No Promises

chapter thirty-two

"Any particular reason?"

"Just you," I say, turning my head to look at him. "You make me happy."

The corners of his mouth curl up as he brings the back of my palm up to his lips, kissing my knuckles. It's a gentle gesture that makes my heart twist. "You make me happy, too."

"Good."

He laughs. "We're going to need to blindfold you."

"Excuse me?" I turn my head, lifting my eyebrow in his direction. "Okay, if this is some kind of kink you're into, you need to fill—"

"Okay, no." He lifts our tangled hands, pointing his index finger at me. "It's not that."

"If you say so," I say, raising my eyebrow at the sight of our apartment building. "I thought we were going on a date."

"We are," he says, reaching for the garage fob. "It just happens to be in our apartment."

I narrow my eyes. "Is that so?"

"Is that okay?"

"I don't know yet," I say. "I'm going to have to see what's waiting for me."

He rolls his eyes at my playful tone, nudging my arm with his elbow as he untangles our fingers. A laugh falls from my lips as he parks next to my car, and I can't help but be excited about what is waiting for me upstairs. Greyson has been full of surprises, and I have no doubt that whatever it is will fill my stomach with butterflies.

"Do you really need to blindfold me?" I ask.

"No."

"You're going to anyway though, aren't you?"

"Maybe," he says as he climbs out. "Come on, gorgeous."

"Gorgeous, breathtaking." I note as I climb out, wandering around to his side. I tighten my grasp on the strap of my bag as I lean into the backend of the jeep. "Keep giving me all these compliments and you're going to give me a big head."

His lips curl up as he walks over, cupping my cheeks in his hand. "I don't remember calling you breathtaking."

"Hush," I say as he leads me towards the elevator, encouraging me to come inside with him. Slipping my hand into his, he pulls me into his side, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. He eventually moves his hand up to cover my eyes when we reach the apartment door.

"Ready?"

I nod my head to answer his question, leaning in when he reaches around me to unlock the apartment, his hand still covering my eyes. My heart speeds up at the sound of the door opening and the weight of Greyson's chest on my back as he guides me forward.

"Okay, keep your eyes closed."

"Okay," I say, squeezing my eyes tight when he moves his hand to shut the door.

It feels like an eternity passes as he moves around me, brushing my arm, and my lips curl up into a bright smile at the giddy feeling in the pit of my stomach. These last few days have been nothing short of amazing, and they just keep on getting better.

"You can open your eyes."

I slowly let my eyes open to the dimly light room, illuminated by the burning candles set up around the living room. The table's center cluttered with flowers, two plates set out, and my heart hurts looking at it as I step deeper into the apartment. It's simple and beautiful and perfect.

"Greyson," I say quietly as I turn my head to glance at him. "You did all of this for me?"

"Yeah, well, I'm hoping you'll keep me around." He steps towards me, resting his hands on my hips as he moves to wrap them around me. "Had to make it worth your while."

"I'd say it's been a success so far." I grin, leaning on my toes to kiss him. "Thank you."

He smiles before kissing me again. "You hungry?"

"Starving."

"Take a seat," he says as he leads me to the table and pulls a chair out for me. "I'll be right back," he tells me as he grabs the two plates off the table.

"Okay," I say, twisting in my seat to watch him as he wanders into the kitchen. I tuck a few strands of hair behind my ear as I cross one leg over the other, getting comfortable. "What exactly did you make me?"

"Something good, I promise," he says as he approaches the table with our plates. "And by something good, I mean something ordered because I can't cook."

"Liar." I nudge his leg as he places the plate of Chinese takeout in front of me, taking me back to my first night here. "Stevie always said you were the best cook out of the four of you."

"She's a liar."

"I don't know," I say with a hum. "Vee usually tells it like it is."

"Does she now?" he asks, about to take a seat when his phone starting ringing in his front pocket. He sighs weakly, setting his plate on the table in front of his seat before digging it out. "Damnit, it's the label. I have to take this."

"That's okay." I reach out, rubbing the small of his back. "Go ahead."

"Okay, I'll be right back," he says and walks across the room, taking the steps two at a time before stepping into his bedroom. I get up to my feet at the sound of his door closing and wander into the kitchen, opening the fridge door to grab two cans of grape soda off the top shelf. I hold them both in one hand before walking back towards the table, pausing when Greyson steps into the hallway between rooms.

"Everything okay?" I ask at the look on his face.

"Yeah, it's fine," he says, running his hand over the base of his neck. "There's just this artist that wants to record one of my songs and he's leaving Los Angeles tonight. He wants me to produce it for him, but..."

"But you have to go now."

"Yeah," he says, shaking his head. "I'll let them know to go on ahead without me."

"No," I argue, moving towards the table to set the drinks down. "You should go."

"But—"

"But our date can wait." I walk towards him, resting my hands on his sides. "I'm not about to let you pass up an opportunity to make your song perfect. It's your art, and I'm not about to stand in the way of that," I say. "I'll be here when you're finished."

"Thank you." He cups my face between his hands before leaning in, kissing me quickly. "I'm going to make this up to you, I promise."

"I'm holding you to that."

"You better," he says with a grin. "And I better find you in my bed when I get back."

"Oh, you will," I tell him.

"Promise?"

"Promise," I say, smiling weakly as he grabs his keys and heads for the door to leave. A small sigh falls from my lips as the door shuts behind him, leaving me alone in the darkness of our apartment. There is nothing in this world that I want more than to be successful and happy, so I can't fault Greyson, nor would I ever want him to give something up because of me.

Music is his art. It makes him happy, and he's good at it. I know that he'll make tonight up to me and asking him to stay would have been cruel. He has a huge opportunity in front of him and I never want to be the thing standing between him and his dreams.

Not ever, because I know he'll never stand in front of mine.