Forgotten Promises (The Promises Series Book 2) (10 page)

“Okay, my mom’s parking the car. I need to head back to my room and collect my bags,” she announces, pulling me from the X-rated daydream her boobs have me in.

“I’ll come and help you with them. I’m a gentleman after all,” I wink as she scoffs and scrapes back her chair from the table. There’s a huge coffee colored stain covering her tits; I’m struggling with whether it embarrasses me or turns me on.

“What?”

“I can’t believe I spat all over your…you know,” I groan

“Neither can I, I had you pegged as a swallower!”

Her words color her cheeks, and I can’t contain my laughter. I place my hand at the small of her back as I guide her from the coffee shop and electricity zings through my veins, coursing its way up my arm and leaving fire in its wake.
I wonder if she feels it too?

She explains that she’ll be staying in a hotel with her mom instead of flying home to Santa Maria, so we agree that once I’m released we’ll collect my car and drive home. At the coffee shop she’d promised to fill me in on a few blank spots about what we’re even doing in Arizona. I just hope my car hasn’t been impounded, since I’ve basically abandoned it for the last week or so. I’m nervous as hell at the prospect of a ten-hour car journey with her, but weirdly buzzed at the same time. She’s assured me it will be cool with her mom; I’m not holding my breath on that one, though. I’m assuming that my own mother will be staying here with Dad for some time yet. I don’t see any reason to stay once the docs say I can leave. It certainly isn’t like I’m wanted here; Dad made that perfectly clear. It suits me fine, the farther away from this fucked up situation I am, the better.

“Well, Ethan, I’ve examined your scan results and gone over your notes and I’m happy to release you this afternoon. I have faxed over your records to a colleague of mine at Marian Regional Health Centre. Dr. Bishop is happy to take over your care plan. You’ve been scheduled an assessment with her in three days. The details are all down here.”

“Thanks, Doc,” I tell him as I reach and take the large manila envelope from his outstretched hand. I’ve been bouncing my heels waiting for him to come and approve my release all morning. I’ve never wanted to leave a place so much in my entire life. Mom thanks him for everything he’s done whilst fixing me with an annoyed stare, alerting me to the fact that she’s expecting me to do the same.

“Sorry,” I drop the envelope on the bed and reach out to shake Dr. Moss’s hand. “Thank you for everything,” I tell him as I widen my eyes at my mom in a ‘happy now?’ expression. By the subtle shake of her head, I guess she’s not placated by my efforts.
Whatever.

“Are you really just going to leave?” she asks the second that we’re alone.

“Yeah, why?”

“What do you mean, why? Ethan, your dad is in the ICU; he needs life-threatening surgery and you’re just going to leave?” Her tone is laced with disbelief, but she doesn’t sound angry; she sounds sad.

“Are you being serious right now? He hates me. Why would I stay—what for? He sure as shit doesn’t want me here, or am I mistaken? Did I misinterpret the way he screamed for me to get out when I went to his room? Sorry Mom, but here is the last place on this fucking planet that I want to be. He blames me; you and I both know it. Nothing has changed. I’m always the one to blame. The only difference is that now he doesn’t have the luxury of expressing his anger towards me the way he no doubt wants to. The way he’s always done. So yes, Mom, I am about to
just leave
. I’m not waiting here and being used as a verbal punch bag, and for once, I’m not scared to walk away. Maybe that makes me a coward because I know that he can’t just up and follow me, but honestly, I don’t care. And if you had any sense, you’d do the same. You’d pick me and not him, and leave. But that’s not you, is it? Never has been.”

I watch as her shoulders sag, and she physically shrinks before me. Her face has paled, and her former look of disbelief has dissolved into shame.

“Ethan, I…” she lets herself fall like a ragdoll into the chair positioned across from the bed. Her sadness is palpable; she looks like a child in this scenario, not the parent. She raises her head and her eyes are red. “I can’t just leave him in here.”

The words fill the room from a whisper that hits me louder than if she’d screamed them into a megaphone. Only I’m not hearing, ‘I can’t leave him’ I’m hearing, ‘I can’t choose you.'

I snatch the letter from the bed, and I’m out of the door just in time to hear her cry.
Good. Welcome to my life, Mom
. I make it a whole ten feet before I feel the hot bite of a tear slide lazily down my cheek. I wipe furiously at my eyes.

I. Will. Not. Cry.

I repeat the words low under my breath as I navigate the maze of corridors all painted in the same sickly pale green, no doubt chosen by some sadistic prick that hates his job and thought it would be a fun game to make every corridor look exactly alike to completely confuse us poor assholes that have to walk them. I finally find my way to the main exit and race through the large sliding doors as if I’m being chased. Maybe I am. Perhaps I’m trying to outrun the worthlessness and rejection that seems to never be more than two steps behind me. I emerge into the parking lot and squint as the bright midday sun casts a blinding glow through the cloudless Arizona sky. The heat is causing the air to ripple before me, dancing in waves as the blistering gleams bounce from car to car, prompting me to shield my eyes. I can’t determine what hurts most: the dazzling light scorching my vision or the sting of holding back tears.

I’m pulling up outside Blair’s hotel as my cell vibrates. I reach down and retrieve it from my pocket to see she’s messaged me.

From: Princess

Text me when you arrive. Our room number is 102; I’ll come down to the lobby and meet you.

B xxx

I toss the driver a twenty and climb out of the cab. I had him pull over at an ATM on the way here. I run my hand through my hair and my wrist protests at the movement as I type out a reply with my good hand.

To: Princess

Outside now.

Ethan

I stare at the screen and debate whether or not to add kisses. I spend a few seconds putting way too much thought into it before deciding I’m a total douche and give myself a ‘man the hell up and find your balls’ pep talk. I hit send. Sans kisses. Obsess over it like a teenage girl at a Bieber concert and then send another text.

To: Princess

X

She’s already in the lobby by the time I’ve located my scrotum and made my way into the hotel.

“Hey you, how does it feel to be a free man?” she asks with a grin as I quicken my pace and stride towards her.

“Pretty good, actually.”

I come to a halt just inches from her, completely invading her personal space, but I don’t care about that at the moment. She’s wearing yoga pants and a white tank, her hair’s falling loose and wild across her shoulders and I’m close enough to smell the strawberry scent of what I’m guessing is her shampoo. It almost feels familiar. The reality of how close I’m standing dawns on me. My stance suggests that I’m about to greet her with a kiss, which I REALLY want to do, but I feel awkward. She’s staring at me expectantly and I’m frozen. I don’t know how to act in this situation. I know what I want to do, but as much as I want to grab and touch and kiss her until our lips are numb, I’m painfully aware of the fact that she knows I don’t remember her, and I somehow feel like it would be taking advantage. I don’t want her to think that I expect I can do whatever the hell I want to her because she’s my girlfriend.

“Don’t overthink it, Ethan,” she smirks and I narrow my gaze.

“Overthink what?”

“If you should kiss me or not. You definitely should.”

“Um, I wasn’t thinking about kissing you.” I wrinkle my nose and watch the color flood her creamy cheeks. The asshole in me loves that I can make her blush. Her eyes widen and she begins to stutter something before taking a step away and I lunge forward catching her around the waist.

“Where do you think you’re going? It was a joke, Princess.” My mouth cuts short any plans she had to form a retort.

My lips glide against hers, and my hands travel slowly from her waist up the full length of her torso before I move them to cup her face. She sighs, moving to press her stomach and chest closer to me. I’m acutely aware that we are standing in the middle of a busy hotel lobby, but kissing her is more important than acting in a socially acceptable manner. I’m not usually one for PDA but right now it’s my new favorite thing. Someone coughs a little too loudly for it to be anything other than a cue that we need to move the floorshow to the room, except Blair and her mom are here together and I haven’t booked a room. I’m fairly certain seeing us kiss passionately in the lobby isn’t something her mom is going to be happy witnessing. I’m fighting a losing battle with myself to pull away when she solves my dilemma and breaks the kiss. Her face is still flushed as she breaks into a huge grin. It sends my pulse into a frenzy and I can feel my heart slam painfully against my ribs.

“That’s how you should greet me from now on, by the way.”

“That can be arranged, Princess.”

“Good. Oh, and Ethan?”

“Yeah?”

“You might want to take your jacket off and reposition it somewhere else.”

Wait, what?
I look at her confused, and she glances down to my junk quickly, before meeting my eyes again. I feel my own cheeks flush with the realization that my jeans feel a hell of a lot tighter than they did before I kissed her.

“That’s your fault,” I tell her while moving my jacket to shield myself.

“Lead the way to your room. I need to use the restroom.” I wink and follow as she walks ahead of me laughing.