Page 32 of The Pact

“You’re off today. What happened? If Cole did something…” Her threat trails off, but I know all the things Cassie is capable of. Her mind is calculating. She has a few acts of petty revenge under her belt. She’s subtle with it too, although I hope I’ll never need to use her skills.

I shake my head. “No, Cole is…” I want to say perfect because that is how I feel, however, it’s so hard for me to reconcile giving him that much power over me. Cassie nods in understanding. “I was at the store today and these women were gossiping about me. And they clearly wanted me to hear. It was fucking rude.”

“What were they saying?” Cassie doesn’t seem surprised, her face nearly flat aside from the slight pull of her dark brows.

I glance back to see the realtor with her back to us, still on the phone. “They were saying how it’s strange for four guys to be living together. They were wondering what was so special about me that Cole would even show interest.” Saying it out loud makes me feel like I’m making a mountain out of a molehill. But it isn’t just that or just them.

The other women talking about my business hurt the worst. Although, I don’t feel like I can tell Cassie this. I don’t want her to worry that this will affect our plans.

“You’re going to have to get used to those kinds of comments.” Cassie gives me a strained smile, not one for comforting gestures like hugs. “People around here are bored. They’re looking for any distraction from their unhappy, lonely lives. Gossip is the only thing that makes them feel an ounce of importance around other miserable people.”

She’s right, yet their comments weigh heavily on me. “Is it strange that they live together?”

Cassie levels a gaze at me. “A bunch of guys in their thirties still living as roommates? Absolutely. But also… four hot guys living in a huge house where you’re the center of attention is kind of a dream come true.” She smirks playfully. I know she’s teasing. Still, a rush of heat courses through me at her words.

I’m embarrassed as soon as I feel it, trying to shove it away.

“I’m not the center of attention,” I correct her. “I’m the center of Cole’s attention.”

She eyes me. “Whatever you say.”

On the car ride back to the studio, we weigh the pros and cons of the two properties we need to decide between. There’s a clear winner. The one that’s closer to the studio has a recently renovated barn and a small but lovely home. We talk about the weddings we can host there and setting up a glass greenhouse for photography.

The possibilities feel endless.

We park and continue our excited chatter as we walk to the studio. Then, a breeze makes a flutter of white catch my eye. Wedged between the crease of the double doors to the studio is a piece of paper. I know before I take it between my fingers that it’s meant for me.

My stomach turns to lead.

“What is it?” Cassie doesn’t connect the dots like I do—like I have been for a few days.

My fingers shake as I unfold the note. Thea, I really want to talk about things. I’m in town. Call me. -G. The words turn my veins to ice and I look around, wondering if I’ll catch him watching us.

Cassie takes the note from my hands and reads the messy writing. “Gavin.” She doesn’t need to ask. It’s signed G, there’s no one else it could be. She rolls her eyes and crumbles the paper easily.

It’s easy for her to dismiss him—Cassie doesn’t know about the last time I saw Gavin.

No one does.

It’s that memory that has me shaking now. She and my parents believe that the last time I saw him was the day I moved out after he left to go out with friends. Blindsiding him.

I saw him once more. My fingers find my arm, rubbing it protectively.

The truth is, he showed up at my parent’s house one night, intercepting me as soon as I got home from work, when they weren’t there—like he’d been waiting for hours. Planning it.

“Thea, are you okay?” Cassie’s eyes search mine as I stare off somewhere behind us.

“I-I don’t know.”

Cassie unlocks the studio and ushers me inside. There’s a reason I didn’t tell her, or anyone else for that matter. I wanted to be done with him, also; I was afraid. I hoped he would forget about me and move on.

Nearly a year later, I thought I was in the clear.

Then the note in my truck appeared. I told myself I was being paranoid, although deep down, I knew. It was Gavin. Pushing his way back into my life. What scares me the most is that he’s held on this long and I’m not sure if it’s some sort of twisted version of love fueling this fixation. Or if it resembles something closer to hate.

12

THEA

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