They knew before I did.
They knew it would end this way. And Grey's fulfilling the prophecy, giving them just they want.
Cass sighs. Pulls me into a hug.
"It's all going to be okay," she promises.
I wish I could believe her.
"Call me later?"
I nod. Drift to my car. Drive home on autopilot.
My palms are a sweaty mess by the time I pull into my driveway. Grey's already there, leaning against his truck. I realize I haven't seen the thunderstorm in him, not for a while. I didn't miss it, not even a little.
"Everything's fine," I say to the inside of my car, smiling because it makes me feel better.
I pop open the door and climb out, striding to meet him. And then I really look at him. Fear lashes me like a whip. His pale eyes are tight and tortured. My smile fades. "Grey. What's wrong?"
He takes off his hat, rakes a hand through his hair, puts it back on. "I think we need to take a minute. Cool off."
I already knew what he was going to say, and I wonder if that doesn't somehow make it hurt even worse than it does.
"Cool off," I echo. "Is this because of what those women said to you?"
"The whole town is talking, Molly."
"I know they are--"
"No, I don't think you do." His voice is tight, sharp. "It's been less than a day, and already they're…they're saying…" He shakes his head as if to clear it. "Everyone has an opinion. About our age, about me--"how I’m
"Taking advantage of me?" The bitterness in my voice surprises even me.
His eyes stay locked to mine through a beat of silence. "Yes."
"And do you think that? That you're taking advantage?"
"No, but--"
"Then who cares?"
"Me!" he snaps. "I care, Molly. Not about me. I don't fucking care what they say about me. They're talking aboutyou. And it's only going to get worse."
"So what, we just…stop? Give them what they want?"
"Just for a little while. Until they move on to something else."
"How long?"
"I don't know."
My stomach pitches, hot tears stinging my eyes. "This…you're saying that…after all we…and now you're…" My breath hitches. "This is bullshit, Grey."
"I know." He steps closer, pulls me into his chest, and with the contact, my tears fall freely, silently, my glasses smushed and foggy. "Molly, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You know this isn't what I want."
I'm not sure I do anymore, but I keep it to myself.
"But I don't know what else to do. Molly, I--" His voice cracks. "It's killing me, hearing them talk about you. Like you're just a naive kid who doesn't know what she's doing."
