The Worst Kind of Promise (Riverside Reapers #2)

by Celeste Briars

I called Kit Langley.

Star left defenseman for the NHL’s Riverside Reapers. One of my brother’s best friends. The guy I’m secretly in love with—the guy who looks at me like I’m his kid sister.

“What happened?” he asks.

“Faye, breathe. You’re okay. I’ve got you,” Kit says, the

“Faye, who hurt you?” “He’s…I…”

“My date. H-he—I said no…” I choke, the sweat on my brow now covering every bare inch of skin. Kit’s eyes heat with understanding, and every muscle in his upper body ripples with iron-hot rage. The cords in his neck are taut, the veins in his forearms

“I’m going to kill that son of a bitch.”

“Please, Kit. I can’t bring Hayes into this. You know how reckless he can be. If he finds out, he’ll lose it.”

“Look, Faye, when you called me…I’ve never been so afraid in my entire life. I was worried something bad had happened to you, and I was right. I need to know I’m keeping you safe, otherwise I’m going to lose my

I’ll get on my knees and beg this man if I have to. “Please, Kit. He never has to find out about this. He’ll kill that guy on some crazy vengeance trip.” “You’re lucky I’m not going to kill that guy,” Kit growls.

“Because we’re friends.” Friends? I’ve never hated one word so much in my entire life.

Friends. Did I seriously just say that? Why did I say that? Why couldn’t I just tell her the truth?

She gives me a stunted shake of her head, her long, caramel hair swaying with the movement. “It’s okay. We can share the bed,” she says, though the tremor in her voice betrays her.

“Come back with me to California. Just for the summer,” I say.

“I’m sorry if I’m coming on too strong. You’re not a problem. I just…I care about you. A lot more than I care about most people. I want to be here for you. I want to offer you support when you need it, even if you’re adamant about pushing me away.”

“Just because you’re used to taking care of yourself doesn’t mean you should be. Accepting help isn’t a sign of weakness; it doesn’t diminish your strength or resilience. You’re stronger if you acknowledge you need help,” Kit coos softly, making my heart flare brightly in

“I could, and I do. Nothing has to change. We don’t have to let this thing between us uproot the friendship we’ve already built.”

“I don’t do casual, Kit. I’m not some conquest you can just toss aside when you get bored. I’m not interested in fucking for the sake of fucking. I want to mean something to someone.” Faye means more to me than she’ll ever know.

It dawns on me that Faye will never believe a word I say unless I prove it to her. So I do just that. “Can I kiss you?” “Can you…what?” “I want to kiss you, Faye.”

It kills me that she seems so surprised, like she couldn’t understand why I’d want to spend every second of my time with her. I’m obsessed with this girl. I’d give her anything she wanted. If Faye asked me to make her a dining table from scratch, I’d make her that goddamn

table, even with my one woodshop class worth of experience.

“You’re spending the summer with me, Faye. Eating breakfast with me is a requirement.”

I intimidate him? Is he on crack? Kit—six foot five, who has never cried at a Disney movie in his life and is covered head to toe in tattoos—is intimidated by me, Faye, five foot five, who cries whenever she sees roadkill and has never done anything permanent to her body? The math doesn’t add up.

Kit roughs his hair with his hand, the faintest groan catching in his throat. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous when you blush,” he says.

In the past forty-eight hours, I’ve confessed my feelings, kissed the woman of my dreams, and somehow lost her. That has to be a fucking record.

“How did you know I liked Junior Mints?” I ask, accepting the candy from him with a grateful smile. He deposits the rest of the snacks—except for a Kit Kat—in the back of the car, among my scattered luggage. “You were eating them at Hayes’ initiation party,” he explains, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That was over four years ago.”

“I was just talking about how thrilling reading can actually be. It’s relaxing but stimulating. You’re in this other little world, experiencing it for the very first time. You don’t have to worry about your shitty desk job or the errands you have to run tomorrow. You can just…escape.”

“Please, Princess. Please let me make things right. I can’t stand what I’ve done to you. Fuck, I deserve to wallow in my own self-hatred, but you shouldn’t have

“I don’t care how long it takes. Make me work for it. I played hockey for eleven years before making it to the NHL. I’m willing to wait even longer for you, because you’re a far better prize than going pro. You can hate me all you want, but what I won’t have is you questioning how amazing you are just because I fucked up.” “I—”

“But…thank you. Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me before.” “I’d do anything for you, Princess.”

Are you…reading one of my books right now? KIT: It was on the bathroom counter. FAYE: That’s private property. KIT: Your name isn’t on it. FAYE: That’s just common decency, ass. KIT: You didn’t answer my question. FAYE: I’m not going to tell you. KIT: Oh, wait. Question answered. *smirking emoji* FAYE: Kit… KIT: The little tabs you put in here are really helpful.

Face it, Princess. Even though you don’t need me, I’ll always be your knight in shining armor. FAYE: Is that why you call me that? Because you think I’m a princess? KIT: Wasn’t it obvious? FAYE: I thought it was more along the lines of ‘She’s a damsel and in distress. Help her before she burns the city down.’ KIT: God, no. Never. I call you that because you deserve to be treated like one. FAYE: I didn’t realize you could be so sweet. KIT: Don’t get used to it. FAYE: C’mon. You’re a big softie. Admit it. KIT: Fine. Only for you.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he says, the peak of his knuckles ghosting over my cheekbone. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I just…I could spend forever staring at you, and it wouldn’t be long enough.”

“I’ve spent countless hours mapping your body, finding the places where it melds to mine, and I’ve spent even more trying to figure out how I got so lucky to feel you in my arms. I want that for the rest of my life. I want you for the rest of my life.”

“Kit, did you annotate a book for me?” I ask. The corners of his lips tick up into a loving grin. “I’d annotate an entire library for you if it meant that I got to see you smile.”