Promise Me This: a friends to lovers, slow burn romance (Wilder Family Book 3)

Chapter 15

It took me a long time to move from where she’d left me, staring at my hand curled into a fist on the surface of the table. Something felt off. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but under the surface of my skin, it was almost like someone turned a wrench one too many times, and the pieces inside me didn’t fit together right, straining at the edges from too much force.

Upstairs, I could hear Sage and Harlow move around, the water in their bathroom flipped on and off, the low hum of their conversation inaudible as I finally got up and moved from the kitchen, wandering into my bedroom and shutting the door behind me with a quiet click. For a moment, I sank against it and let my head rest on the hard surface.

Outside, the wind picked up, strong gusts that caused creaking in the joints of the roof and walls. It only added to that unease inside me that was churning louder and louder, a steady buzzing in the back of my head. I busied myself by putting away a load of laundry and stripping the sheets off my bed. The front door closed with a slam, and I knew Sage had left for the night.

I’d been so worried that I overstepped with Harlow, and not only was that not the case, I couldn’t help but worry that the growing disquiet stemmed from somewhere—something—else between us. Anxiety over what that was gnawed at the edges of my mind, leaving behind a knotty mess that I didn’t want to look too closely at.

Through the walls, with the wind gusting outside, I could hear the running water of the shower in the upstairs bathroom. Why was it so loud? I’d never really noticed it before. Chest heaving as I took a few deep breaths, my hands shook slightly as I tugged on new clean sheets over my king-size mattress, my mind ruthlessly focusing on the task in front of me. The elastic edge snapped uselessly off the corner where I hadn’t affixed it properly because I yanked too hard, too quickly.

I stood, inhaling slowly through my nose with my hand on my hips. Pushing my tongue into the side of my cheek, I bent and got the fitted sheet hooked on, then smoothed out the rest of the bedding. The house creaked again, the wind picking up.

As I tossed the pillows up against the solid wood headboard, I didn’t worry too much about making it look neat because with the howling wind, the groan of the water coming through the pipes, I was too distracted to think about what the fucking bed looked like. A glance at the weather app on my phone showed a storm front rolling in, and I grimaced just as the sound of the shower cut off.

Instead of pinching my eyes shut, rolling through all the ramifications of a finished shower, I focused on the sound of the angry weather outside. It was like a mirror to what was happening inside me. External forces pushed and pushed and pushed, testing the limits of how strong the foundation was.

Right now, my foundation felt like a house of fucking cards. One stiff burst of air coming from the wrong direction, and I’d topple.

It wasn’t raining yet, no slow rolls of thunder shaking the windows, no lightning flashes filling the rooms. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as another gust of wind cut through the house, the creaking more ominous than it was before. And just on the heels of it, the lights flickered but came back on.

I held my breath and waited a few more seconds, already thinking about where the generator was in the barn and if I had enough gas to power it through the night if necessary. I left my bedroom, phone tucked into the back pocket of my jeans when the lights cut out again.

They didn’t come back on.

A loud thump from upstairs had my head snapping up, and after I clicked on the flashlight on my phone, I took the steps two at a time, calling her name as I cleared the top one.

The bathroom door whipped open just as I reached out to knock on it, and I collided with a very wet, very naked Harlow, wrapped only in a small towel. When she ran smack into my chest, she squeaked, her hands clutching at the towel to keep it around her. The cell phone bounced off the ground, the light almost immediately extinguished when it landed face down. My arms wrapped around her to keep us from falling, my breath snarled to a halt in my throat, and the ends of her hair dripped over my forearm.

All around me was the damp, fragrant smell of citrus and soap and the wet towel around her body did nothing to disguise the weight of her body against mine. A brick in my throat kept me from swallowing properly, and something else entirely diverted the blood flow from my brain. It was the only explanation because I didn’t immediately pull back. Why wasn’t I pulling back?

“Hi,” she whispered. “It’s really dark in that bathroom when the lights go out.”

My hands tightened briefly around the curve of her waist. “I heard something,” I whispered back. “Are you okay?”

Being devoid of the sense of sight, everything else was heightened, and I was strangely glad I couldn’t see her face. Because if I could see hers, then she could see mine. Without the benefit of a mirror to show my reflection, I could feel the deep furrow of my brow as my fingers cataloged the way her waist flared out to her hips. My breath came in short pants when she didn’t answer right away. A sharp inhale hung between us, and the press of her knuckles were hard against my chest where she clutched that towel to her lush, damp skin.

Her rib cage expanded on another breath before she answered. “I tripped over the edge of the tub. It was very graceful.”

“I bet.”

Harlow cleared her throat and gently extricated herself from my grasp, and I sucked in a lungful of air and thought about jolly old England because fucking hell, I was half hard from holding my naked best friend in a dark hallway.

“I’m, uh, a little too … not clothed right now,” she said with an embarrassed laugh. “And I think maybe I should remedy that before the lights come back on?”

Even though I didn’t answer—couldn’t answer—she wisely took my silence as tacit agreement.

My feet wouldn’t move, my hands curled into those fists again as she brushed past me down the hallway, and I watched the shadow of her move toward her bedroom door. Through the window in her bedroom, enough weak light came through that I saw her outline.

The lights flipped back on, and the harsh brightness of it had me wincing slightly. Harlow was half visible behind her door, and her wide eyes were locked on mine, her hand white-knuckled on the black towel wrapped around her chest.

There was so much skin on display, long legs and shoulders and arms and even though I would not look, in my peripheral vision, I saw the rise and fall of cleavage that I’d definitely never seen.

What I saw in her face had my muscles tight, my pulse thundering. I kept my eyes locked on hers, because nothing good came from looking lower. Looking at all was going to cause nothing but trouble.

It was only a matter of time, Jax had said. What a horrible fucking moment to remember what that asshole said. With my own white-knuckled grip, I tore my gaze from hers and rubbed the back of my neck. “I’ll get the generator moved out of the barn, just in case.”

As I started to turn away, she said my name. I paused, looking over my shoulder.

“Don’t do any extra work on my account. I’m going to meet Poppy and Ivy for drinks, actually. So … I’ll be gone the next couple of hours.”

“Good,” I said, my voice so fucking rough it sounded like I’d chewed on sandpaper. I cleared my throat and nodded. “That’s good. My brother, uh, invited me out too. Maybe I’ll take him up on it.”

“Look at us being social,” she said lightly.

I wasn’t sure what I said in response, if I smiled, or grunted, or anything. All I knew was that if I stayed in that house for another minute longer, I’d lose my mind. And my mind was the one thing I needed to be in control of right now. Three minutes later, I pushed through the front door and let the roar of the truck engine drown out everything in my brain.

“What changed your mind about coming out?” Cameron asked, talking loudly enough over the music that I could hear him. “It’s because Harlow was going to be gone, isn’t it?”

After giving him a long look, I shook my head. “Just didn’t feel like sitting home.”

He cocked an eyebrow but miraculously accepted my answer. Jax’s gaze flitted over the faces at the bar on Main Street, and I saw him lift his bottle in greeting at someone I didn’t recognize. She had long blond hair and bright red lips.

“Friend of yours?” I asked. “You’ve got enough of them.”

He exhaled a quiet laugh. “I don’t sleep with locals. You know that.”

“A local? I don’t recognize her.”

Cameron glanced over his shoulder and then laughed. “You don’t? Whatever you do, don’t tell her that.”

My eyes narrowed on the blond again. “Should I recognize her?”

“Constance McKenzie,” Jax said.

I choked a little on my beer, giving her another once-over. “It is not.”

“You slept with her in high school, right?” Cameron asked. Then he widened his eyes. “Like, your first time. You borrowed Sheila’s fake candles and got in so much trouble when you left them in the bed of your truck and it rained, and all the batteries corroded.”

“Thanks for bringing that up,” I said between gritted teeth.

They both laughed.

Mortification had my skin crawling with heat. What an idiot I’d been. At seventeen, I was sick of not being able to say I’d had sex, so I slept with the first nice, attractive girl who flirted with me. It was awkward. And fast. And she moaned like I was a porn star.

News flash: at that time in my life, I was not anything of the sort.

I studied her in shock. “She looks completely different. She used to have red hair.”

The curves under her tight dress were also new, and some definitely looked like surgical enhancements.

Jax nodded. “She moved back to town about a year ago. Divorced with a couple of kids. I did some work for her at her place a couple of months ago. She’s nice, just not my type.”

Cameron rolled his eyes. “Your type is someone you’ll never see again.”

“Exactly.” Jax gave him a hard stare. “And don’t act like I sleep with anyone who looks my way. I haven’t had sex in at least six months, and you don’t see me moping around like this guy,” he said, jerking his head toward me.

“I’m not moping.”

Cameron and Jax traded a look.

“I’m not,” I said defensively. “I’m out, aren’t I?”

Jax eyed me over the rim of his beer. “How’s it going at home?”

I did what any sane man would do in my situation. I lied through my fucking teeth.

“Perfectly fine. Nothing’s changed at all.”

Even as the words came out, I felt the oily residue of deceit climb up my throat. I didn’t want anything to change. If feelings came in waves, all I had to do was wait this particular one out. The thought of ushering in too much change with Harlow filled me with a deep, crawling sense of dread, and the instinct to preserve what we had screamed to the surface.

What happened in the dark was a fluke that wouldn’t happen again, and when I saw her again in the daylight, all I’d see was my best friend.

“Glad to hear it.”

“Ian? Ian Wilder? Oh my gosh, is that really you?”

At the sound of Constance’s voice, Jax hid his laugh with a loud cough, and Cameron took a conspicuous sip of his drink. I grimaced briefly but managed a polite smile as I stood from my stool to greet her.

She was short, but because of the spiked heels on her feet, I didn’t have to bend over too far to reciprocate the tight hug.

“Constance, I almost didn’t recognize you. You look great.”

With a sunny, pleased smile, she eyed me from head to toe. Her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip, an action that drew attention to the lush curves of her mouth. Not the only lush curves she possessed, and quite desperately, I waited for a spark of interest.

“Speaking of looking great, I almost didn’t recognize you.” Then she laid her hand on my arm, long scarlet red nails filed to a sharp point, and took another step closer. Her perfume was strong, not unpleasant, but too flowery for my taste. I held my breath while she leaned up to speak directly into my ear. “Want to join me over there for a drink? I’d love to catch up.”

For a few moments, I considered it. Seriously, too. Based on the look in her eye—nothing short of awe as she stared up at me—and how she lingered over my arm, the blatant way she pressed her admittedly impressive cleavage against the side of my bicep, I could have Constance tonight if I wanted to.

I could have a couple of drinks with a woman from my past, allow for some harmless flirtation, and show her exactly how much better I’d gotten in bed since the scrawny seventeen-year-old she knew.

In the extended cab of my truck, I could break my self-imposed drought, parked in some dark, out-of-the-way spot, and see if the tangled mess in my head disappeared from having a pretty woman in my lap. Because undoubtedly, that was all I needed. To wipe the slate clean and come back home with a clear head and no more confusion.

But it was wrong. All of this. Her. Me.

The idea of it made my stomach feel a little queasy.

Carefully, I pulled her hand off my arm and took a step back. “Not tonight, Constance. I haven’t been out with my brother in a while, so I think I’ll just stay here.”

Her eyes flickered with disappointment, but she recovered quickly, her smile going bright and friendly again. “Sure, of course. You guys have a good night.” With a little wave of her fingers at Jax and Cameron, she tucked some of her hair behind her ear and gave me another interested look. “If you ever change your mind, let me know.”

There was a charged beat of silence as she strutted back to the bar, the curves under that dress catching more than one set of eyes. I had a feeling Constance wouldn’t be lonely for long, if that was what she was looking for.

“We leave you alone for one night, and you’re getting swarmed.”

At the sound of Ivy’s voice, I turned, my stomach dropping quickly at the sight of Ivy, Poppy, and Harlow next to our table. Harlow’s dark hair was braided off to the side of her face, and quickly, I studied her expression. Did she have tangles and knots in her head too?

It was just in my head, based on the looks of things. She didn’t look mad or upset or even annoyed at what she’d just witnessed. She walked over to me and smacked my arm like she would have any other day. “Holy shit, was that Constance McKenzie?” she whispered.

I sighed. “It appears so.”

With her eyes wide, she studied Constance at the bar. “Wow. She got hotter, didn’t she?”

The ease was back, and something in my chest unclenched. We’d be fine.

Ivy sniffed. “As long as she wasn’t hitting on my Wilder, I’ll admit she’s got a certain appeal.”

Harlow and Poppy laughed as Cameron wrapped an arm around Ivy’s waist and pulled her in next to his stool. “She was definitely hitting on the less nice brother, which means she has terrible taste.”

Ivy arched an eyebrow. “Good.”

“Hey,” I said. “I’m sitting right here.”

“Do you think you’re friendlier than me?” he asked condescendingly.

As Harlow laughed, I grimaced into my bottle of beer. Cameron gave Ivy a quick kiss, and I watched with interest as Harlow and Poppy immediately tugged stools up to our table. Jax, blank-faced, studied the new additions without a word.

“So,” I said slowly, “what happened to girls’ night?”

“We’re still having it,” Poppy said. “We’re just … having it here.” She waved a hand. “Once Ivy saw Cameron, it was all over.”

Jax snorted.

To my little sister’s credit, she ignored him completely. Which was a feat, if you considered the fact she’d been in love with him for years. Jax almost always ignored her, so we were used to that. It was probably the only reason Cameron allowed them to be in the same area, because Jax had never given her a single reason to believe there was a chance.

Ivy lifted her hand for a server. “Don’t feel like you can’t continue your conversation now that we’ve joined you. What were you talking about?”

Jax took a slow sip of his beer, then set it down, eyes unflinching. “We were talking about sex.”

Poppy cut him a wide-eyed look.

But if he meant to deter Ivy, she did nothing but smile. “Funny, that’s what we were going to talk about too.” Then she cut Cameron a quick, heated glance, and he grinned like the cat who ate the fucking canary. Then Ivy shifted those eyes to Harlow, and I found myself holding my breath. “Harlow, you first. What’s the best story you’ve got for us?”

Harlow froze. “I don’t have any good stories. The last time I got laid, there was a different president in office. The only person who sees me naked on a regular basis is my doctor.”

I hid my smile as Cameron and Ivy laughed.

Poppy slung an arm around Harlow’s shoulders. “Isn’t it fun being the new one at girls’ night?”

At the miserable expression on my friend’s face, I took pity on her.

“Poppy,” I said, “why don’t you tell us all about the last time you surprised Cameron and Ivy, if they’re so keen to talk about private things.”

Cameron’s cheeks flushed, and Ivy merely arched one eyebrow. “Go for it. Maybe Jax needs some tips.”

Underneath the table, Harlow’s knee brushed mine, and our eyes met and held.

She gave me a tiny smile. “Thank you,” she mouthed.

My hands tightened around the beer bottle as I let out a slow breath. All the knots and tangles were gone for the moment, and I could breathe easier because of it.

It was just a night out with friends, something we hadn’t done since she moved in. It was the perfect thing to reset whatever knocked loose in my head earlier.

I leaned back in my seat, listening to Poppy embarrass the hell out of Cameron, and it made me smile. Harlow tipped her head back and laughed, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Jax watching both of us with a speculative look in his eye.