Cate

Ashlynn looked as though she wanted to gauge my eyes out when Zac and I brushed past her. I kept my gaze fixed straight ahead. Nepo babies like Ashlynn had made up more than half of the student population at Ashton Wellesley. I was used to dealing with bullshit like hers, and there was nothing I enjoyed more than out-bitching a bitch.

Zac proceeded to introduce me to everyone else at the barbecue. The next thirty minutes provided an eye-opening glimpse into my boyfriend's social circle. Zac's best friend, Wes, was stick-skinny, blonder than Ashlynn, and sweet to a fault. His personality was nothing like his sister.

"Thank you for having us, Wes," I said as I shook his hand. His palm felt clammy between my fingers. "So nice to meet you at last. Zac talks about you all the time."

Zac coughed. "I don't talk about Wes that much."

Wes mumbled with a shy smile, "I'm happy that you could make it today, Cate. Zac never stops talking about you, you know."

Zac coughed again. "You're breaking bro code, dude."

I snickered quietly as Zac shot me a sheepish look. Wes eyed us with amusement. I proceeded to pepper Wes with all sorts of nosy questions about Zac.

What do you guys do for fun?

I took care not to ask anything too personal.

Are you excited for senior year of high school?

He answered them with a genuine openness that I really appreciated. I could tell Wes cared about Zac, and the more we spoke, the more comforted I felt knowing that Zac wouldn't be alone when I was in DC. Wes was looking out for him.

In truth, I was always worried about Zac.

Even though Zac put on a brave, happy face in front of me, I never failed to notice the frustration that would sometimes flash across his face when he encountered something from the past that felt unfamiliar to him. His body might be recovering just fine, but it was going to take a much longer time for the rest of him to feel whole again.

A few minutes later, Wes left our side to resume his hosting duties. Zac and I grabbed some food and mingled further into the crowd. Troy Ashby and his girlfriend, Phillipa Hatzi, came from new money, and they were Hamptons-obsessed. The couple kept asking me if my dad owned any properties in Southampton Village or Bridgehampton, which were some of the more expensive neighborhoods in the area.

When I told them that my family didn't own anything in the Hamptons, Troy and Phillipa lost interest in talking to me. Little did they know, my dad owned quite a few multimillion-dollar properties in Chicago, Boston, Martha's Vineyard, and DC. I chose to keep quiet about it, though. I didn't feel like showing my hand this early on. A devious, petty part of me wanted to lean into the public school student persona that these Upper Eastsiders had already assigned me. Assholes tended to show their true colors in the presence of those they deemed lesser than, and I wanted to see these fuckers at their worst. This would be the fastest way to determine if any of them would ever try to take advantage of Zac and his fragmented memories.

Just then, two guys whom Zac referred to as the Sebastians strode towards us. Seb Jr. was tall, dark, and gangly. Bast was shorter, stouter, and blonde.

From the moment we started exchanging pleasantries, neither Seb Jr. nor Bast seemed capable of tearing their gazes away from my boobs. Granted, to be fair, they were teenage boys, and my coverup dress was very transparent. I suspected The Girls probably looked amazing in my new CK bikini, but these dipshits weren't even trying to be subtle about their leering eyeballs.

I was about to call them out when Zac beat me to the punch. In low, threatening tones, Zac asserted, "If you guys don't move your eyeballs twelve inches north within the next two seconds, then I'm gonna knock you out so all you see is black."

Seb Jr. glanced away and stammered like a guilty child, "Uh, I swear, I wasn't staring!"

Zac's expression hardened. "Bullshit."

Looking angry and embarrassed, Seb Jr. quickly excused himself to go to the bathroom. Bast, however, remained undeterred. He smirked. "Stand down, Mazur. I was just trying to figure out why you've been making such a big fuss over public school pussy. I think I get it now. Her assets are definitely impressive."

Zac smiled back tightly while his jaw clenched. "Keep talking shit, Bast, and see what happens."

Bast glanced at Zac warily, but the self-entitled smirk didn't fade from his stupid face.

"Apologize to Cate," Zac insisted.

"Make me," Bast taunted.

Zac's hands balled into fists. My eyes darted between the two boys. Zac was taller, but Bast was stockier. I could feel the testosterone thickening in the air. I didn't want a fight to break out.

"Your interest in my assets is appreciated, Bast, but I'm only into guys with big dicks," I interjected smoothly while giving him a critical once over. My sharp gaze hovered over his crotch. "Looks like you don't quite make the cut."

"Excuse me?"

I tossed back, "How does it feel to be objectified like a piece of fucking meat?"

"Don't give me that woke bullshit. It's annoying as fuck."

"Then don't be a giant asshole with Tiny Dick Energy."

As Bast balked at my jab, I stood on my tiptoes, slid my arms around Zac, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss on his lips. By the time I pulled away, both Zac and Bast's faces had flushed rosy red for completely different reasons.

Zac murmured dazedly, "Damn, babygirl."

Bast muttered under his breath, "Gold digging slut!"

I coughed into my fist, "Micropenis!"

Bast scowled. "Dumb bitch."

I laughed. "I may be a bitch, but I'm definitely not a dumb one."

Bast stared at me with renewed curiosity. "I gotta say, Mazur, your new girl isn't at all what I expected."

Zac glared daggers. "What were you expecting? A fucking unicorn?"

Bast grinned. "I don't know, exactly, but she's feisty. I like her."

With a half-joking, half-serious voice, Zac murmured, "Now I really wanna punch your face."

Bast ignored Zac's warning. He had the audacity to wink at me. "Your name's Cate, right? If you ever get bored with this idiot over here, don't be shy—hit me up, girl."

Zac chuckled as he pulled me back into his arms. "Fuck off, dude."

I snuggled into Zac's embrace and smirked at Bast. "I'm good, thanks."

With an amused expression, Bast sniggered as he retreated from us. "Suit yourself, assholes."

After Bast was gone, Zac murmured to me, "Sorry about that, babygirl. No one here really likes that guy, but Wes had to invite Bast because their dads are friends."

"It's fine," I assured him. "He was annoying but harmless."

Zac grimaced. "I think he might have a crush on you now."

I teased, "Worried, baby?"

"A little," he admitted.

"You're cute when you're jealous."

Zac turned beet red. At this moment, my man looked so adorable that I couldn't resist kissing him some more until he practically swooned in my arms. Softly, he moaned, "Babygirl, if you don't want me to throw you over my shoulder and haul ass back to your hotel room, then back off so I can cool down."

I took a step back and suggested innocently, "Or we could get in the hot tub. Then, there would be no need to cool down at all."

Zac nearly choked on my proposal. He stuttered, "God, you're killing me over here."

I giggled quietly. "I promise you'll die happy."

"Come on, let's go find that fucking hot tub." With his jaw set with determination, Zac grabbed my hand and started leading me towards the rooftop like a soldier on a mission. We were, unfortunately, called back halfway up the stairs by his friends Quentin and Simon.

"Yo, Mazur!" Quentin hollered. "Is that your Heather from DC?"

"Bring her over here! We've been dying to meet your girl!" Simon insisted.

Reluctantly, Zac and I made our way over to them. On the plus side, Quentin and Simon proved to be much more pleasant to talk to than Ashlynn and Bast. Quentin showered me with praise. Simon cracked jokes. Neither of them made any snide remarks about public schools. Yet, they didn't feel as genuine as Wes. There was something too slick and polished about their demeanor. I didn't know quite what to make of them. After we parted ways with Quentin and Simon, we ran into a few more of Zac's friends and classmates. Most of them were nice and polite, but they irritated me, nonetheless. Every encounter kept delaying my plans to make out with Zac in the hot tub.

Boo.

To make matters worse, the longer I watched Zac interact with his peers, the more my libido fizzled away. I couldn't help but notice the lost gleam in Zac's eyes whenever their conversations dipped into the recent past. His friends seemed completely oblivious to his struggles. Zac tried to mask his confusion by laughing it off, but it broke my heart to see him this way.

A protective instinct rose inside me. At the start of this trip, I had been determined to keep things light between us for the sake of Harvey Waldron's ongoing trial, but, now, the heaviness of our situation was beginning to weigh on me once more.

In a few weeks, senior year would be upon us. I hoped that Zac would be able to handle going back to school on top of everything else he was dealing with. Zac once told me that Briarley Prep was very similar to Ashton Wellesley. This troubled me. If Zac wasn't careful, his classmates were going to eat him alive. I hated the idea of not being able to be there with him. To be there for him. I prayed that his school would have more kids like Ashlynn, Bast, Troy, and Priscilla. They were easier to read and, thus, easier to outmaneuver. I didn't think they would give Zac too much trouble.

It was the Troys and Quentins in Zac's world that made me uneasy. If they were anything like the sharks I dealt with back at Ashton Wellesley, they could very well be wolves hiding in sheeps' clothing. More than anything, I wished to place an impenetrable shield around my beautiful brown-eyed boy—to protect him from those with evil intent—but I knew it wouldn't be possible. I'd be back in DC by the end of this week. Suddenly, I wanted to tell Zac everything that I wasn't supposed to yet. If I couldn't shield Zac from reality, the least I could do was hand him a sword. A mighty sword that he could use to defend himself against other people's lies and their skewed versions of his past.

An all too familiar sense of dread returned to me, then.

What if the truth was too much for Zac to handle?

Conflict warred within.

What was more important right now?

To protect Zac from others?

Or himself?

The smile never left my face as I continued to make small talk with Zac's friends, but my mind was a million miles away, mulling over the same dilemma that had haunted me over the past few months.