Page 47 of The Banned Books Club

He watched as she took a tentative sip of the hot chocolate he’d made and couldn’t help noticing the subtle changes in her face and body since he’d first known her. He’d already admitted to himself that she was even more attractive these days, but now he had the chance to study her long enough to decide why. Her face had thinned slightly, making the most of her high cheekbones. She hadn’t lost that dusting of freckles across her nose, which he hadn’t been able to see from his window. And her eyes, while wary and distrusting, also seemed...hopeful, and he found that incredibly appealing—that she hadn’t become a total cynic.

If she were any other woman, he knew he’d go to bed dreaming about those eyes. “If I’m being honest, I invited you over hoping there would be something about you—or something you said—to shore up my belief in my father. Ignorance is bliss, right?”

“The truth is the truth,” she replied.

He nodded. “I know. And hiding from it doesn’t help.”

For a moment, his honesty seemed to take her aback. She’d barely drunk any of her hot chocolate, but she shoved the cup away and got off the stool. “It’s not your fault. None of it was ever your fault. I’m sorry you were hurt by it, too. I feel terrible your whole family was hurt. That was never my intention when I came forward. I just... I wanted to get out of his class and be able to go to college.”

Of course. Anyone in her shoes would want the same thing. He believed her. Everything—her tone of voice, her approach to the subject, the sincerity in her expression and body language—suggestedshewas the one telling the truth. If he’d ever been willing to hear her before,reallyhear her, he might’ve come to the same conclusion. But it’d been too awful a reality to face.

It wasn’t easy even now.

“Shit,” he said, coming around the island to sink into a chair.

She’d started to leave, but seeing this, she hesitated. “What is it?”

“I wish you were lying. I wish...I wish he didn’t do it.”

The empathy in her expression when she briefly touched his shoulder surprised him, because it let him know that they really had been victimizing an innocent person. Acaringperson. “It’s in the past, Cormac. Let it go,” she said and showed herself out.

But she didn’t understand. Hecouldn’tlet it go. His father was still perpetuating a fake story, still refusing to take responsibility—still hurting Gia by calling her a liar.

13

Cormac believed her. Gia never thought she’d see the day. Neither could she have anticipated the feeling of relief it would bring. She knew she shouldn’t care what anyone else thought, least of all Mr. Hart’s family. The therapist had emphasized that over and over.You know the truth. That’s all that matters.But she couldn’t help herself. The Harts were part of the fabric of her hometown, and right or wrong, their side of the story had a certain contagion. The way Ruth and Sammie were acting—so hesitant to continue to be her friend—proved it. The last person she’deverthought would join her side would be Cormac, the dude who’d harangued her at her locker the day the news broke. She hadn’t even had to say much to him tonight, hadn’t even really bothered to plead her case.

She’d assumed it would be futile...

Pulling out the front of the royal blue sweatshirt he’d lent her so she could look down at it, she studied the white “Duke” lettering. She’d been so stunned she’d forgotten her own shirt in the bathroom when she left his house. She figured he’d put it on the fence after the storm passed, just as he’d instructed her to do with his.

She considered taking off his sweatshirt so she could wash it right away. She didn’t want to explain to her parents where she’d gotten an oversized Duke sweatshirt. But the storm wasn’t due to move on until the day after tomorrow, so she had time; she wasn’t prepared to give up the comfort it provided. The fleece was thick and warm, but the fact that this particular sweatshirt belonged to Cormac made it special. It served as proof of what’d transpired tonight, and she wanted to live in that moment as long as possible.

“At last,” she muttered as she let go of it and fell back onto her pillows.

Curious to see if Cormac was still up, she climbed off the bed and went to the window—only to find him standing athiswindow, staring out at her.

Dropping the curtain, she jumped back. Had he seen her? If so, had he noticed she was still wearing his sweatshirt? Would it seem weird that she hadn’t been more anxious to get out of it?

She had no clue what he might be thinking. She hadn’t known him that well even back in high school. He was a year younger, had been a particularly good baseball player who’d come to a few of her Banned Books Club meetings. That was all.

She thought of the get-together she’d arranged this weekend. Considering the strain in her relationship with Sammie and Ruth, she was tempted to cancel it, but there were a lot more people from the club who were coming.

Besides, she didn’t want to look like a coward. That would only make them believe she was guilty. Because she respected how he’d handled this evening, as well as the incident at his office, she decided to invite Cormac. She couldn’t imagine he’d ever be willing to come. That’d be taking a stand against his own flesh and blood. But an invitation would probably be nice...

Edging forward, she peeked out through the crack in the drapes. He was gone.

Telling herself she was silly to keep wearing his sweatshirt, she finally pulled it off and put on one of her own. But she took it to bed with her and kept looking at it as she got out her laptop. Over the years, she’d tried not to spend much time dwelling on Cormac and his sisters. That only made the past more painful, because then she’d wonder if she could have spared them had she not come forward. The therapist said she’d done the right thing, that someone had to put a stop to that kind of behavior, but she wasn’t convinced he would’ve gone on to victimize other students. What’d happened with her could’ve been the perfect storm.

She glanced at Cormac’s sweatshirt again. What kind of man had he become? He seemed fair, just, kind, honorable. And he was obviously smart.

After navigating to Instagram, she searched for his account, which was filled with pictures of his dog, an old motorcycle he was restoring and various members of his family. She didn’t see any photographs of women, except in a few groups that contained both sexes, which seemed to confirm what Sammie had said—he wasn’t currently dating anyone.

He was thirty-four. Why hadn’t he settled down? He had a lot to offer a woman. He was an educated professional in a town of mostly blue-collar farmers. He already had a home. He’d inherited his mother’s height and regal bearing—her bone structure, too, which made him even more attractive.

He probably wasn’t ready to settle down...

As she surfed around, she found a separate account for his clinic. From the differences between what she found posted there versus his personal account, Gia guessed Louisa handled the clinic’s social media, which was filled with darling pictures of various pets and their owners, Louisa at the front desk or with her kids coming into the clinic, fun facts about animals and memes encouraging people to neuter:Balls are meant for catching—neuter your pets. The Hart Veterinary Clinic also promoted a local shelter and featured a dog or cat that needed a new home on “Adoption Fridays.”

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