Forgotten Promises (The Promises Series Book 2) (15 page)

From: Moira

Hi Blair,

How was he after I saw him outside of the restaurant? He seemed unsettled and stressed when I talked to him. He also lied to me about not having remembered anything else. I know you’d said that he only had vague recollections, but I’m worried. Please let me speak to him in my own time. I know what I’m asking of you is hard. Trust me, breaking your son’s heart for a second time in a month is harder.

Thank you for keeping me updated. Moira xx

I had envisaged coming in here and sending her a message, warning her I was going to tell him the truth. Now I’m sitting with my head in my hands on the toilet seat, wishing I’d never agreed to this in the first place. I’m a terrible liar; he’s going to notice soon enough and then where does that leave me? I need to fix this; I’m a good person…but apparently a horrible girlfriend.

I’M SCREWED. MY whole body is trembling, my heart feels like a jackhammer slamming excruciatingly into my ribs, and I have no idea what to do with the emotions rotating around in my head. My mind is a giant tumble dryer, and someone’s flicked the switch to the spin cycle. I’ve had my fair share of sex; hell, if I’m honest I’ve had way more than my fair share, but that wasn’t sex. It was two people connecting on a level I’ve never experienced until now. I mean, sure I’ve had some really great hook-ups where I’ve even stayed and had an actual conversation with a chick before leaving, and then at some point found myself going back for more. There was never a connection though. The only driving force behind going back was the assurance that it would be a good time. It’s a shallow but truthful fact; sex has always been an outlet, a stress reliever—never anything more, and I’ve always been happy with that. What Blair and I just did was different, and now I’m a mess. It was intense but soft; comfortable yet passionate; raw and completely fucking terrifying. I can't help wondering if the first time we did this it felt like that. There’s no way, because if it did, I can’t even for a second comprehend that I would have forgotten her.

I feel her trying to slide from under my arm; she thinks I’m sleeping—fat chance. I wish I could, but I don’t dare. I don’t want to wake up later and realize that tonight was just a dream. I wait for the bathroom door to click shut before sitting up and reaching for my cell. The display reads 11:32pm; I thought it would be later than that. My headache from earlier still lingers, it resembles that throbbing feeling you get when you’ve trapped your hand or foot in a door. After the initial hopping about, screaming shit and cussing like you’ve just been shot, the pain steadies to a dull, annoying discomfort that won’t go away.

“Jeeeesus, Ethan!”

I almost piss my pants at the shriek she lets out as she steps back into the room.

“Sorry,” she sighs dramatically, pressing her hand to her chest, the other hanging limp by her side, clutching her cell. “You scared me; I wasn’t expecting to walk back into you staring at the door like that. I thought you were sleeping. Damn, my heart feels like it’s about to break through my chest.”

I watch as she slinks across the floor on her tiptoes, wearing nothing but my t-shirt. It skims the tops of her thighs provocatively and my headache can take a hike; I have no room in my mind right now for anything other than the image of Blair: sleep-tousled, wild crazy sex hair, wearing my clothes. She climbs into bed and I know I’m done; there’s no coming back from this now. I may as well hand her my
man card
along with my balls, because she just breezed into the room looking like a goddamn porn star, and all I can think is how much I want to cuddle her.
Kill me now!

“Are you okay?” she asks as she flips the lamp on. “You look really pale.”

“I’m good, Princess.” I smile, because really, how am I supposed to answer that?
No, Just give me a moment please. I’m having an internal freak out. The ‘me’ I thought I knew should be trying to initiate getting back into your pants, but I seem to have grown a vagina and really just want to ask you for a hug!
Yeah, so not happening.

“You look tense—want me to rub your back or shoulders? Mom gets tension headaches, and she swears that a massage helps.”

“This is probably the only time I’ll ever decline that offer.” I grin and pull her onto my lap so she’s straddling me.

“My shoulder still aches like a bitch, and I don’t think it would be a good idea to massage me there.” Her brows shoot up to her hairline as she takes in the suggestive lilt of my voice and the smirk I’m wearing. “You could always massage me somewhere else.” I grind my hips upwards and press myself into her, letting her feel what she does to me. “I’m sure you can find another place that really, really needs some rubbing right now.”

“Ew! Pervert, I was trying to be nice,” she giggles.

“Trust me, it would be better than nice.”

“Your incorrigible, Mr. Jamison, and somewhat depraved. I require a little more than a few innuendoes to get my pheromones flowing.”

“Hell, baby, I love it when you talk nerdy to me.” I wink. I feel her tense in my lap and can’t contain my grin. “The wink gets to you, doesn’t it?”

“Let me put it to you this way,” she says as she drapes her arms around my neck and moves millimeters from my lips. “If I ever see you wink at another girl from this point forward, I think I might go alpha and rip her hair out. The winks are mine.”

“Shit, that’s hot.” I pull her tighter to me and she zeros in on my mouth. I lick my lips waiting for her to kiss me, but she hovers over them, teasingly.

“I feel kind of powerful right now.”

My body screams for her to make a move. I’m so turned on I’m a little worried I might blow without her even needing to kiss me.

“I think I like teasing you like this, it’s—” I buck my hips, twist and let her fall onto her back before positioning myself over her and pinning her arms above her head with one hand.

“Weren’t you ever taught that it’s not nice to tease, Princess?” She gasps or groans—or maybe it’s a mixture of the two—and it’s sexy as fuck. “I think maybe I should teach you a lesson.”

“Oh my gosh, that was cheesy!” She beams.

“Yeah, it sounded kinda lame as it came out,” I agree. “Is it working though?”

“Yeah, sadly it is. Maybe I have a thing for lame now."

“Nah, Princess, you just have a thing for crazy sexy musicians.”

She groans, and I laugh.

“No I was right the first time, it’s the lameness; it’s like an aphrodisiac.”

“Okay, enough with the lameness. Shut up for a second and let me kiss you.”

“Aw, baby…you have such sweet pillow talk. I can’t bel—” I silence her as my tongue plunges into her mouth, and then for the next couple of hours I make it my sole mission in life to hear her scream my name.

Morning rolls around way too quickly for my liking. The shower is making an awful hum and Blair’s no longer by my side. I stretch my arms out and relish the aches that are a result of the evening’s antics, and not the ones caused by the crash. Can you have good and bad aches? I’m pretty sure I could get used to the ones she causes. I roll onto my side, noticing that her cell is lit up. I don’t mean to be nosey but I catch that the screen has my mom's name across it, and I’m instantly at war with myself. I want to see what my mom’s texting my girlfriend, but I don’t want to do anything that would break Blair’s trust. I’m pretty sure reading her text message is recipe for disaster, so against my instincts I turn over and try ignoring it. I’m flirting with the idea of getting dressed when I hear the faint noise of her singing in the shower. My whole body heats as I strain to listen to what it is that she’s singing; the din of the shower is muffling it and making it hard to decipher, so I sneak like a complete creeper into the bathroom and lower myself onto the toilet seat while I listen to her sing the chorus of Hinder’s,
Better Than Me
. She’s good. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, she gives off the vibe that she would be ridiculously talented at anything she tries. I close my eyes listening to her voice and let it wash over me; I’ve always liked this song. I make a mental note to learn the music and suddenly I’m not here anymore. Instead, I’m sitting in my bathroom at the pool house, watching her brace against the answers to the questions she’s asking about my dad and the bruises on my ribs. I blink rapidly, trying to focus the haze of images that play in my mind. I think I remember a party and her being wasted after singing the cup song. I don’t know if it’s my mind playing tricks or if it’s an actual memory. My temples start to ache where I’m pushing my fingers into the pressure points, trying to coax out more of my subconscious but get nothing for my efforts. I’m beyond pissed at this situation now. I just want to be able to remember my life, even if it is a pretty shitty one.

The steam forming in the tiny room is damp on my skin. I figure that as long I’m in here, I should make the most of it and hijack her shower. I pull the curtain back ready for her to shriek at me, but her back is turned while she’s soaping up her hair, still singing to herself. I watch as the suds slide down her back and over her ass.

This was definitely one of my better ideas.

I step in behind her, and she starts as I press my front to her back, circling her waist with my arms and telling her to keep singing. I close my eyes and stand holding her as I feel the warmth of the water and the heat of my desire for her douse me.