The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1) (58 page)

I giggle, comforted by her overwhelming amount of love for me. My amusement disappears almost just as fast as it arrives when I
’
m struck with a thought that hadn
’
t occurred to me until just now.
What if Beck and I never get back together and I lose his family, too? His mom and dad and Kenzie are my second home!

I force myself to not follow that train of thought. I remind myself that I
’
m living in the realm of
trust
and I can
’
t allow
what ifs
to plague my thoughts anymore. If I do, all the trust in the world won
’
t stop me from receding into the realm of depression, ruled by fear.

I take a deep breath before I force myself to respond.
“
Kenzie, maybe give him a break.
”

“
Excuse me?
”
I can
hear
her arched eyebrow through the phone.

“
It
’
s just
…
it
’
s complicated. He
’
s doing what he feels is best.
”

“
B.S.!
Why are you defending him, Addie? Are you
okay
with all of this?
”
She doesn
’
t give me a chance to respond before she continues with her rant.
“
This is
crazy
. You two are meant for each other. Everybody knows it. You
’
ve been together for a quarter of my
existence
, for crying out loud! If you don
’
t get back together, I
’
ll never speak to him again
—
because it
’
ll be all his fault and I
’
ll always blame him for ruining everything and robbing me of my hope of ever finding a love like yours
—”

“
Whoa, whoa, whoa! Kenz! Stop.
”
She obeys and I have to take a breath. Her outburst, on top of my already fragile state, just about pushes me over the edge; and the tears I was proud of holding back earlier are crawling their way up my throat. It kills me that the outcome of my relationship with her brother could possibly
rob her of her hope of finding a love like ours
.

For a second, my thoughts drift toward Roman
—
Roman and Kathryn.
I wonder how their breakup affected their families and friends. I never thought to ask. The shift in my relationship with Beck has been so difficult, it
’
s hard to imagine how it touches anyone else but him and me. Our friends, who have been here to watch this whole thing unfold, they have a different vantage point than most. They
’
re all really supportive.
But there is a difference between friends and family, isn
’
t there? Friends can keep both of us, no matter what
—
but what about family? Does Roman keep in touch with Kathryn
’
s parents? Did she have siblings he was close to? Or was Kathryn close with Daphne?

I shake my questions away. This isn
’
t about them. In this moment, it isn
’
t about anyone except for Kenzie and me.
“
Listen, no matter what
—
you
’
ll always have me, okay?
”

It takes her a minute to respond. When she does, she sounds so down that I can no longer stop the tears.
“
Okay. But
…
you know it
’
s not just me I
’
m worried about, right? He
’
ll never be the same without you.
”

The wound that was inflicted four weeks ago by way of our breakup
—
the one I
’
ve been covering up with novels and yoga and brownies and pineapple-upside-down pancakes and work and new friends
—
it feels as though it
’
s been ripped open, my pathetic bandaids rendered useless by her words.
I can
’
t take it. I just
…
can
’
t
.
“
Kenz?
”
I manage.
“
Can we not talk about it? Please? Can we talk about something else? Anything else?
”

“
Yeah, Addie. I
’
m sorry! Let
’
s talk about something else.
”

I let her steer the conversation for the next half an hour and then she
’
s called away by her mom. I promise that the next time I
’
m in town
—
which will be in just a few days, as my mom
’
s birthday and Father
’
s Day are both next weekend
—
that we
’
ll get together and I
’
ll take her out. We say our goodbyes and then I throw myself back against my pillows. While it was good to hear her voice and I look forward to seeing her next weekend, the emotional backlash makes me desperate for an escape
—
and definitely to a place more distracting than my current novel can take me.

I roll out of bed and make my way to Sarah
’
s room, knocking softly before I enter. She
’
s propped up in bed with her computer in her lap, no doubt stuck in a Facebook trance.
“
Hey,
”
she murmurs as I make myself comfortable at the foot of her bed.

“
Hey. Do you want to go somewhere later? I need to get out.
”

“
Are you okay?
”
she asks, closing her laptop so she can focus all of her attention on me.

“
Yeah. Sort of
…
I just
—”
I stop, unsure how to explain myself without crying.

“
No explanation needed,
”
she insists, putting up a hand to stop me.
“
Where are we going?
”

Before I can answer, my phone starts ringing again. It
’
s still in my hand and I can
’
t help the groan that pathetically spills from my mouth at the thought of someone calling me.
That didn
’
t exactly go so well for me forty-five minutes ago
. I slide my finger across the screen without paying attention to who might be trying to reach me, anxious to get the conversation over with.
“
Hello?
”

“
Hey, Addie? It
’
s Roman.
”

“
Oh. Hi.
”
We had exchanged numbers a couple weeks ago, but neither of us have put them to use yet, and I wasn
’
t expecting to hear his voice on the other end of the call.
“
What
’
s up?
”

“
I
’
m still at work, so I only have a minute, but Daph just dropped by on her way to the cafe. She told me about this open mic night they
’
re doing later
—
it
’
s a slam poetry thing. I don
’
t really know anyone else who would be interested, but then I thought of you. Do you want to go?
”

I cough out a relieved sigh as I look over at Sarah.
“
Is it alright if Sarah comes, too?
”

“
Sure. It starts at seven. Meet you both there?
”

“
Yeah. Thanks for thinking of me.
”

“
Of course. I
’
ll see you later.
”

I mimic his goodbye before smiling at my best friend, who is currently wearing a look of curiosity.
“
That was Roman. We
’
re going to go see some open mic night slam poetry.
”

“
That
’
s random, but okay,
”
she says before a sly grin tugs at her lips.
“
I
’
ve never hung out with Mr. Yoga outside of work. This should be fun.
”
She wiggles her eyebrows at me teasingly and I laugh, grateful for the distraction that already seems to be my first replacement bandaid to re-cover my aching wound.

“
You
so
like him.
”

“
Hate to disappoint you, Twinkles, but I
’
m
so
not going there. He
’
s too hot for his own good. Now
—
help me figure out what to wear, tonight.
”
I beam at her, aware that her statements contradict themselves in a totally Avery-like way. I don
’
t mention it, though, and before I know it, we
’
re both lost in her closet.

When Avery and I get back to the apartment after our lunch date, we find it empty. I certainly won
’
t complain about that, as I
’
m more than happy to continue spending time alone in her company. She excuses herself to the bathroom and I make myself comfortable on the couch, reaching for the remote before switching on the TV. I flip to the guide channel, curious to see what movies might be playing this afternoon, knowing that if I put on sports, Avery will just end up falling asleep. I love that about her
—
that she won
’
t complain when that
’
s my preference, but rather snuggle up with me and use it as an excuse for a nap.

Then again, I love
everything
about her.

She comes back just as I switch the channel to a comedy flick. It
’
s already half over and I wonder if I should pick something else, and then Avery
’
s straddling my lap and I realize that won
’
t be necessary. I toss away the remote and slide my hands around her waist as I stare into her eyes. Ever since the weekend of her birthday, we
’
ve been growing closer and closer. I know we trusted each other before and considered one another pretty good friends, but this is different.

With Avery, there is intimacy that I
’
ve never known
—
which blows my mind because we
’
ve never even come close to taking each other
’
s clothes off while in the heat of a moment. I didn
’
t know that a relationship could be like this; that vulnerability, honesty, and patience could amount to
this
. It makes me love her more, which would scare me if she didn
’
t make me feel
…
safe
—
but she does.
I'll admit it to anyone who asks without fear of sounding like a punk
. I don't care how it sounds, only how it feels
—
warm and calm and constant and better than anything I've ever experienced with another human being. The only thing that scares me is the thought that I could screw it all up.
It would be me. I know that she would never hurt me. She loves me and she never hides it from me or uses it against me
—
she just
gives
it to me.