The pact, p.7
The Pact, page 7
I hold my breath, straining to hear his answer over the pounding in my ears. “I think so,” he says and my heart leaps. It’s too soon. The logical part of me tries to reason with the surge of excitement.
“Cole…,” Sutton’s voice is tense, although I don’t know why. It sounds like a warning. “You know what that means.” His words feel loaded and full of things I’ll never understand.
“I do.” Feet shuffle above, making me hurry back to my room. Quickly, but quietly, I close the door and lean my back against it. My thoughts race, trying to sort out my feelings.
My head is a mess. What I do know is whatever this is with Cole feels right. I know I can trust Sutton. And perhaps I’m wrong about Damian. He’s cold and hard, yet maybe there’s more to him than meets the eye.
Sleep came quickly and I wake up well rested. Light streams in from the window on the other side of the room. I’m eager to see these views that were hidden from me last night.
I hold down the power button on my phone. Pulling myself from the softness of the comforter, I walk to the window. Peering through it, I see green—everywhere. It looks like their home has been plopped in the middle of a forest, with no one around for miles. I can make out the river, just barely. From the wall of windows in the living room, I know I’ll be able to see it all.
Peering in both directions, I see the balcony wraps around the length of the house, although this room doesn’t have a door that leads out.
The sound of notifications ding on my phone, one after the other, drawing my attention away from the outside world. Walking to the nightstand, I pick it up. It’s almost dead. I check the time first. It’s ten after eight. Then the notifications. A handful of emails, social media, and two unread texts.
Cassie: Making sure you’re still alive!
I laugh a little. Good God, woman. I see the time of the message—six fifteen. Does she ever sleep?
Me: Alive and well. See you soon.
The second text is one I’ve been expecting and dreading. I’ve let her calls go to voicemail for three weeks. I blame my prying nature on her. My mother can’t let anything be and I know that I’ve kept my parents away longer than I thought I could.
Mother: Haven’t talked in a while. We want to come up in a couple of weeks. Pick a day or we’ll pop in when it’s convenient for us. -Mom
Checking my calendar, I find a weekend that will work, although I’m sure I’ll get shit for it being a couple of weeks after Father’s Day. Not from him necessarily, definitely from her. She doesn’t have to say anything outright anymore. I can pick up on her minor facial expressions and backhanded compliments.
Something as simple as a purse of her lips or what others might see as an innocent observation, I know as criticism. She's rarely blunt. She won’t tell me I’m not living up to her expectations or that I’m wasting my time with a career in photography. Comments like, “It must be nice to uplift your life at the drop of a hat, not a care in the world about finding a job.” Subtle jabs. It’s truly an art form that Kendra Griffin excels in.
Me: I’m free on Sunday the 26th, can you guys come then?
Mother: Yes. -Mom
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.
Staring up at Sutton, I tell him what’s on my mind. “It feels like no time has passed since I last saw you. This…,” I point to the closeness between us. “It’s what we do. But—”
“You’re worried Cole will get jealous.” He finishes my sentence.
“Maybe not jealous, possibly feel overshadowed?” I question, hoping he can tell me if that's a better word. That’s what I felt last night. Jealousy often comes with anger. It felt like Cole was more disappointed than anything.
Sutton kisses the top of my head and steps away out of respect.
“I’m happy to have you around again, even if it’s at a distance,” he jokes, extending his arm, his fingers just out of reach. “Want to help me make breakfast for the pack?”
“The pack?” I laugh out.
He shrugs. “We kind of leaned into it a long time ago.” He flashes his ring. “This is our den,” he says, looking around the living room. “We’re a pack. We even changed our last names a few years back. Wolfe. It makes things run a lot smoother.”
“So…no longer Sutton Alstead?” That’s who I knew him as in college.
He shakes his head. “Sutton Wolfe.”
I cock my head. “I don’t know, sounds a little culty,” I joke.
He waggles his fingers at me. “It’s very culty,” he chuckles out. “C’mon.” I follow him to the kitchen.
Wesley is already pulling food from the fridge.
“We’ve got this, man.” Sutton’s hand rests on his brother’s shoulder. Wesley doesn’t fight him. He heads back into the living room. “Alright, I need you to crack these eggs.” He pushes two cartons towards me.
“There’s no way you guys eat this much.” Two dozen eggs are a heinous amount for five people.
He grins at me. “Oh, that’s only the start.”
I crack the eggs and watch Sutton pull out a pack of bacon, a carton of yogurt, and berries. This is way too much food. “You guys eat like this every day?”
Sutton laughs, “No, not every day. But a few times a week, yes. To be fair, Wesley eats enough for three people.”
A humph comes from the other room in response.
There’s something I want to ask him, however, I’m nervous. After stalling for a moment, I force it out. “Sutton…” His amber eyes meet mine. “You know Cole and I both separately. Do you think we’d be good for each other?”
Under any other circumstances, I’d never ask this. Although, after eavesdropping on the conversation last night and Cole’s confession that he sees this becoming serious, I’m curious. I know I can trust Sutton’s opinion.
He sets down the knife he’s using to chop onions. My stomach drops. “Cole is a good guy… he’s my brother… and you, well, you know I think the world of you.” The words should be comforting, yet there’s a hesitation that has me waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Most of the women that we bring around don’t stay very long. I don’t want either of you getting hurt.”
“Why don’t they stay?” I wonder if there’s a consistent pattern, like a fear of commitment or, worse, cheating.
Sutton bites his lip and I know there’s something he’s holding back. He’s worried. “Most of the time it starts off great. They see we’re close and they love it, although they eventually want more. More alone time away from the rest of us. They try to come between us. It’s hard for most people to accept that our bond is our top priority. Nothing is going to change that.”
I understand what he’s saying and I can’t promise that I won’t want a life apart from his brothers someday. I can’t promise that I won’t want marriage or privacy.
“So, if I want things to work with Cole… I’d have to be okay with living separate from him or what… living here with everyone? I mean, if all of you get into relationships, you’d all want your girlfriends or wives to move in here?” The concept seems chaotic. Is this why Damian built them the house of their dreams? To create a commune of sorts?
Sutton returns to chopping onions. “We’d figure out a way for it to work. I don’t want to scare you off, but you deserve to know. Our bond is forever.”
We finish making five massive omelets, a plate of bacon, and individual bowls of yogurt topped with berries.
Sutton calls out, “Breakfast!” And the horde comes running. The previously quiet house is now a bustle of doors opening and closing, footsteps, and morning greetings.
My thoughts are churning while I eat. Cole keeps trying to talk to me, however, he has to repeat everything he says since I can’t seem to pay attention.
“Can you give me a ride to work?” He asks for a second time. I smile and nod.
I don’t want to overthink this. What Cole and I have is new and although he sees this going somewhere, I haven’t had time to sift through my own feelings. There is something special between us and I want to explore that. But I need to make sure that I’m not getting ahead of myself.
I’ve let my emotions rule me before and it was disastrous. I can’t do that again. Even if all men are not the same. Even if Cole isn’t the same as Gavin.
9
WESLEY
I watch her leave with Cole and breath out in relief. Fuck Cole for not letting me know he’d have someone over. It’s not like him and I want to give him some grace. However, bringing Thea around means the inevitable is coming.
I’m not ready for it.
I can’t tell my brothers any of this—they won’t understand. They’ll tell me it’s been two years and I need to work through whatever shit I’m still holding onto. It isn’t that easy.
I catch Damian staring at me from the kitchen. “You good?”
What am I supposed to say? No? He isn’t any better. Both of us have certain emotions locked behind an airtight vault. “Yeah. All good.” I don’t hide that it’s a lie. We’ve known each other long enough that even if I tried, he’d pick up on it easily.
Staring down at my phone, I hope he gets the hint that I want to be left alone. This isn’t how I want to start my morning. I’m running my fingers through my hair when I feel a hand on my shoulder. Glancing up, I see Sutton.
“Trust me,” he says, squeezing. “This was the last thing in the world I was prepared for.”
He said they’ve known each other for years. It’s news to me. I’ve never heard him mention Thea’s name.
“How do you know her?”
Sutton pulls out a chair and sits down. “College.”
That tells me everything I need to know. Fuck me. “That’s her? That’s the girl you wouldn’t shut up about when you came back home?”
He nods and I feel guilty for wallowing in my feelings. He has it so much worse.
When Sutton moved back to Willow Hill after graduating, all we heard about was the girl he was too scared to make a move on for two years. She met some guy. He kept hoping it wouldn’t work out. He promised himself if they broke up, he wouldn’t let the opportunity pass him by again. But they didn’t break up, at least not while they were in college.
So we listened to him talk about her constantly. He’d tell us funny stories about the antics that young, stupid college kids get into. He’d tell us about this energy that seemed to connect them, all that woo-woo shit.
It was the other stuff that interested me the most.
They never hooked up, although he was pretty sure there was a mutual interest there before she started dating her ex. I don’t remember most of the shit he said. What I do remember is him talking about those sundresses she’d wear… Fuck, his words are still clear as day—to be fair, Sutton has always had a way with words and painting a picture with them.
He’d go on and on about how she’d wear them almost daily and that it was hard for him to keep his eyes off her lush thighs, his words not mine. They’d be watching a movie in his bed and she’d throw her leg over his, her dress pulling up higher. I’d get hard hearing him describe her curvy body, her bouncy tits, and full lips.
As good as he is with his words, she’s so much better in person. Cole’s clothes stretched out over her hips had me wanting to grab her by them, had me wanting to dig my fingers into her soft skin.
Jesus. My cock’s twitching just thinking about it.
As much as my body’s reacting to thinking about hers, it’s her eyes that are haunting me. I’ve only seen that shade of blue once before. Chills spread over my skin at the thought.
Pushing her from my mind, I sympathize with Sutton. “Sorry, bro.” I let some of my moodiness fall away.
I’ve always been protective of him, Damian too, but life hardened Damian and he toughened up quickly. Sutton took more time. Both were easy targets for bullies when they were younger. Sutton was a grade below us and scrawny. His reading problems didn’t help matters.
While Damian focused on getting physically stronger to become less appealing to his bullies, Sutton focused on overcoming his academic weakness, which only put more of a target on his back. He went from the kid who couldn’t read to the bookworm. It was only when he hit high school that he figured out a way to counteract his “nerdiness” as he’d call it.
His parents bought him his first motorcycle in his senior year when he turned eighteen. That’s all it took for the ladies to notice him and for that teacher’s pet reputation to fall away. Damian and I had graduated by then, but we talked every day. He’d tell us about the parties he’d get invited to and his latest girlfriend, all while secretly maintaining perfect grades.
