Empty Promises (The Promises Series Book 3) (19 page)

“Swap,” I say, tugging her to the right so she can walk along the wall.

I'm not a fan of being bumped into, but I don't have a hair-trigger temper like Sera. Let me tell you a little about Serafina Manzini. Her mom, Lily, was my dad's sister. She was a Russo. Tommy Manzini married a Russo, which caused some major feuding. Mr. Manzini refused to get involved in his brother's “family business.” Who could blame him? Who wants to get involved with the freaking Chicago mafia? Hell to the no thank you. Well, his brother didn't take too kindly to being told no and after multiple threats and multiple “fuck you's” from Sera's dad, they killed Sera's parents execution style. When the hit was carried out Sera was on vacation with us, which is the only reason she's still alive. Now, she's protected under my family as our grandpa Giovanni and my uncle Emilio are involved in the “family business”. We aren't directly involved in any of that crap. My grandpa respects my dad's decision to go legit and raise us outside the rules of the mafia, which I am thankful for every day—though we will never be one hundred percent outside. That's just not possible. I've seen my cousins Nico and Bella both with guns tucked in the waistband of their pants and I've been told they can hit moving targets better than some of their most seasoned veterans. Bella can't participate, being a girl and all, but that doesn't stop her from trying. Not something I'd want to participate in. This was going to be the life for Sera had her uncle succeeded.

Oh, and just so you know, my grandpa “took care of” those who killed Sera's family. I shouldn't be happy about that as revenge doesn't solve anything, but now those thugs won't be able to do that to anyone else. Go gramps! (He'd have a fit if I ever called him gramps to his face.) Now, you're probably wondering what that has to do with Sera's temper. Well, before her family was killed, Sera was bubbly and fun. She was always positive but with the loss of her family, she's become bitter, angry, and, at times, hostile. She just has no patience for anyone's bullshit anymore—her words, not mine. So, you can imagine after she's been bumped into five or six times how she'd react. It wouldn't be pretty. It'd range from yelling and swearing to possibly punching someone in the face and, as she mentioned, throat punching someone. Well, let's just say it would have been ugly.

“Oh! Starbucks!”

“Hell yeah,” Sera says, following behind me.

“What do you want? My treat.”

“Caramel macchiato, Venti, triple shot.”

I raise my eyebrows. “You're going to be hyped on the plane.”

“All the better for playing Candy Crush.”

“Oh my God. You and that dumb game.”

She flips her long brown hair over her shoulder. “Whatever. You only think it's dumb because you can't get past level 96.”

“Suck it.”

“If you had something to suck…” She breaks off with a shrug and a smirk as we step up to the counter to order.

I order Sera's large cup of caffeine and for myself I order an Americano with vanilla syrup, extra sweet, with two creams.

As we wait for our order there's a commotion in the center seating area near the flight boards.

“Huh, I wonder which celeb is flying today,” Sera questions.

I shrug. It's not uncommon to see celebrities pass through Chicago, I've just never seen one up close and personal.

“Maybe it's someone sexy like Taylor Lautner.” She wiggles her eyebrows at this and I can't help but smirk.

“Doubtful. It's probably some old dude or a model,” I start to ramble as I hand Sera her coffee and pay. I head off to the side to stir in extra sugars and creamer. “Maybe it's Miley. Or the Biebs,” I say with a snort.

Sera taps my arm a couple times.

“What?” I look over at her. She's standing there with her coffee halfway to her mouth, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide.

“What's going on?”

“L-look,” she points.

I turn and I nearly drop my coffee. All the air in my lungs has been sucked out in some sort of vacuum and I can't breathe. I grab Sera's arm and make some incoherent sound that sounds like, “unh”. She must get what I'm saying because she responds with, “I know!”

“Unh!”

“
I know!
Wow. Did you conjure him up looking for His Sexiness? You should go ask for his autograph.”

No way. Uh-uh. I, Luciana Russo, am a chicken. I can't even move at this point. Hell, I can't even speak. I'm sure he wouldn't understand “unh”.

“You have to, Lucy. You've wanted to meet Jesse Kingston since we were in seventh grade! This is your one and, probably, only shot.”

She's right, but I can't move. I don't even have a pen. I must be talking normally now because she thrusts a pen and paper in my face. Then she grabs my arm and drags me to where he's standing.

“Unh.” Guess not, she just knows.

Okay, you're probably wondering who the hell Jesse Kingston is and what the big deal is. Let me tell you. Jesse Kingston is People Magazine's Sexiest Man Alive the last three years running. He's tall, dark and delicious. He's sex on a stick. He's the lead singer of Falling Down and has the sexiest voice I've ever heard. I kid you not, his voice is deep and gravely and sends chills down my spine, goose bumps all over my body, and moisture between my thighs. Oh yeah, that's Jesse Kingston. Okay—back to the hottie that has my mouth and body in zombieland.

I wipe around my mouth, checking for any signs of drool. Oh God. My heart is going eleventy billion miles an hour, I've got tummy flips going on, and my girlie parts are tingling—all this because he's within twenty feet of me? If he touches me I'll likely spontaneously combust.

“Jesse!” Sera calls out.

Unh. She tugs me along behind her as she walks over to him. Oh. My. God.

“Ladies. How are you today?” Oh that smile.

“Good, we're good,” Sera says as she smacks my arm. I give some semblance of a smile, which I'm sure looks hideous. I'm such an idiot. His mouth kicks up into a grin—dimples!

My gaze zeroes in on his piercings. He's got a hoop in his eyebrow and another through his bottom lip. Could he be any sexier? Yes, yes he could. How you might wonder? Well, he's wearing a tight black Chevelle t-shirt and worn, faded, and ripped jeans along with a pair of scuffed black boots. Hot! Both of his arms are full of tattoos that I wish I could focus on, maybe trace with my tongue, but, well, zombieland and I'm not so sure my tongue on his body would be welcome at this point.

Sera rolls her eyes at me. “You're traveling alone?”

He nods. “The band is in L.A.”

She pouts. I know she was hoping to see Falling Down's lead guitarist and Jesse's brother, Ben Kingston. Sera started crushing on him in tenth grade when they came out with their third album that was a bit harder than their previous ones. Her favorite song to date is
My Fantasy
, which was the title song off of that album and spent thirty-seven weeks at the top of the charts.

“My friend, Lucy, would like to get your autograph.” I stand there frozen.

“Is that so, Lucy?”

Still frozen. I refuse to try to speak. I don't want to “unh” in front of him. This is embarrassing enough.

He reaches out to take the pen and paper from my hand and as he leans forward he whispers, “It's okay, Lucy. I won't bite. Well, unless you want me to, of course.” He flashes those straight, white teeth and winks. Whiskey-colored eyes dance with humor and I sigh on the inside because I seriously can't snap out of this, whatever it is.

He signs the paper, taking his time. He caps the pen and places it and the paper in my hand, closing my hand around the items so I don't drop them. He doesn't let go of my hand and my eyes zoom in on that. Holy hell. Jesse Kingston is holding my hand—it was just for a few seconds, but he held my hand! His fingers are slightly callused, no doubt from playing his guitar and wow, am I starting to sweat?

“Are you going to be alright, Lucy?”

“Um…” Hey! It's better than unh.

Sera sighs in exasperation. “She'll be fine. She's just had the biggest crush on you forever.”

I register what she said and vow that as soon as I can move I'm going to kick her ass. And here it comes—the blush. It creeps up my neck to my face. I'm sure I'm a lovely shade of red right now and red is so not my color.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. She's been following your career since you went national your junior year in high school.”

“Wow,” he says with a smile at me. “That's a long time.”

“Yeah, it is. She ran around screaming when your first album debuted and when your video came out she threw a party.”

“That's dedication.”

He's still smiling. I stare at those amazing lips. I want to lick them. Nibble on them and tug on that lip ring a bit with my teeth.

I manage to blink.

“Hey, I think she's coming out of it,” he says.

I shake my head. “Oh my God. I'm so sorry.”

He flashes those pearly whites again—and those dimples. “No worries.”

“I'm Lucy.”

“Nice to meet you Lucy,” he says, that callused thumb caressing my hand as he shakes it, sparks zinging up my arm, more moisture pooling at the apex of my thighs—I am a hormonal teenager and let me tell you this man makes them rage. He reaches out and tucks a strand of my brown hair behind my ear and I don't think my heart can take it.

“Nice to meet you too.” I thrust the pen and autograph toward Sera who takes them.

“Let's walk and talk. I think my flight might be ready.”

“No private plane today?” Ha! Look at me talking normal.

“Nah. Not for just me and the big guys,” he says, pointing to his bodyguards. “When the band travels then we take the jet.”

I nod. God. To have a private jet. Better yet, to be on
their
private jet when they're all on board. Heaven.

“So you're a fan.”

“Mhmm.” We're walking super close, so close our arms are touching as we walk. When our hands brush against one another, he winks at me. Winks! He's seriously tall. I mean, I know from his bio and from going to the concerts he's six-three, but compared to my five-three, he's a giant. His shoulders are broad and I swear I can see his muscles ripple in his stomach as he walks. Another place I'd like to lick. Is it hot in here?

I look at Sera out of the corner of my eye. She's grinning and she fans herself. Definitely hot in here. Like the bodyguards trailing behind us aren't going to tell him she did that? I just bite my bottom lip then grin wide.

“Where are you headed?” he asks.

“L.A.”

“I'm headed back there myself.”

“Oh, were you at Comic Con?”

Jesse's involved with a company that makes comics, ones based on rockers, of course. He heads to as many Comic Cons as he can—I know this because I stal-, uh, follow him online. I would never stalk him. Okay, I do follow him closely sometimes. I sigh. Alright, alright, I follow him closely all the time. I've even got a Google alert. That doesn't make me a stalker. It just makes me a die-hard fan. That's all. I'm sticking with that so shush.

“Good guess. I was. There was a great turnout. It's part of what I love about the Midwest. People have passion and they're not afraid to go the extra mile to show their dedication.”

“Hmmm,” was all I could manage.

“Excuse me while I check in.” He squeezes my shoulder gently, then walks up to the counter, the same counter we checked in at, and the airline chick all but puddles at his feet. Who can blame her? With his wavy, dark hair that touches his collar and those whiskey-colored eyes that had me captivated. Jesse Kingston is a walking, talking bundle of testosterone. A woman's equivalent to a man's walking wet dream.

“Do you think he's on our flight?” I whisper to Sera.

“It looks like it. Holy shit! Jesse Kingston!”

“I think I just fangirled all over the place.”

Sera laughs.

“I can't believe this is happening. This has got to be a dream.”

Sera pinches me—hard.

“Ow! What the fuck?”

“Not a dream. Just proving it to you.”

“You're so violent.”

She shrugs and snaps more photos of Jesse. I didn't notice before, but I think she's been snapping away since she first saw him. I need her to send me those photos. Every single one. I don't care if it's of the back of his head.

Oh, here he comes. His gaze zeroes in on mine and I can't help the smile that pulls across my face. Oh, he is seriously beautiful.

“Looks like the flight will be ready in a few minutes,” he says as he stands in front of me.

“Can I get a picture with you?”

He smiles. “Of course.”

I hand Sera my phone as Jesse leads me over to a less crowded area. He puts his arm around me and, oh my God, does he smell good. Like the ocean and sandalwood and yum. He pulls me closer to him and I wrap my arm around his waist. Oh my, even his side is hard and muscular. Damn. I rest my head against his chest. I'm sure I've got some goofy smile on my face but I honestly don't care.

“All done?” he asks Sera.

No! Keep holding me close.

“Yep.”

Damn.

He turns to face me and there's about an inch of space separating our bodies. Oh this works, though I'm tempted to take that baby step and press myself up against his hard body, maybe even do a little rubbing.

They call for boarding and I can't look away, I'm mesmerized by his gaze, those amazing golden eyes with tiny flecks of green and brown.
No! Don't go. Please don't go, or if you do take me with you!
He doesn't look away until one of the big guys clears his throat signaling it's time to go.

“Lucy. It was really great to meet you.”

I want to shout that he can't leave me, howl at the moon, or flop down at his feet and beg him to never leave me. I can honestly see myself wrapping my arms around his leg and him having to drag me along behind him.

He's holding my hands, both of them, in both of his and I really, really don't want to let go.

“Thank you. And thanks for the autograph and photos.”

He brings my hands to his lips and kisses them. My breath stalls in my chest. “Honestly, it was my pleasure.”

He tilts his head to the side just a bit as if he's trying to figure something out.