Page 7 of The Promises We Were Never Meant To Keep

I don’t know what possesses me, but I ask, “Do you promise?”

His smile is slow and, I think a little hungry. He draws an X over his heart. The same way he did that first day I met him. “I promise.”

3

THE PROMISES WE WERE NEVER MEANT TO KEEP

AUGUST 2006 – 14 YEARS OLD

My legs are on fire and my lungs aren’t much better off. I’m not unaccustomed to a good workout, but this is something else. Before it leaves my lips, I hear it ring out into the space between us. The childish tune I’d outgrown years before. Or I thought I did.

It rings out plenty clear now, with that same practiced hint of whine.

“Are we there yet?”

Holt chuckles, a tease in his voice as he vows, “Just a bit longer.”

I groan but push on. It’s worth the muscles that jump with exertion under my skin when I see the patch of deep, clear blue that glistens beneath the burning sun, reflecting a vivid picture of the jagged mountain that stands sentry over this place.

I wheeze, “Wow.”

“Right.” He swings his leg over his bike, setting his kickstand as I do the same. “I’ve always loved it up here. One day, I’m going to buy a bike, and this is the first place I’m going to ride it.”

“A bike?” I glance at his. “You have one.”

I shuck my backpack and groan a little at the sweet feel of fresh air hitting the wet of my sweat-drenched shirt. I don’t know about Holt, but I plan on staying here a while. My legs need a break. So do my lungs.

“A street bike.”

I feel my nose scrunch. “A death-mobile?”

He shoots me a half-cocked grin. “You’ll be my backpack.”

I shake my head. “No way.”

He moves in closer, and my over-used heart kicks into high gear before it even had a chance to settle. His hands find my hips and he pulls me to him, just a little. My kicking heart lurches to a full-blown stop when he dips his head.

For a moment—a hopeful moment—I think he’s going to kiss me.

My first kiss.

“You know I’d never let anything happen to you, right?” His eyes search mine in a way they have never done before, and I feel somehow seen in a way I’ve never been before. Like he can see into the deeper parts of me. The hidden parts. The parts that haven’t yet developed into more.

“I—”

“You’d be safe with me. You are safe with me.”

“Okay.” Something is humming under my skin. Something wild and consuming and so, so—everything.

He’s still close, so close I can taste the scent of him. Earthy and dangerous and yet somehow safe.

I want him to kiss me.

His brown eyes drift to my lips. Fireflies explode in my belly, infecting my heart.

“Tell me you’ll be my backpack, Faye.”

“I’ll be your backpack, Holt.” I’m really not sure there’s anything this boy could ask me to do that I wouldn’t do. I want to be everything he wants; I realize.