The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1) by Martin R.C

Author:Martin, R.C. [Martin, R.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-09-27T07:00:00+00:00

I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe! Literally, every time I try and breathe in, all I can swallow is a cap full of air and that’s not nearly enough. While I know if I just took a second to collect myself, I’d probably be alright, my brain is too busy trying to define the emotion that’s currently invading my chest and clogging my airway.

As I watch them talk to one another, his gaze focused intently on her, I replay the scene I just walked in on. Beckham and Logan. Together. Alone. Her fingers grazing his face. His face! A small part of me—the smallest—is begging me to think logically, but I can’t. She had her fingers on his face. That speaks of intimacy. What is more personal than a person’s face? Aside from the obvious…

I try and shake the thought away, but I can’t take my eyes off of them.

Intimacy? Come on, Addison—they don’t have intimacy.

Then what was that? Have you ever seen him that way with someone else?

I ball my fingers into my palms and force myself to find a rational thought. Any rational thought. Like, how he said he didn’t want to see other people. He said that, right? He had been adamant about it, right?

Then, just as suddenly as the thought comes, it goes at the sound of their laughter.

Beckham and Logan. Laughing. Together.

Jealousy.

That’s what it is. That’s the monster that’s squeezing my lungs. I’ve felt some semblance of jealousy before. Who hasn’t? But never like this. Never. This is almost unrecognizable as jealousy. It seems bigger. More aggressive. More painful.

What is he doing here with her?

“It’s not what it looks like.” I register his words only after he gives my shoulder a friendly squeeze. Roman.

“You don’t know that,” I mutter, my eyes still glued on them. How is it possible that he doesn’t feel me in the room? When I walked in, I spotted him in less than two seconds! How has he not noticed me?

“Addie, look at me,” coaxes Roman.

“I can’t.” I can feel the aggression dissipating as panic and longing set in. Why does she get to be at that table with him? Laughing and touching him? Why her and not me?

“Addie, it’s not what it looks like.”

“You don’t know that,” I bite, shrugging away his hand.

“Yes, I do,” he mutters, taking my chin between his fingers and jerking my face so that I have no choice but to look at him. “I know Logan and it’s not what it looks like.”

He knows Logan.

Daphne knows Logan. Beckham knows Logan—even Avery knows enough about Logan to know that she doesn’t like her. I don’t know Logan. Don’t know her. Don’t trust her. Yet—she’s sitting across the room with the man that I love, capturing his attention like she’s the only person on the planet.

Can I blame him? She’s gorgeous and effortlessly graceful. Even the sound of her laugh sounds like music. How am I supposed to compete with that?

“Addie, do you hear me? It’s not what it looks like.

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