Chapter 2 #2
“Hawthorne’s got that old-fashioned New England charm,” I babbled. “You’ll like it here.”
His laugh lines flickered. “Will I? Is that a guarantee?”
“Absolutely. Meet me in a week to check in. I promise a full refund if you hate Hawthorne.”
He rewarded me with an actual chuckle. Excitement fizzed through me.
“So, Gavin,” I said lightly, just to say his name. “What brings you to our adorable college town? And don’t say it’s the Fall Leaf Festival next weekend, or the Victorian haunted houses off Astor Street, or even the apple cider donuts. We get those excuses all the time.”
His smile vanished. “I needed a change.”
Something painful had sent him here. I’d do anything to bring back that glowing smile.
“I get it. Fellow New Yorker here. I love the city to death, but I got the hell out for college.” Impulsively, I unclasped my watch and held it out.
“See the quote on the back? What’s past is prologue.
It means whatever happened in your life before this moment is behind you.
And this—” I waved my hand toward the stage.
“This is your main act now. Your time to shine.”
Gavin studied the engraving on the watch longer than necessary.
“Shakespeare,” he said at last. “The Tempest.”
I grinned. “You get an A-plus.”
To my surprise, he smirked. “Spoken by a man who’s convincing his friend to murder his father and become king.”
“You know that?”
“I’ve designed lights for The Tempest twice.”
“Okay, but the quote doesn’t have to be negative. That’s the beauty of Shakespeare.”
Gavin placed the watch carefully in my palm. “That his words can mean whatever you want?”
“That they’re open to interpretation! ‘Whereof what’s past is prologue; what to come, in yours and my discharge.’ It’s saying that the future is in your hands.”
Actually, I’d just said the future was in our hands.
Gavin’s amber eyes widened, right as Rachel chose that moment to wedge herself between us. A petite ball of energy, she managed to be everywhere at once, but occupying the limited space between Gavin and me was an accomplishment even for her.
“So great to see you two chatting!” She patted Gavin’s shoulder. “I swear, half the people here are displaced New Yorkers.”
Corey strolled over, his arm still draped around Eden. “Must be nice. Daddy pay for everything you touch, too, Gavin?” He pointed at me. “This one was spanked with a silver spoon.“
Eden gave Corey a mock slap upside the head. “Jerk! Don’t give Jorie a hard time.”
I forced a laugh. Corey resented that I came from money, while he’d worn his older brothers’ hand-me-downs and bussed tables in high school. Not that we ever discussed our backgrounds. But I’d heard things.
Rachel tugged Gavin’s arm. “Gavin, have you met Theo Lombard yet?” She pointed to Dr. Lombard nearby — a bespectacled, bearded professor in his sixties, famous for his unironic pipe collection. “You two would love each other. Come chat.”
Her tone left no room for argument. She was treating him like a fucking kid, though he was a foot taller than her and covered in tattoos. Rachel bossed everyone around, but seeing her do it to Gavin made me unreasonably annoyed.
Gavin nodded at Rachel. “Happy to, in a minute. I’m talking with Jordana right now.”
My chest expanded — a warm, fragile balloon. Corey looked irritated, while Eden’s eyes danced with interest.
“Well!” Rachel said huffily. “I wouldn’t keep Theo waiting long, if I were you. We’re leaving for the Mug and Trencher soon where he’ll drink us all under the table.”
She swept away.
“Come on, Corey!” Eden chirped, lifting Corey’s arm and making him twirl her around. “Let’s go mingle.”
She gave me a little wink, clearly intending to leave me alone with Gavin. Eden had the best of intentions, as always. Corey leaned in, whispering to her as they walked away.
Gavin glanced at them, then lowered his voice.
“Look, it’s none of my business, but the way that guy treated you outside…seemed extreme. Are you okay?”
Startled, I laughed nervously and pulled my cheetah coat around me, though the dock was hot with so many people crowded together.
“We just met. Why would I tell you if I’m okay?”
“Fair enough.”
As he stepped back, a tattoo caught my eye: a spare clock face on his wiry, muscled forearm. What’s past is prologue.
“Can I tell you a secret?” I blurted.
He leaned down so I could whisper in his ear.
His jaw was sharp, bristling with a few days’ scruff. With his dark, wavy hair so close, I caught the scent of forest-fresh pine and a smoky aroma like burning leaves.
“It’s sweet of you to care,” I murmured. “You’re a gentleman, Gavin. A really good guy. But don’t worry about me. You know why? Because I…like…pain.”
He stiffened.
“I enjoy being treated like dirt. I like to be used — hard. If a man was sweet with me, and gentle, I wouldn’t want anything to do with him. Does that shock you, Gavin?” I couldn’t stop saying his name. “Do you think that’s wrong?”
He straightened, frowning. I’d hoped — just maybe — he’d understand. Which made no sense, given that we really had just met. But for some crazy reason, call it intuition, I thought he might accept the kinks and urges I didn’t discuss with anyone. Definitely not Corey, though we acted them out.
His gaze traveled over me, liquid gold.
“Since you asked? There’s nothing wrong with that, as long as you enjoy it. And as long as the person you’re entrusting with the very particular task of treating you like dirt, using you so carelessly, actually cares about you. Did you enjoy yourself, Jordana? Did he care?”
My breath came faster. “I don’t want someone who cares.”
Light sparkled on his stubbled jaw. “You don’t believe that.”
A slight smile played on Gavin’s lips, clicking a truth into place: He likes to argue.
“Are you calling me a liar?” I demanded.
“You’re an actress—”
“Acting isn’t lies!”
“But actors love attention. And maybe you say things like that because they’re shocking, to get attention, when it takes a lot more than that to shock me.”
I clutched my coat closed.
“Who do you think you are?” I hissed. “Is this your thing? You get off on playing the savior, telling women who they are and what they want?”
Gavin blinked, his eyelashes thick and dark — the one pretty note on his sharp-planed face.
“Forgive me. I overstepped.” Giving me an ironic smile, he walked away to join Rachel and Dr. Lombard.
No. I wanted to pull him back by the hood of his black sweatshirt, run my hands down his tight runner’s build, tackle him on the dock. I was losing my mind. I’d hooked up with plenty of strangers, but Gavin was even less safe than a random man in a bar.
He’d seen too deep into me.
“It’s Mug and Trencher time!” someone yelled.
The cast and crew had demolished Gretchen’s snacks. Brian pushed around a broom while everyone gathered up the trash.
As we exited, I touched Eden’s arm. “Go on without me. I’ll meet you there. I need a minute.”
“Is everything okay?”
“More or less.” In this moment, I couldn’t lie outright to Eden, who was always honest, but I wasn’t ready to talk.
“Take your time. I’ll save you a seat.”
I melted into the shadows as everyone traipsed out of the theater, mock-staggering with weariness.