Promise Me Not

Mason

Before, November

I wake with a wheeze, pain cording through me like venom entering the bloodstream, making it hard to fucking breathe. My entire body aches as if I were hit by a dump truck, then tossed into it with a load for compaction.

My lungs can’t stretch past half-full, and my ass is sore from being in a sitting position all through the night. I turn my head, my jaw clenching at the strain it puts on my shoulder, and I spot my phone on the nightstand. I try to reach for it, but it feels like I’m being torn in two.

“Fuck,” I pant, and the short gasps only make everything hurt even worse. “Ahh,” I groan as I toss my legs over the side of the bed, taking short and quick exhales as I tug myself over until my feet can reach the floor.

My eyes squeeze closed, and sweat beads at my forehead from the little exertion. I’m so fucked, my muscles screaming ten times louder today.

My attention falls to the wraps along my ribs, and I glare at the sling holding my throwing arm against me.

Images of the moment before my body was thrown into the air flash before me, and I grind my teeth. I should have seen them coming. Evaded. Cut in the other direction or threw away the ball.

I should have dipped or ran or… “Fuck!”

Shaking my head, I stretch my left arm out, my limb shaking as my fingers brush the edge of my phone. My cheeks expand from the effort, and I have to slip a little more off the mattress to grab it, but I can’t get a good grip. It falls to the floor with a thud.

“God damn it!” I scream, just as muted shouting reaches my ears.

My head snaps toward the bedroom door, and with slow movements, I push myself to my feet.

I release a sharp exhale, the stretch of my stomach almost opening my lungs up a little, but the pressure of my broken ribs creeps in a moment after. The pain’s too much, so I stand still a moment, trying to focus on the sounds coming from outside the room in order to forget the knife fight happening inside my body. At first, I think I’m hearing things, but then it sounds again.

My brows dip, and I drag my ass from Ari’s room, my temporary room since mine is upstairs, and head toward the living room. As I come around the corner, the giant television stares back at me.

My eyes snap across the screen, taking in every detail, every player, and slice back just in time to watch as my body flies into the air, spinning from hits from both directions. My helmet is torn off on impact, and I’m slamming onto the turf with a thunderous boom.

There’s a sharp gasp, and I realize it’s not coming from the replay.

My head jerks left.

Payton stands at the edge of the couch, fingers pressed to her lips, staring up at my seemingly lifeless body on the screen.

I must move, because her head suddenly yanks my way, and she pales, fumbling with the remote to turn it off, but I reach her before she can, wrapping my palm around hers.

Big blue eyes fly up to mine, tears and an apology written within them.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“For what? Caring enough to want to know what happened?” I hit play, my gaze moving between hers and the announcer’s worried words playing from the speakers around us as I give her the real details. “Two fractured ribs and a sprained shoulder.”

Her lip trembles, and there’s a whole other kind of pain behind my ribs.

“Don’t cry.” My free hand lifts of its own accord, thumb trailing along the soft plumpness of her mouth. “Not for me. I can’t take it.”

Her attention falls to my body, fingers coming up and gingerly touching the wraps across my skin. She traces every inch and starts to shake a little. “Are you okay?”

With one finger beneath her chin, I tilt her head up, our gazes connecting.

I was planning on saying something, but the second those big blue eyes collide with mine, my train of thought disappears. All that’s left is this deep-seated need to touch my lips to hers. To press farther against her and see how close I can get, though I’m already aware the answer would be not close enough.

I need more.

I want more…and I don’t think I’m the only one.

Her fingers fan out across my chest, the tiniest part of her pinkie now pressing to the naked skin just above my wraps, and fuck me. A shudder slashes through me.

Something shifts in her gaze, and the world falls away—my injuries, the pain. The crushing sense of loss.

It’s all gone.

She’s all that’s left.

My hand glides along her jaw until I’m cupping her cheek in my palm.

She doesn’t blink, just stares straight into my eyes with this endless intensity. Her lips part, pretty blue eyes widening as her fingers bite into me a little more, and all I can think is Yes. Dig them deeper. Mark me more.

My muscles clench, my pulse jumps, and then something knocks against my stomach. Once. Twice.

We both freeze. A small frown pulls at my brows, and then it happens a third time.

Slowly, I look down. “Is…is that…”

“Yeah,” she whispers, my free hands already on its way to her pregnant belly.

She takes half a step back.

I take a full step forward, pressing my palm against the front, and the baby kicks again.

A smile breaks across my face instantly, and I look at her.

There are tears in her eyes again, but there’s also more. Something deeper.

Something almost…raw. It thumps against my chest walls, a sensation too profound to put into words yet too delicate to understand.

It’s heavy and light at the same time.

A weightless force, drawing me to her.

Calling me to her.

My torso tips, my upper body curling over her tiny frame. A hiss instantly whooshes past my lips, my muscles screaming in disapproval, my body having moved on its own without thought or care to its condition.

Her eyes fly wide, and she pulls away, blinking rapidly. “Oh my god, you need to sit down.”

She goes to step by me, but my good hand flies out, latching on to her before she can. She gasps, looking up at me with a desperate sort of confusion, the same emotions flitting through my own mind, but I don’t care to listen right now. Not to my body or my mind.

“Pretty Little,” I rasp, her mouth the North Star to my broken compass, leading me fucking home.

“Well, fucking, well!”

Payton literally jumps at the sound of Lolli’s voice, and both of us look toward the back door.

Payton smiles sheepishly, and I frown at my cousin’s girl.

“I brought French toast.” Lolli smirks, holding up a plate of food. “Unless of course you’re hungry for something a little more…” Her saucy tone trails off when she notices my bandages, her face pinching with worry.

I tense instantly, heat crawling up my neck, and I go to turn away, but then the little blond beside me jerks forward, using her tiny body to try and hide my much bigger one from view. Like she’s protecting me, and just like that, the black cloud hanging over me turns a lighter shade of gray.

“Thanks, Lolli,” Payton says swiftly, rushing her way and taking the plate from her. She sets it on the counter with one hand, clasping Lolli’s bicep with the other, shocking the shit out of me when she leads Lolli all the way to the door, gently nudges her out of it, and, with a tone that brooks no argument yet somehow still holds gratitude, says, “I’ll let you know if we need anything else.”

Alone on the other side of the glass doors, Lolli gapes from her to me, but Payton’s not done. She yanks the sheer curtains across the window, closing us off completely before she spins to face me.

And I’m. Fucking. Stuck.

She holds me captive as she walks back this way, tucking her long blond hair behind her ear with one hand and snagging the plate of food with the other. Payton grabs my fingers, and I let her lead me to the couch, where she shoves some pillows in the corner. She doesn’t let me go until I’m sitting back against them, and then she lowers onto the coffee table in front of me.

She bends, digging into something at the foot of the couch, and when she says “Open,” I don’t question her.

I open my mouth, and she drops two pills inside before lifting a cup with a straw to my mouth. My lips wrap around it, eyes on hers the entire time.

I release it, and she grabs the plate, setting it on my lap.

“Here.” She pushes to her feet, rushing toward the back door. “Now that they know I’m here, I’m going to go home and grab some things.”

I watch as she slides her feet into a pair of sandals, my pulse beating a little harder at her words. “Things?”

Her head lifts, gaze finding mine over her shoulder. “I need to take care of you.” A small frown pulls at her brows. “Please don’t say you don’t need me here.”

“I want you here.”

Her hand freezes on the handle, and for a moment, she just stares.

I didn’t mean to be so blunt, but there it is, and my response has nothing to do with my injuries.

In truth, she’s the last person I want to see me like this, all busted up and weak, yet somehow, at the same time, the reality of my situation is a little less devastating when mixed with her presence. Like maybe my entire world didn’t come crashing down and maybe this isn’t the end of it all. Sitting in that hospital, I felt like my entire life had fallen apart. It was all I could think about on the trip back to Oceanside, how things might have changed for me forever.

That I’d lost everything I worked for, my future included.

Then there she was with big blue eyes and the softest fucking touch I’ve ever felt. She sat beside me and smiled, and everything else fell away because it was a real smile. One without all the pain I’ve watched her carry the last several months.

I knew right then I not only wanted her to stay, but I needed her to. I just didn’t know if I could say that to her, so when exhaustion hit and the pain doubled, I used it as an excuse to go into another room. I would have rested on the couch next to her, but I didn’t want to have to watch her walk out.

Yet here she is, still here hours later, and she’s not asking if she can stay.

She’s telling me she’s going to.

A ripple rolls through me, realization breaking through the last layer of fog in my mind.

There’s no more maybe.

No more I might.

All that’s left is I am.

Because I am completely fucking gone on this girl.

I don’t know how it happened, and I don’t care when.

All I know is she snuck up on me, and I’m not mad about it.

Someone’s shouts intrude from outside the cracked-open door, and the moment is broken.

Payton slips onto the back patio, and I drop my head back with a huff.

The minute I’m alone, it’s like the light she brought left with her. All the negative thoughts come rolling back, coiling around my limbs like a snake has snatched me as its prey.

Fangs forge their way into my lungs, and I gasp. I blink, but the haze won’t clear, my heart now working overtime, threatening to tear through my rib cage. I try to swallow, but knots form in my chest, panic threatening to suffocate me where I sit.

I’m an athlete who can’t play. A student who can’t go to school. A man who can’t protect.

I’m completely. Fucking. Useless.