Page 22 of The Pact

I’m sure I won’t hear from her again until she’s on my doorstep. I gather my things and quietly head upstairs, careful not to disturb anyone who might still be sleeping.

The house is silent and I’m thankful. Last night was a lot.

There wasn’t much time to take in all the details of their home. My first stop is the windowed wall of the living room. Light pours in, illuminating every inch of the massive open space. The view is calling me, but first coffee.

It feels strange rifling through their cabinets for what I need, although I don’t think they’ll mind too much. Well, maybe Damian will. The smell of the hot liquid filling my cup invigorates me. I stir in the creamer and sugar, taking the warm mug into my hands as I make my way to the other room.

Cole was right. The beauty of what I’m seeing is indescribable. The river below flows gently with rocks jutting out of the surface sporadically, making white foam against the edges. Trees border the water as far as I can see.

My eyes find the dock that Cole mentioned and the steep path of stairs leading down to it. In the opposite direction, there’s nothing but nature for miles—no signs of any other houses.

A flash of movement catches my attention from a window to my right. Through it I see a pool. The early morning light bounces off the surface. This place is feeling less and less like a home and more like a resort.

I’m pretty sure that pools are uncommon in this area. It’s probably expensive to put in because of the terrain and it makes little sense when you can only use it four, maybe five, months out of the year.

Apparently, those factors are inconsequential to them.

Last night, Cole mentioned Damian wanting to make this their dream home. I’d say mission accomplished.

“Who are you?” A sharp voice snaps.

I turn to see a towering man near the fireplace. His messy brown hair hangs over his forehead, almost grazing the dark brows above scrutinizing eyes. This must be the final brother—Wesley.

I swallow the sip of coffee in my mouth and smile. “Hi, I’m Thea, Cole’s…” I stop, not knowing how to address myself.

Even if I wanted to finish, I’m stopped when he crosses his deeply tanned arms—seemingly unimpressed by my association with Cole. His ring catches my eye, confirming that he's their brother. “Sorry, I thought he would have told you I’d be here. I didn’t mean to surprise you,” I explain. His face remains hardened.

He’s as closed off as Damian, yet there’s a clear difference between the two. Damian’s coldness comes off as calculating with an undercurrent of arrogance. Although I’ve just met Wesley, his frigidness appears more protective, like he’s wearing it as a shield.

This kind I understand well.

Wesley stands there silently, staring me down. I try to hold his gaze, however, it’s difficult. The light coming from the windows hits his eyes and I can see that they are a deep brown with flecks of a lighter shade that are probably only visible in the sun. They’re unbearably beautiful.

His face is clean shaven and shows off the sharp angles of his jaw. His nose is prominent, while the curves of his lips have softer edges that form the slightest Cupid’s bow shape. I look over his muscled body. He’s by far the largest of all the brothers.

The black sleeveless undershirt he’s wearing gives me a good view of the tattoos that cover both arms. Images of nature—mountains and trees cover one arm. The other is filled with what appears to be a map. His body shifts under my stare. I realize I’m making him uncomfortable.

I glance at the stairs, hoping that Cole will appear right when I need him to, like he did last night. He doesn’t. I look back at Wesley, trying to think of something to say since he’s dead set on silence.

“I’ll finish my coffee and leave.” Thankfully, my words seem to relax him a little as his arms fall to his sides.

“Don’t get any ideas about taking anything on your way out.” His tone is accusatory and makes my face twist in confusion. Why would I take anything?

I’m about to defend myself when the sound of footsteps has both of us turning our heads simultaneously. Sutton appears smiling, but it vanishes when he senses the tension in the room. “Oh shit. Tell me you didn’t put your foot in your mouth, Wes.” Sutton walks over to his brother and claps a hand on his back.

He has to be half a head taller than Sutton and easily twice his width.

“I told her to keep her sticky fingers to herself. Apparently, that’s something that needs to be announced around here.” He scowls at me. Jesus, am I using his favorite mug or something?

“Woah, woah. I can vouch for her. We’ve known each other for years. Thea wouldn’t do anything like that.” My eyebrow lifts in challenge. See.

Wesley isn’t fazed by his brother’s history with me. The guy must have some major trust issues.

Sutton joins me as Wesley heads into the kitchen. “Don’t mind him. The last chick that Cole brought home stole some money from his wallet and he’s still bitter about it.” His arm wraps around my shoulder. He pulls me in close.

I sink into his embrace, like my body’s made for it. Breathing him in, I can’t help but remember two years worth of memories. Two years of wishing he’d make a move. So many times I’d hoped he’d push me up against a wall and fuck me. Or wake me sweetly with kisses after I’d fallen asleep on him. Anything. I would’ve taken anything from him.

Sutton and I have always had this type of friendship. It wasn’t uncommon for us to hold hands, hug randomly, or even pass out cuddling in college. There’s something that made me gravitate towards him and him to me. It feels easy to fall back into, but it also feels dangerous. I worry it might make Cole uncomfortable.

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