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“Casey, I’m not sure that I know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play stupid, you know my name. Stay away from us.” She gestures toward our table, calling attention to me and Serena, like an idiot. I try to duck down, sliding deeper into the booth until I’m sure I’m no longer visible.

But you know what they say about trying? It’s an omission of failure.

Felicity’s laugh rings loud in the shop, making me groan because I know that she saw me.

“Trust me, Casey, I want nothing to do with you, your fat friend, or the brain. You’re all fucking pathetic. I mean, really? Coming up to me in a coffee shop while I was minding my own business? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were stalking me. Hm, maybe I should take a picture of this and send it around to show everyone how pathetic you are?”

“Go ahead. But just know, my father is a medical examiner, and I know how to kill a person and make it look like natural causes.” Oh fuck, CeCe’s crazy is showing. Felicity must realize it too because she pales and backs away quickly, nearly sending Jordan to the floor.

“Stay away from me, you fucking psycho,” Felicity nearly screams but CeCe just smiles, looking like the picture of an innocent angel.

“Now, Felicia, I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.” With that, CeCe turns her back on Felicity and saunters back to the table with the regal grace of a queen.

“I feel like I just watched a deleted scene fromThe Godfather.I am equal parts impressed and horrified,” Serena whispers as she slides deeper into the booth to make room for CeCe.

“She needed to know that she cannot fuck with you, with us, and get away with it.” CeCe shrugs. “Besides, she all but admitted it was her.”

“No, she did not,” I argue. “She said that she’d take a picture of you acting like a mob boss from 1952. She never once mentioned or alluded to anything about me or Grey.”

“Ava, you don’t think that it was a little too coincidental that she threatened to take a picture of me for retaliation? You don’t think, in that big brain of yours, that she all but confessed that she was behind the texts and picture with that one statement?”

“No, Celeste, I do not.”

“Well, you’re an idiot then.”

“Okay, ladies,” Serena chimes in. “Let’s agree to disagree about that. Plus, Felicity is toxic, and we don’t want her in our lives anyway, right?”

“Right,” I grumble. CeCe follows suit.

“Great, we can agree on that. So, let’s finish our coffees. Talk about our outfits for Saturday night.” She pauses, pointing at me. “We’re going to the soccer house, Ava. Talk to Greyson and let him know to avoid you. Hopefully, by next semester, your unknown sender will forget about you and Greyson and be onto their next victim so that you can live your life.”

I fucking hope so.

Greyson

“Hell fucking no, Ava.”

“Greyson, please. You know that if you come up to me tomorrow night, you’ll unleash a shit storm.”

“No, Ava, I don’t know that. It’s been three weeks. You haven’t gotten a single fucking message, picture, threat, or goddamn letter through a carrier pigeon in that time. The threat, the fucking risk. It’s over. They forgot about us. They don’t give a shit anymore, we’re old news.” I inhale, trying to calm how pissed off I am. “God dammit, vixen. I told you, you’re mine, and I’m fucking sick of hiding it. You won’t even let me fucking see you.”

During our regular evening call, after our classes are finished and we’re holed up in our rooms, Ava dropped the bomb that Serena and the pit bull told her I’d be at the soccer house tomorrow night. I’m fucking livid. If there’s anything I’ve learned in the month that we’ve been talking, Ava overthinks every fucking thing. Her clothes, her assignments, her words, and her actions. I knew that if she had advance notice that I’d be there, she’d freak the fuck out and pull this shit. I told Dylan and Dante to lock this shit down and not to tell their women, but they fucked me over.

Her request to act like we don’t know each other, like I don’t know the sound she makes when she comes all over my face, is fucking comical.

“Vixen, can you honestly tell me that you can handle seeing me and not acknowledge me?”

She lets out a breath. “It’s not what I want, Greyson, but what are we supposed to do?”

“Come over.”

“W-what?” she startles, not expecting my demand.

“If you want to act like we don’t know each other, come over tonight, now, and talk to me face to face.”

“Greyson,” she hisses, lowering her voice like there were listening devices planted in her room. “You know I can’t do that.”