The Pact

22

SUTTON

Me: Come out with me tonight, Thea.

Our Girl: Is that a question or an order?

Cole: I’d like to know as well.

Me: You’re always free to do as you wish, but if you prefer an order, I can give you one.

Damian: Watch it, Sutton…

Wesley: Yeah, Damian’s the only one who’s allowed to give orders around here.

Our Girl: Okay, enough…yes, I’ll go out with you tonight.

Me: Good, be ready by eight. Wear jeans and sneakers.

Damian: I don’t think she’s ready for all that…

Our Girl: All what?

Our Girl: All what???

None of us reply to her in the group chat. She’ll find out tonight what I have in store for her as long as she comes in what I’ve told her to wear. Her safety is my top priority. It’s why I made the hour trip to pick up some supplies for our date.

I run my hand over the matte black Shoei Neotec helmet—it matches mine. Under it is the black Dainese jacket. I want her fully covered, completely protected, when I take her for a ride tonight. She’s going to look badass in her gear. Her gear, the words echo in my head.

I never thought this day would come.

Thea slipped through my fingers all those years ago and here I am now, getting everything ready to take her on my motorcycle—my happy place aside from my bookstore. I’ve never let a woman ride with me before. I can’t wait to give that first to her.

I glance at my watch. Four hours to go. It feels too far away. I’ve already washed my bike, showered, and packed a bag. Cole is going to pick her up after he gets off work. Laying on my bed, I stare up at the ceiling, practically counting the minutes until eight.

My parents bought me my first bike fifteen years ago when I was a senior in highschool. Probably not the brightest idea. I was eighteen and had something to prove back then. But they’ve always been supportive of anything I’ve wanted to pursue.

The desire to shed my nerdy persona was no different. I wish it was simply a case of feeling self-conscious. It wasn’t. The bullying was brutal. They witnessed the effects of it daily and were by my side when I hit my lowest point—when living didn’t seem worth the trouble.

Thankfully, the support from my parents and eventually Wesley’s threats to my bullies helped pull me out of that dark place. While the overt harassment stopped, I was never fully accepted by anyone outside of Damian, Cole, and Wes. That hurt a lot.

I watched as Damian bulked up and Wes, who was already huge, started getting tattoos. There was a shift in how people viewed them. I wanted that too.

Back then, I was far too indecisive to settle on a tattoo. However, a bike I could get on board with. And it worked. That first morning, I pulled up on my motorcycle wearing all black, feeling like a new person. Everyone’s eyes turned to me in the parking lot as they waited to see who was underneath the helmet. I’ll admit, there was a certain smug satisfaction when I took it off and a few of the girls who’d always overlooked me came over to talk.

At first, riding was a way to earn the respect of my peers. It quickly became much more than that. Riding brings me peace. It’s only me, my bike, and the road—everything else falls away. I hope Thea feels the same.

Thinking of my parents is a reminder that I need to call them. It’s been a few days and I want to catch up. I also need to thank my mom for the care package she dropped off. I’ve insisted that I don’t need it, but she doesn’t listen. I’m thirty-three and don’t need my mom bringing me baskets with body wash and my favorite snacks. Caring for me in these little ways brings her joy and I can’t say that I don’t look forward to them every month. Maybe I’ll just say thank you when I call instead of asking her not to do it. First, a nap though. I know it’ll likely be a long night.

“You ready for this?” Thea nods, the helmet engulfing her head. I have her visor pushed up. Her blue eyes are wide in nervousness, yet there’s also a bit of sparkle there. The one she gets when she’s excited.

I can tell Cole is worried. He’s standing a few feet away with his arms crossed, his lips are pressed together tightly. “I’m serious, Sutton. Nothing happens to her. She comes home in one piece.” If it was Damian saying this, I’d probably tell him to fuck off. Cole’s sensitive. And if the roles were reversed, I’d be saying the same thing to him.

“I’ll protect her at all costs. You have my word.” Cole’s tension seems to ease at my promise. It’s true, nothing will happen to Thea on my watch. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something did.

Turning back to her, I look her up and down. Fuck, she’s hot. She’s wearing a pair of tight, dark blue jeans and black sneakers. I zip up her black riding jacket. It’s a perfect fit.

“Backpack for my backpack.” I hand her the black bag to slip over her shoulders.

“Huh?”

I laugh. “You’re my backpack because you’re hanging onto me.” I can tell she’s smiling as her eyes crinkle.

I throw my leg over my black MV Agusta F4 and push back the kickstand. Cocking my head, I signal for her to join me. Cole stares us down. “Sutton,” he calls out. “Watch it tonight.” I know exactly what he means.

Cole wants to make sure I know not to get carried away on our date. I nod once. Easier said than done. Keeping my hands to myself is going to be difficult—I can admit that wholeheartedly. It took all of my restraint not to deepen that kiss in the kitchen last night.

The rules are important, although they aren’t always clear cut. We have to feel out what works for us. That’s why I studied Cole’s reaction to me kissing Thea in front of him. I didn’t sense any jealousy from him, which has been a worry of mine. As much as we pride ourselves on not competing with one another, we’re human and can’t rule it out.

Cole is keeping tight lipped about his and Thea’s intimacy, but he would have told us if they slept together. So for now, kissing is on the table—everything else is off.

Turning the ignition key, I start up my bike. It roars to life beneath us. Thea’s arms instinctively wrap around my waist and her thighs squeeze against me. She’ll relax soon enough. I rev the engine a couple of times and she hugs me closer, bumping her helmet into the back of mine. I chuckle. This is going to be fun.

I take off down the driveway, glancing back at Cole once. He hasn’t moved. I’ll bring her back in one piece, brother.

It doesn’t take Thea long to adjust. I ran through all the things she needed to know for our ride. If I tap her leg, she needs to hold on tight. Tap my helmet if she sees a cop. No screaming. Lean with me. Feet on footrests at all times. No wiggling around and try not to bump helmets. I have to admit, she’s doing pretty good so far. Our helmets have only bumped a few times.

We come to a stoplight as we cut through Main Street. I sit up, waiting for the light to turn.

Reaching back, I run my hand up her leg, squeezing her thigh. Her legs tighten around me as her hands travel lower on my torso. Fuck, she must be turned on. As her hands hit the top of my pants, the light turns green. I’m disappointed, yet also relieved.

It’s almost dark when I pull into the parking lot of the scenic overlook. There’s just enough daylight to gaze out over the mountains. I help Thea take off her helmet and walk her over to the railing.

“How was that for you?” I’m hoping she says she liked it because I want to have her ride with me as much as possible.

She tears her gaze away from the view and smiles. “It was… incredible. I’m sore, but it’s worth it.” I beam with pride. She’s amazing.

“It wasn’t scary? I know we went a little faster than you might have expected.” I watch her blue eyes shift away and pink creep into her cheeks. I hook my fingers under her chin and bring her attention back to me. “Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah. It was a little scary at times, but it was also…” Thea’s never been one to not be able to find the words with me. I search her face. “I don’t know. It felt good at the same time.”

I lick my lips—I think I understand what she’s saying. “The adrenaline turned you on?”

She nods and looks away again like it’s something to be ashamed of. She has so much to learn. “That’s okay,” I reassure her. “I could tell when we were at the stoplight.”

Thea’s head snaps back to me. “What? How?”

A chuckle escapes. “I mean, the way your legs tightened around me and your hands… also, I just know you. I can pick up on those subtle things.”

“Oh… I mean, the way you touched my thigh and the high of coming down from the speed and the danger of it all. I don’t know… it did something to me.”

I want to lean down and kiss those perfect lips, however right now, with her talking about how my hands touching her got her going, I don’t think I can control myself. I distract myself by unzipping the backpack she’s wearing and pulling out a blanket.

“A moment of happiness,

you and I sitting on the verandah,

apparently two, but one in soul, you and I.

We feel the flowing water of life here,

you and I, with the garden”s beauty

and the birds singing.

The stars will be watching us,

and we will show them

what it is to be a thin crescent moon.

You and I unselfed, will be together,

indifferent to idle speculation, you and I.

The parrots of heaven will be cracking sugar

as we laugh together, you and I.

In one form upon this earth,

and in another form in a timeless sweet land.”

“That’s beautiful,” Thea tells me as we lay on the blanket, staring up at the stars in the now darkened sky.

In one hand I hold a book of poems, while my other traces circles over her bare shoulder. She tossed the jacket an hour ago when it got too hot to wear it.

“Jalal al-Din Rumi wrote it. I think it’s kind of perfect for tonight.”

Thea scoots in closer to me, laying on her side, resting her head on my shoulder and her hand on my chest. I wish she knew how right this feels for me, lying with her under the stars.

“Thank you for bringing me here. I needed this.” She pushes up on to her elbow and peers down at me. Her eyes wander over my face and I feel the pulse of that strange, yet overwhelming, thing that somehow connects us.

Thea leans down and kisses me. Our mouths move slowly, there’s no rush. Dropping the book, I run my hand through her hair. I want to deepen it and slip my tongue into her mouth, needing to know how she tastes, but I can’t.

I break our kiss. She looks confused. “I want to take our time. This has been building up for a long time and I want to do this right.” I hate lying to her.

If she could only see how much I’m holding back out of respect for Cole. If it was up to me, I’d let my tongue devour her mouth, her tits, her pussy. I wouldn’t stop until I tasted every inch of her, making her come over and over again.

If it was up to me, I’d confess how much I care for her and never stopped in the decade apart. Although I can’t tell her these things…yet. She won’t understand why Cole needs to go first. It’ll complicate things. Right now, her life doesn’t need to be any harder.

She lays her head back down on my shoulder and I smooth my hand over her wavy hair. “The stars will be watching us and we will show them…” I recite from the poem once again.

“Yes we will,” she replies softly.

THEA

I’m pulling on my pants when my phone buzzes. It’s early, no later than ten. I could use another hour or two of sleep. Sutton didn’t drop me off until two in the morning. We talked for hours under the stars and he read me all of his favorite poems.

The number comes up as unknown, however, the area code is local, so I answer.

“Hello?”

There’s a brief pause. “Hi, is this Thea?” The stranger’s voice on the other end sounds panicked.

“Yes, this is Thea. Who’s this?”

“It’s Marcia. I’m here for my appointment, but the studio is locked. I checked my confir—”

My mind races. My first client of the day isn’t supposed to be until eleven fifteen—I triple checked. What the fuck?

“Hi Marcia, just give me one moment.” I pull my phone away to glance at my calendar. Her appointment shows tomorrow at nine thirty a.m. “Can you double check the confirmation that was sent to your email?”

Her voice comes out a bit strained, edging on annoyed. “Yes, I’m looking at that right now. It says today.”

Fuck.I’ll need to figure out what the hell is going on later. Right now, I need to get to work and make sure that Cassie doesn’t find out. “I’m so sorry Marcia. You’re completely right! I’ll be there in ten minutes. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

I throw the strap of my satchel across my body, this time grabbing the extra camera batteries and charger. Hitting the pavement, I jog to my studio. My stomach growls in protest, empty of even water, but it’ll have to wait until later.

Marcia looks fucking pissed as I approach. I try to give her a broad smile to ease her annoyance. Thankfully, her face softens a little.

“Hey! I’m sorry about that. There must be an issue with my booking software. I’m going to contact the company and have them sort it out. Let’s go take some photos.”

I usher her inside, hoping my excuse is enough to put her in a somewhat good mood for her shoot.

It goes well. Still, I can tell she won’t be rebooking with me anytime soon, despite my insistence on including her album for free. The feeling of failure sets the tone for the day and while my other shoots go easy enough, I’m in a mood.

Cassie doesn’t show up until noon for her first client of the day. I’m thankful that I narrowly escaped another lecture. I hate keeping this from her, but I don’t know how to tell her without seeing that look of disappointment.

Instead, I resolve to go through all of my client confirmations to figure out what the issue is. Although, I’m entirely sure that I didn’t mess up two bookings so close together. There’s something else going on.

After my last appointment of the day leaves, I settle in to reconcile the software our studio uses against my calendar that’s synced to it and the confirmations sent to my clients. Grabbing the tablet from the front desk, I start with my first client of the day tomorrow and work my way forward.

By the time I’m finished, two months out from today, I’ve found thirteen discrepancies and zero explanations for why the dates are mismatched. All of them share a pattern. Each wrong booking has been pushed a day forward. It seems too logical to be my error. The software must be glitching.

Cassie’s the only other one with access to the tablet, although she’s too meticulous to make a mistake like this.

It’s too late to hop on a call with the program’s support team. Aside from that, it’s a Sunday and Monday is July Fourth, so the call will have to wait until Tuesday. At least I have the holiday off, even if I don’t have plans.

Cass will be at Anthony’s family’s house and while she invited me to join them, the thought of spending the evening with a bunch of people I don’t know isn’t appealing. The town is hosting their annual Fourth of July carnival, however, I’m not sure about that either. The guys haven’t mentioned anything, so maybe I’ll lie by the pool all day.

Cole: Here, love.

My heart jumps. I grab my things and lock up the studio. Sliding into Cole’s Range Rover, I lean over and kiss him. He’s the best part of my day so far. I want him to know it.

“Good day?”

I roll my eyes. “Hardly. There was another mix up with my calendar. The client wasn’t happy. I’ll have to figure it out after the holiday. But I don’t want to think about that tonight.”

He grabs my hand and smiles at me. “Then let’s just enjoy ourselves and worry about that later.”

“What the hell?” I read through the email at the dining room table. It’s the third one today. Three cancellations, each as vague as the last—something else came up, not in the budget, not feeling well. All promised to reschedule. However, I can’t seem to shake the feeling that this is too coincidental. After Marcia’s less than stellar appointment, I’m wondering if word is spreading—like Cassie said it would.

My head is in my hands when I hear footsteps approaching from behind. I slept in the guest room at Cole’s house last night, feeling too bad about asking him to drive me home so late.

“Everything good?”

I recognize Damian’s voice immediately.

Shaking my head, I decide to brush him off. I don’t want to deal with his antics right now. “I’m fine,” I snap.

“No, you’re not,” he counters. “Use your words. What’s wrong?” I huff at his condescending tone. But it doesn’t stop me from answering. If anything, it encourages me.

“I’ve gotten three cancellations today and my schedule is a bit lighter than I’d like. I’m stressed with this offer we’re going to put on a property and I just paid rent on the studio. I need to work harder to get more clients on the books.”

“Anything I can do to help, princess?”

I turn and give Damian the side eye. “Why do you call me that? Do I act stuck up or something?” Admittedly, I’m lashing out because of the terrible morning I’m having. It doesn’t seem to phase him much, he only smirks. He has a little more stubble than usual today. I’m not sure why I notice that.

Damian sits on the edge of the table, facing me, close but not touching. His arctic eyes sweep over me. “You’re in rare form. And no, I don’t think you’re stuck up.” He stands and circles behind me. I feel him grip the back of my chair. His breath ruffles my hair as he leans down to speak. “Every time I see you… all I can think about is that pretty little crown tattoo on your hip.” My face scrunches. When would he have seen that? Sensing my confusion, he explains. “The day at the pool, princess.”

My face heats at the memory. “It was a stupid teenage mistake. All girls go through a princess phase.” I turn to stare up at him. I let my flat expression tell him I don’t think I’m a royalty or someone on a pedestal. A wavy lock of dark auburn falls over his forehead.

Damian straightens and pushes the hair from his face. “That’s a damn shame. You should be someone’s princess.” The words feel strange. Who talks like this? “For the record, I don’t think it was a stupid mistake. I think it was deliberate. I think you weren’t given enough attention growing up, or maybe your parents didn’t give you the praise you deserved. You were telling the world or yourself that you deserved to be treated better.” My face twists at his evaluation. “It’s the same reason you latched onto someone like Gavin for so long. That’s the kind of love you’re used to. I mean, that’s the only explanation I can come to for you not choosing Sutton, who’s a much better match for you.”

What the fuck? I hate that he’s right, but God damn, did he have to say it out loud? I barely know him. He’s out of line. The best I can do is deny what he’s said—Damian hasn’t earned access to my past or my vulnerability.

“I dated Gavin because he made a move. Sutton had the chance to ask me out for two years and I was tired of waiting. And how do you know anything about Sutton and I?”

Damian sits his hand on my shoulder. It makes me go rigid. “When he came home from college, I could tell he was different, like a piece of himself was missing. He finally told us all about the girl who he couldn’t get out of his head, who made his whole day with her smile and sparkling eyes… the one who’d gotten away.” He squeezes. “The thing is, that feeling was mutual and you could have made a move on him during those two years, yet you didn’t.”

I’m scowling now and my skin is burning hot from anger. Anger at Damian and also at myself. He’s right. If I would have made a move, my life might have been so different. I could have been different.

His hand moves up to the side of my neck, his palm covers it easily. Damian’s fingers splay over the column of my throat. Swallowing hard, my body starts to tremble. I don’t know if it’s the action itself or if it’s because he’s doing it.

Sensing my nervousness and likely the pounding pulse in my neck, his hand slides away reluctantly. “I’ve been watching you both over the last couple of weeks… He’s a good match for you. You two have a connection that very few can understand.”

“I-I…” I don’t know what to say. He isn’t wrong, in fact he’s spot fucking on. About all of it. Not getting enough praise. The tattoo. Sutton.

He extends me a courtesy. “Would you like me to stop calling you princess?”

I cast my eyes down as my cheeks bloom red. “No,” I admit honestly. The pet name shocked me at first, but now… I’ve come to tolerate it. Maybe more than tolerate. It makes me feel special, like I’m someone important. It’s so pathetic, needing attention this badly, especially when it comes from Damian.

I expect him to walk away, satisfied that he’s won. Instead, his arm wraps around me from behind. My eyes travel over the tattoos on his arm—skulls stacked on top of one another, filled in by black ink. I have the strange thought that it looks like a mass grave. It makes me shudder.

Once again, he rests his hand over my throat—not so lightly this time.

He tilts my chin up so his cheek meets mine. My lips part in response. We’ve never touched like this before. It feels too intimate. Still, I can’t pull away.

His voice is low and husky when he whispers, “Good girl” against my cheek. Damian squeezes my throat, sending a rush of heat between my legs. Fuck me. Do I have a praise kink?

I can’t think beyond the smell of citrus and sea breeze that’s coming from him or the feel of his body so close to mine. I don’t want to be turned on by him, yet I can’t help it. There’s something about the way he carries himself that intrigues me.

Damian doesn’t show that he notices what his words do to me, instead he straightens and starts walking away.

“Let me know if you need anything, princess. I’m always here.”