Promise Me Not

Mason

Before, September

She’s so beautiful.

Her hair looks longer and a little lighter than it did over summer. FaceTime calls don’t do her justice, and we’ve had plenty of those.

It’s nothing like sitting across from the ocean-eyed blond who talks with her hands and expresses every word with her whole body. She looks…happy. Smiling and laughing.

What makes it even better is every ounce of her attention is locked on me.

Fuck, I like it.

“Oh my god, and when you did that thing where you pretended like you were going to throw the ball and all the other guys slowed and you just ran right past them to the end?”

My smile is fucking geeking, face hurting from its force, but I can’t stop. “It’s called the end zone,” I tease.

“I don’t even care what it’s called. It was so badass!” She chuckles, finally taking a breath as she reaches for her cream soda.

A low laugh leaves me, and I can’t stop staring. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes bright with life, and I wish I could see her this way every day.

I wish I could see her every day, period.

“So can we say you’re an official football fan now?”

A playful scowl crosses her face, and she sits back in her seat. “Too soon to say. It was my first game.”

“Come on now, Pretty Little. Don’t play.” I lean forward, dropping my forearms to the table between us. “We both know you watch me all the time.”

She pretends like she’s making herself gag by pointing a finger in her mouth as she sticks her tongue out. “Someone is full of himself.”

“And someone is very well aware of this fact and likes me anyway.” I grin, and she laughs, shaking her head.

“You’re all right.” She eyes me a moment, fighting a grin by pulling her lips between her teeth.

I raise a dark brow, and she rolls her eyes, that smile breaking free once more.

“God.” She tilts her head. “I don’t know how the girls have dealt with you for so long.”

“Stick around and find out. It’s hard not to love me.”

The words are intended as a joke, but when she flushes and looks away, a strange sensation zips through me, all the way down to my damn toes. I can’t name it, but I don’t hate it. Quite the opposite, in fact.

The gang’s voices grow louder as they come back from the arcade section of the pub, so I set my water down and stand, not ready to share her just yet. Or at all. Ever.

“Come on.”

I offer her a hand, and she hesitates, glancing at the others briefly before taking it. I haul her to her feet and lead us toward the back door. We step out onto the patio and start cruising down the street.

Away from the chaos of the night, I take a deep breath.

“It’s really pretty here,” she murmurs after a few silent minutes, leading us onto a little bridge, a small stream running beneath it.

I nod, agreeing, still surprised she and Parker drove out to catch the game today. I wasn’t expecting it. In fact, they didn’t tell any of us. We found out after the game when we walked to Chase’s truck and there they were. Cameron left with some girls from her dorm, Ari had already taken off back to her room, something she’s been doing a lot lately so I don’t even know if she’s aware they’re here tonight, but Payton hasn’t asked about the girls so…maybe she came for me?

As far as I know, she doesn’t talk to them on the regular like she does me, so does that mean I’m right? Did this gorgeous girl come to my college today just for me?

It’s a little stressful how much I want the answer to be a hard-ass yes.

Payton turns to look at me, tipping her head.

“What?”

“You got quiet,” she says softly. “You okay?”

I chuckle, licking my lips as I look off. “I’m good.”

“Promise?”

My lips twist up, and I nod. “I promise, Pretty Little. Better than good, in fact.”

She stares for a few seconds before glancing back toward the creek.

I do the same, noting the length of it. “I’ve never been out here, actually.”

“No?” She sounds pleased.

Does she like that I’m here with her first?

Fuck, bro. Chill.

You sound like a bitch. It’s a creek, hardly even that, not Niagara Falls.

“I stick to campus mostly.”

“Such a good boy, Mason Johnson.”

“I didn’t say that,” I tease, giving a devilish smirk.

She chuckles, looking away. “No, actually I bet you’re not.”

A small frown builds across my brow at her words, even if they are just in response to mine, but I was being a blatant flirt, and I think she might have taken it differently.

I want to tell her I’m not out here chasing a good time, nor am I allowing myself to be caught by someone else who is.

It’s strange to say, but I’m not the same guy I was when I met her a couple of months ago.

Something changed, and it might have everything to do with the girl standing beside me.

Payton stares out at the night, and I watch as her hand falls to her belly.

I wince, waiting for the stiffness to settle in her shoulders as it usually does, but it never comes. In fact, she smiles, spreading her fingers out wider. It’s really good to see.

Her belly is bigger now, a perfect little basketball you can’t even see from the back. It looks hard and painful, and suddenly, I’m anxious.

“We should go back. Sit you down and put your feet up or something, and I can get you some ice or a heating pad or whatever and⁠—”

My rambling dies on my lips the second her little palm presses to my chest. My eyes snap to the contact, the heat of her skin somehow seeping through the thick material of my hoodie. I swallow and ever so slowly lift my gaze to hers and hold it there. The humor in her blue eyes fades by the second, a subtle but not missed shift happening around us.

Her lips part, and in what I might call slow motion, her hand draws back, and the weirdest fucking thing happens.

I physically miss the way it felt. Literally. I frown, and she drops her eyes to the ground.

When she lifts her head again, it’s with a soft smile, but there’s an uncertainty to it this time. I don’t like it. Want to take it away.

So I step forward, grab her hand, and put it back, holding it there.

“Don’t shy away from me, okay?” I don’t know what the words mean, and by the way her features pull, she doesn’t either, but they feel right, so I keep going. “Anything you ever want to say to me, to tell me or show me or ask me, do it. No matter what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours…don’t shy away. Not ever from me.”

“What if what I want to say will upset you?” she whispers.

My pulse pounds harder, and I try not to overthink that. Try and fail. “Say it anyway.”

“Are you sure?” She bites her lip.

Shit. Am I? The fuck is this twisty shit going on in my stomach right now?

I shift her, putting her back to the bridge, her front to me, suddenly needing her to say whatever the hell is on her mind. “Say it.”

She nods, looking away, then peeks up at me through her lashes. “I…”

Here we go.

“I think the other team had better uniforms.”

I tense and then throw my head back on a laugh, Payton joining in at the same time.

“You should have seen your face.” She giggles. “You looked like you were expecting me to say the end of the world was coming and you’d never get your day in the big leagues.”

“That’s baseball.” When her mouth tugs to one side, I narrow my gaze. “But you knew that…”

“I did.” She smiles, proud, her blue eyes shining.

Before I can stop myself, before I even realize what I’m doing, my knuckles are sliding across her cheek.

Payton’s lips part on a gasp. It’s soft, nearly unnoticeable, but it happened.

Heat zips through me at the sound, and I tense.

Our gazes lock, and she smiles timidly, her hard belly pressed to my abdomen. Slowly, the hand that was holding on to hers rises once more, but before it reaches its destination, my eyes snap to hers for permission.

Payton nods, pressing on the back of my hand until my palm meets the cotton of her shirt.

I hold her eyes a moment, then drop them to the contact.

“It’s…”

“Weird?” she impishly adds.

“Nah,” I whisper, sliding my hand along the perfect curve. “I guess I thought it would feel hard, and it does, but it’s also, I don’t know. Soft?”

“You should feel him kick.”

I smile at that, looking back at her for a long moment, overcome with concern. “You’re getting close, huh?”

She nods, then stiffens, making me more uneasy. “December’s not so far away anymore.”

“Tell me what you need.”

Her eyes pop up.

“Tell me what you need,” I repeat.

Payton’s grin is soft then. She shuffles a bit so she can step away, and my hands fall from her. She starts walking back the way we came, and I fight the urge to hold her still.

I don’t want to go back inside.

I don’t want to share her with the guys.

It’s irrational and ridiculous, and I roll my eyes internally.

“I’m good, Mase. Nothing to do but wait for him to be ready to meet the world.”

There’s a sorrow in her tone I don’t like, so I wrap my arm around her shoulders and tug her close.

“Well then. In the meantime, let’s go back to our earlier conversation where you tell me how awesome I am at football…even if I’m the second-string quarterback and only played for two minutes the entire game.”

Payton laughs loudly, and when she looks up at me with those big blue eyes, I can’t look away.

“Well, go on, then. Talk me up.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“I think you like that about me.”

Smiling, she shakes her head and faces forward. “I think you’ve got a big head.”

“I most definitely do.”

She looks down, humor shaking her shoulders. When she finally glances back, I give her an expectant expression, and she sighs.

“Fine.” She tugs away, clearing her throat as she makes a fist, bring it to her mouth as if it’s a microphone.

I chuckle, and she covers her face.

“OMG. I can’t do it if you tease.”

“Okay, okay.” I raise my palms, clamping my lips shut.

Her eyes narrow, then she clears her throat again.

“Avix University took the win tonight, a feat that wouldn’t have been possible without the one and only Mason Johnson!” She speaks animatedly, flinging her free hand all around. “Mason played like he was made of magic. He’s like no others we’ve seen, with an effortless elegance about the way he moves. The man is fluid in every shift of his body. Precise in every intention. He’s what dreams are made of, Avix U’s very own Greek god!”

She’s laughing by the end of it, this time covering her rosy-red cheeks with both hands.

“Damn, woman.” My grin spreads. “I’m impressed. You know jack shit about football and made that sound good.”

A shy sort of smile curls her lips, and she lifts a shoulder with a shrug. “I wanted to be a reporter when I was younger. I might have spent a lot of time practicing in front of the mirror.”

“Obviously.” She scrunches her nose in a feisty little scowl, and I keep going, liking how playful she’s being tonight. “And, hey, you nailed everything about me. I actually am the shit…again even if all that wasn’t true and I only played for two minutes.”

“There were only four touchdowns made tonight, Mase. It took your team the entire game to make three. You made one in less than two minutes.” She glances my way. “That’s something to be proud of.”

Her words sink deeper than they should, all the way to a part of me the praise of others has yet to touch. It’s…a lot. A sort of tense feeling, one wrapped in confusion and laced with a small sense of panic.

Does she really think all that?

Was that just part of the fun?

Does she like watching me out there?

Bro. Chill.

I laugh off the feeling and start walking, Payton falling in step at my side.

“Careful, Pretty Little. Wouldn’t want you to give me a big head or anything.”

“I think that ship has sailed.”

“Then you must be the captain.”

Payton peeks my way with a grin. “Whatever you say, Superstar.”

I say I might not be the only one in this…