I found her hiding in her own eyes— the pretty little thing in black Chucks. Even then I knew… Knew that she would light my world. Knew that she would steal my heart. In just one glance, I knew I’d let her have it all. All she had to do was take it. All she had to do was chase her… Chase the girl I saw in those gorgeous brown eyes.
The promises you keep reveal who you are and define who you want to be…
With senior year of college just a breath away, Beckham and Grayson, brothers by fate, battle against their fears and surrender to their hearts’ bidding—consequences be damned; while Addison and Avery, sisters by blood, learn that in romance, all you need is love—except for when life is way more complicated than that.
Written in each of their perspectives, The Promises We Keep tells the story of a couple joined together and another split apart. As they make plans in preparation for life after college in the “real world,” they are each challenged with the reality that love can conquer all; but only if they choose to let it, which is never as easy as it sounds.
She slays me.
When she opens the door, the effect she has on me is comparable to being sacked on the football field—no joke. Every time I see her, whether the time lapse is a day, a week, or five minutes, it’s the same. She’s just so freaking beautiful.
She’s identical to my best friend’s girl. They’ve got some crazy attractive combination of ethnicities happening, making them both unique and worthy of a double take. I think their dad is a mix between African American and some sort of French Canadian background, while their mom is of Pacific Islander decent. Avery always says that their mother is to thank for her long black hair. I do her one better and thank God for their mother, their grandmother and their grandfather, too.
For a while, I couldn’t tell the difference between Avery and Addison. I’d always found them attractive, but because I couldn’t tell them apart, I never thought to pursue anything, from fear that I’d end up hitting on Beck’s girl. Then I got to know them—and while they are a lot alike, they are also incredibly different. Not that my ability to tell them apart mattered at that point. By the time I realized that I liked her as more than a friend, it was quite clear that she deserves far better than the likes of me…
But that doesn’t mean that I can’t look.
She’s more than a foot shorter than me; and even though I know she’s got her own little bit of strength, evident in her toned muscles gained from years of running and carrying that cello of hers, she’s so petite and delicate. Sometimes I wonder how her personality fits inside of her small frame. She’s incredibly talented, with a focus and determination that seems to be a reflection of my own. She can also be really shy, which I find to be just downright adorable. Then she’ll get really passionate about something and you can’t shut her up. But she’s always kind and genuine.
When she looks up at me with those big brown eyes, like she is now, and smiles at me with her full heart-shaped lips, she owns me. She doesn’t know it—but she does. What I want to do is scoop her up into my arms and tell her how pretty I think she is, only I won’t. Instead I simple say, “Good Morning.”
About The Author
R.C. Martin is a born and bred Coloradan. While she now resides in Virginia, her home will always be in the land of the Rocky Mountains, where she’s left a piece of her heart and where her characters come to life. As a woman in love with love and filled with compassion for young women on a journey to find themselves in today’s society, she aspires to inspire her readers to do more than settle. She hopes that her writing will remind, or perhaps teach women that they are valuable and worthy of the best kind of love—the kind that is gentle, patient, faithful, passionate, all consuming, never ending, and leaves them breathless.