Roman probes.

“
A reminder that I
’
m still his. And he is mine.
”