Page 21 of What They Say

Even if they came with red stockings, sharp words, and walls he’d have to earn the right to climb.

***

Kath

Kath parked in the employee lot behind The Grindhouse and sat on the bike for a long moment, helmet still on, letting the day’s warmth fade from her skin. The conversation with Chase still lingered in her mind like a favorite song she couldn’t stop replaying—his quiet laugh, the way his voice had softened when he said her name.

She finally swung off the bike and pulled her helmet free, shaking out her hair. As she turned towards the back door, a prickle crawled up the back of her neck—the unmistakable feeling of being watched. It wasn’t the casual glance of a coworker or a customer cutting through the lot. This felt heavier. Intentional.

Kath paused, heart picking up speed. She scanned the rows of cars, her grip tightening on the helmet. A dark sedan sat two rows over, windows tinted too dark for the bright afternoon sun. No one got out. No doors opened. The engine wasn’t even running. It just sat there, like whoever was inside had been waiting specifically for her.

A cold knot formed in her stomach. This wasn’t the first time she’d noticed it lately—a shadow in her periphery, the same nondescript car appearing in odd places. She’d brushed it off as leftover paranoia from years of living with Mom’s drama and unpredictable boyfriends. But this felt different. More focused. More wrong.

Her pulse hammered. Enough. She wasn’t going to spend her whole life shrinking and hiding.

Kath took a step towards the sedan, chin lifted, mouth already opening to call out. “Hey! Can I help you with something?”

For a split second, nothing happened. Then the engine roared to life with a guttural growl. Tires screeched against the pavement as the car reversed sharply, fishtailing once before shooting forwards and speeding out of the lot. She caught only a glimpse of the rear plate, mud-splattered and unreadable, before it disappeared around the corner.

Kath stood frozen, helmet dangling from her fingers, adrenaline surging through her veins. Her breath came shallow and fast. She wanted to believe it was nothing. Just some creep who got spooked. But the fear lingered, thick and bitter, wrapping around the warm memory of Chase until it felt tainted.

She walked a little faster to the back door, keys already in hand, and didn’t breathe easily until she was inside the coffee shop’s familiar bustle, surrounded by the clatter of cups and the hiss of the espresso machine.

Chapter Six

Kath

Kath wiped down the espresso machine for the third time in ten minutes, her rag moving in tight, frustrated circles. The afternoon lull at The Grindhouse had given her too much time to think, and her brain wouldn’t stop replaying that one morning at the diner.

Chase.

Gray eyes that actually listened. A quiet voice that didn’t try to fill every silence. The way he’d looked at her as if she was interesting instead of just another girl on a bike.

It was dangerous how much she kept thinking about him.

She tossed the rag into the sink harder than necessary. You are not your mother.

The thought hit like a reflex. Her mom had chased every spark of attention like it was oxygen—truckers, musicians, basically whoever looked at her twice. She’d leave for weeks at a time, then come back home with new bruises and new excuses before meeting someone new, always convinced this one was different. Always wrong.

Kath had sworn a long time ago that she wouldn’t be that woman. She wouldn’t let a pretty face and a good conversation make her stupid.

But damn if Chase hadn’t gotten under her skin in one conversation.

The bell over the door jingled. Kath looked up automatically, her standard customer-service smile already forming—and froze.

Chase walked in, hands in his pockets, wearing a faded black T-shirt and jeans that looked like they’d seen actual work. His eyes found her immediately, and that small, tentative smile appeared again. The one that made her stomach do stupid things.

“Hey,” he said, stopping at the counter. “Hope it’s okay I stopped by. I didn’t know your last name or where you worked, but Bear mentioned The Grindhouse...”

He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck like he was suddenly unsure. It was disarmingly cute.

Kath leaned on the counter, trying to play it cool even though her pulse had kicked up. “Stalking me already?”

“More like hoping,” he admitted. “Figured if you told me to get lost, I’d at least get a decent cup of coffee out of it.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. “Bold. I like it.” She grabbed a cup. “What do you want?”

“Whatever’s good. Surprise me.” He pulled in what looked like an intentional breath, then said, “I’m Chase Mason. I’d like your number, if that’s not too bold.”