Promise Me Not

Payton

Now

The sweet sound of my little boy’s whimpers has my eyes opening.

I frown, my brain taking a moment to realize where I am, and my gaze finally snaps to the monitor on the coffee table before me. My muscles settle, a soft smile covering my lips as I stare at my sleeping baby boy on the screen.

I lean forward to grab it but freeze instantly when something tightens around me. My head snaps down to find an arm wrapped around my middle.

Mason.

Chase.

Deaton…

The night comes rushing back, and I swiftly tug myself off the couch, glancing back just as his eyes open.

“Hey.” Chase eyes me warily, moving into a sitting position on the couch.

“Hey,” I breathe, meekly tucking my hair behind my ear as I glance away. My eyes fall to the bag sitting at the edge of the table. I drop my chin to my chest, guilt settling over me as heavy as always.

“What time is it?” he wonders, his voice groggy.

We both look to the clock on the back wall.

It’s just after three in the morning.

Chase swipes his hands down his face and scoots to the edge of the cushion, snagging his phone from the floor.

I bury my face in my hands. “God, Chase I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to come like that. You just got back to school, and you have shit going on and⁠—”

“No one forced me to come here, Payton.” When I look up at him, he continues. “I know what it’s like to have a lot of people who love you and still feel like you have no one to talk to.”

“You can talk to me if you want.”

His lips curl to one side. “I know.”

We stare at each other for a long, quiet moment before I finally speak.

“I never got to thank you.”

He tips his head. “For what?”

“For that night,” I whisper, tugging at the hem of my hoodie. “I was a disaster, and your best friends needed you, and you just…stayed with me, the whole time. You probably think I was too out of it to know, and most of it is foggy, but I remember you being there. So thank you.”

Chase gives an understanding smile, but that smile slowly fades, and he curses as he looks away. “Today is…or was…”

I nod, dropping my head back to look up at the speckled ceiling. “One year since he was taken.”

“That’s why Mason was here.” It’s not a question. Neither is what he says next. “And you didn’t call him tonight.”

My eyes sting, but I swallow the self-pity, undeserving of such a thing, and shake my head.

Another curse leaves him, and this time when he looks at me, there’s something deeper in his gaze. “I have to go.” He swallows, looking off. “I don’t want to, but I have to.”

Something tells me his decision to leave isn’t just about the time, but I don’t mention that.

“I know. Thank you for coming. Sorry for turning back into the girl I was that night. I thought I had a handle on her, but…well.” I shrug.

Chase nods but sits there for several long moments in silence before rising to his feet. He opens his mouth to say or ask something but seems to change his mind. “We’ll talk soon?”

My eyes grow cloudy, but I agree. “Yeah. Talk soon.”

With that, he walks out the front door, and I lie back where I sit, my eyes closing.

That night at the hospital flashes through my mind, the days, weeks, and months that followed rolling right behind it, and a heaviness settles over me, but somewhere in that stormy cloud of pain and confusion is a tender touch of something else, like silk sewn beneath a weighted blanket.

I thought no one knew what today was, and I didn’t want the worry—or pity—of mentioning it.

But someone did know.

He knew. He knew and he came.

“Just in case you needed me.” His raspy, raw voice flows through me, bringing the warmth I’ve missed back to my shredded soul. Of course the moment it does, guilt rides right in like liquid nitrogen and turns it to ice.

Fighting a scream, I punch at the carpet beneath me, my teeth clenching as I throw my hands through my hair.

Chase was freshly showered in sweats and a hoodie.

Mason still had his cleats on his feet.

He came straight here. He came for me because he knew how hard today would be.

The look on his face when he saw Chase will haunt me endlessly.

Mason came just in case I needed him.

Chase came because I asked him to.

My bottom lip trembles, and I wish desperately that things were different.

I have to remind myself this is for the best. Self-preservation at its finest.

Or worst, depending on how you look at it.

Maybe now he’ll realize I’m not worth the wait or the trouble. He has his whole life ahead of him. I’m on the cusp of eighteen with a baby and a questionable future. He’s the starting quarterback for Avix University and an NFL hopeful.

A smile graces my lips, a tear slipping down my cheek. God, I’m so proud of him.

He’s living the dream he shared with me, and I couldn’t be happier for the man who brought me back to life without my realizing it.

You don’t deserve happiness. Not when you stole that chance from Deaton.

Brick after brick falls on my chest, crushing my lungs until I’m gasping and falling onto my hands and knees.

I pant and cry, and eventually…I pass out.

Mason

Coach blows the whistle, and I drop back as my receiver zips down the field, running his route. He does a little stutter step, as if juking a defender, and the ball sails from my fingertips. I watch as he slants right, the ball dropping straight into his arms. A perfect fucking pass.

I step back, and my alternate slides in, my lips pinching tightly as he does the same, and then I roll in again. This receiver is slower than the other, his footwork not as smooth, so I hold a split second longer, then fire.

Catch.

“Better hope your line is strong, Johnson.” Alister Howl, the wannabe me taunts, stepping into the pocket. “Wouldn’t want you to get sacked and break some more ribs. Or was it the shoulder?”

Before I know I’m doing it, I’m jerking toward him, but my jersey is caught around the neck, and I’m tugged back.

My eyes snap up, staring at the familiar green ones through the dark blue face mask.

“Don’t.” Chase snaps around his mouthpiece, scowling from me to the new fucking punk. “Focus.”

I scoff, tear away, and slam my left shoulder into Alister hard enough to make him stumble.

“Bitch,” he hisses, looking away when Coach’s head snaps our way.

The asshole has an issue with me, and he made it obvious on day one, but hey, I’m the guy he has to beat if he wants a spot on the roster that’s worth a damn. Assuming that’s what’s got his jockstrap twisted so tight.

Again, a receiver runs his route, my feet moving without thought, working on muscle memory.

Money shot.

I shuffle back, swiftly pressing my chest into Alister’s as he slides forward. “Don’t worry, backup boy. My line is fucking solid.”

He glares, angrily snagging a ball off the cart and stepping up again.

Chase flies down the field like a demon on wheels, nailing his route, but Alister misjudges his speed and distance. Chase is standing there waiting for the ball to drop for a full second.

Alister spits on the ground, and I know Chase is smirking around his mouthpiece.

He’s always got my back.

My glare is instant, images of last night flashing through my mind, and I clench my teeth.

So, what, he’s got her back now, too?

Since when?

Why?

Why am I being such a bitch about it?

I want her to have all the support she needs and more…but I want her to want it all from me first.

I thought she did.

I pick up another ball and go again. And again.

I was the first to hit the field, and three hours later, I’m the last to step off it.

“You good?” Brady asks when I finally walk into the locker room, his bag already packed and hanging over his shoulder.

“Yup.” I move right past him.

“Want me to wait?”

“Nope.”

I keep going, stepping right into the shower, and I stay there until I’m pruned.

When I move back into the row of my locker, both Brady and Chase are sitting there playing on their phones.

They waited for me.

The tension in my chest eases a bit, and I can’t help the small smile that pulls at my lips as I tug on my clothes. This is what friends are for, to understand that even if you say you don’t want them around, they know you’re better off when they are.

Brady can tell I’m off today, and Chase likely thinks he knows why.

I kind of want to scream and yell at him, demand answers, but at the end of the day, I’m too fucking scared to hear what they are. We’ve fought enough this past year when everything went down with my sister, and I can’t afford that shit right now. I love the little prick like a brother.

Once my bag is stuffed with my shit, they stand.

“Pizza with the girls?” Brady raises a brow.

“Pizza with the girls.”

As we walk out, I can’t help but remember the time I had pizza with a different girl.

That was the night I realized she wasn’t just the girl I wanted to be there for.

She is so much fucking more.