No Promises

chapter eleven

"ARE YOU GOING to be okay?" Isla asks when we get back to Stevie and Felix's, Greyson already out front with our bags to head back to Los Angeles. This time without Isla, who got a call from her on-again, off-again boyfriend, who just so happens to be in San Francisco heading back to Los Angeles and after a tattoo appointment of arguing that it was better left off, she agreed to ride back with him instead of us. "I could—"

"It'll be fine, Isla," I tell her. "Are you going to be okay?"

She nods. "It's just Miles, Robby."

"Yes, and you said you were finally letting go of him?" I ask. "Isla, I know you love him, and I get it, but all you ever do is hurt each other."

"I just... he wants to talk, and after everything, I think I owe him that."

"Okay, well, text me when you get back to Los Angeles, okay?"

"I will," she says, wrapping her arms around me. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"I want some of that!" Stevie runs over and wraps her arms around us, moving between us with a laugh. "We have to promise to see each other as often as possible, okay? No drifting allowed."

"Promise," I say as we part. "Happy birthday, Vee."

She grins. "Thank you."

"You are welcome," I tell her. "Let us know how telling the parents goes."

She shudders at the thought. "Don't remind me."

"It'll be fine," Isla says. "They love Felix."

"That's true," she says and holds her hand out for Felix, who until this point was talking to Greyson. "Text me when you both get home, okay?"

"We will," I say at the same time as Isla.

"Shall we?" Greyson turns his attention to me, grabbing the handle to the passenger door to open it for me. I answer with a nod and climb into the passenger seat, waiting for him to close the door to take a deep breath and try to ignore the flutter in my stomach. "So... did it hurt?"

"Like a bitch," I tell him, his question easing the tension in my chest when he climbs into the driver's seat.

"Where'd you decide to get it?"

I reach for the hem of my cropped brown tank top, and slide my short fuzzy cardigan to the side, lifting it up for him to see the clear bandaging and the fresh ink on my skin. He leans over the console, surprising me when he rests his hand over mine to move it just enough to get a better view. I want to say that I'm fine, but being touched by him, even in the most innocence sense, is like starting a wildfire in my chest.

"It looks really good," he says as he moves back in his seat and starts the engine. "I like the placement."

"Yeah, it looks good there." I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat as I move my clothes back into place. "How was your morning? What'd you and Felix get up to?"

"We went and checked out the Berkeley campus."

"Oh, yeah? How was that?"

"Interesting," he says. "How did Isla and Stevie handle the tattoo?"

"Stevie nearly broke my hand," I say. "Isla handled it like a champ."

"And you?"

"Oh, I'm a total pro."

"You hated it, didn't you?"

Pressing my lips together, I lean back in my seat and bring my foot up onto the seat. "Maybe," I tell him, biting back a smile.