Legacy: A New Adult College Romance (Palm South University Book 4)

by Kandi Steiner

  “Besides, her being out of the way leaves more time for me and you, doesn’t it?”

  He glances sideways at me then, his smirk sexy, eyes low, and my cheeks flame at his insinuation. For a split second, my heart feels whole again — my soul reconnected to my body — and before I even realize I’m thinking it, two words slip out in an almost-silent whisper.

  “Fix me.”

  I balk when the words hang between us — both mortified that I spoke them out loud and confused as to why I thought them at all.

  Kip frowns. “What?”

  Clearing my throat, I pick a small brush back up, fixing the little leaves on my tree. “Nothing, just realized I didn’t do these very well.”

  Kip looks at my tree. “I think it’s perfect. And, look,” he says, sliding his canvas over to mine. Our little trees align, making the heart complete, and our birds join each other at the bottom point. “We make a pretty good team.”

  “We do, don’t we?” I ask.

  Our noses are so close, his lips near enough to mine that I feel every hot breath he takes. I lean in, just a little, hoping he’ll kiss me — hoping he’ll seal in this happiness with his lips and never let that hole in my heart be empty again. His eyes flick to my lips, the irises dancing back and forth before they find my gaze again.

  “Oh, this is beautiful!” Regina says, popping up between us.

  Kip straightens, clearing his throat as he drops his paint brush in the water jar and smiles up at her. “Thank you. We had a great teacher.”

  “Oh, aren’t you sweet!” she giggles the word, swatting at his shoulder with a wide, blushing smile before moving on to the next couple.

  I glare at her as she passes, the moment gone, Kip’s mouth too far away from mine now.

  Kip holds my hand on the cab ride home, and just like a gentleman, he walks me to the door at the sorority house as a gaggle of my sisters stare at us out the various windows. But, he doesn’t move to kiss me before he leaves, pulling me in for a long hug, instead.

  “Thank you,” I whisper into his chest. “For tonight. It was perfect.”

  “I’m glad you had fun,” he says, pulling back with a grin. “I’ll text you when I get home?”

  I nod, biting my lip. “Please do.”

  He goes to pull away, but I hold his hand, tugging him back. When his eyes meet mine, I push past my nerves and lean in, pressing my lips to his before I have the chance to psyche myself out.

  Kip stiffens, the kiss not really returned at first. But then, his lips soften, and his hands move up my arms, one sliding behind my neck as the other cradles my cheek. The kiss is soft, sweet, nothing too passionate or earth-shattering. But it’s nice.

  And it’s a kiss I asked for, one I wanted.

  When he pulls away, Kip smirks, nudging my chin with his knuckle gently. “Goodnight, Ex.”

  “‘Night,” I whisper back, my voice light and airy as I watch him trot down the steps of our front porch.

  I’m not sure how long I stand there, or what I say to all the girls waiting inside when I finally make my way in. I’m not sure of anything, really, except how good it feels to kick my heels off and flop down into the plush comforter of my bed. When my back hits it, my eyes on the ceiling, a smile splits my face in two, my stomach light and giddy.

  And it’s then that I realize why I asked him to fix me.

  It’s because I know he can.

  THIS SON-OF-A-BITCH.

  This crooked-dick, turtle-loving, lying son-of-a-bitch.

  Swiping another handful of nuts out of the bar bowl, I crunch them a little too aggressively, staring across Ralph’s at Greg. Every time he laughs, flashing that ridiculously beautiful smile of his, I imagine what he’d look like if I slammed his face into the bar and he lost a few of those pretty teeth.

  It may be borderline psycho bitch how long I’ve been here, at the other end of the bar, angrily eating bar nuts and drinking my beer and wondering when this son-of-a-bitch is going to look up and realize that the girl he bailed on is at the same place he is. This guy owes me a drink and a mind-blowing orgasm after leaving me with a serious case of the lady blue balls last week, and that was all supposed to be rectified tonight.

  Except, he was “sick,” and had to bail last minute.

  I check for signs of illness as he pounds back another shot with a group of his fraternity brothers. He doesn’t look sweaty, or clammy, and by the way he’s drinking, I’d say there’s no chance in hell that he has a stomachache. Nope, this son-of-a-bitch looks healthy as can be, and he also looks like he’s not the least bit bothered that he lied to me less than an hour ago, or that he’s left my vulva a throbbing violet for over a week now.

  Bastard.

  For the past five minutes, I’ve been trying to convince myself that it isn’t worth saying anything. So what, he blew me off? Point taken. He’s not interested. No big deal, moving forward, on to the next poor guy.

  But for some reason, I can’t let it go.

  Maybe it’s because I haven’t been bailed on since I sprouted boobs sophomore year of high school, or maybe it’s because I’m particularly sensitive after being dumped by Jarett, or hell — maybe it’s just because I’m three days away from being visited by the crimson tide. Regardless, I can’t seem to find the common sense or couth to keep my ass planted or get up only long enough to get the hell out of this bar.

  Nope, instead, I swallow down a few more nuts, slam back the rest of my beer, and storm toward the group of Omega Chis.

  They’re all crowded together around a high-top table, playing various drinking games, and I have to shove a few of the smaller ones aside to reach Greg. When I do, I thrust my finger into his shoulder with a hard poke, hanging my hands on my hips as he turns around to face me.

  His eyebrows are bent together at first, as if he doesn’t realize who I am, and then he smiles, dimple and all. “Oh, hey, Jess.”

  Oh, hey, Jess?

  This son-of-a-bitch.

  “Didn’t realize they had doctors at Ralph’s now,” I deadpan. “Looks like they work fast, too, because you don’t seem sick at all. It’s a miracle!”

  I throw my hands up at that last part, not even bothering to hide my flair for the dramatic. Greg’s brothers all watch me before giving each other wide-eyed looks. They go back to drinking their beers, albeit a bit uncomfortably, as Greg crosses his arms over his chest.

  “What’s your deal?”

  “What’s my deal?” I repeat incredulously. “We were supposed to go out tonight. We had a date. You literally told me less than an hour ago that you were sick, and then I find you here drinking like a frat boy.”

  “I am a frat boy.”

  I narrow my eyes.

  “I don’t get what the big deal is. I had a change of plans.”

  “You lied to me, asshole.”

  “And?” he asks, like I don’t have a point. “Like you’ve never lied to get out of a date with a dude before? Come on, J-Love. I know about your reputation.”

  At that, a few of his brothers let out low oooohs and my jaw pops open. I clamp it shut quickly, face heating with rage.

  Two can play this game, buddy.

  “Oh, you’ve heard about my reputation, huh? Well, I wish I would have heard about yours. If I’d have known you have a dick that leans west and doesn’t get the job done, I could have saved myself the trouble.”

  Greg’s eyes widen, his hand reaching out to wrap around my wrist and drag me away from the table as his brothers burst into a fit of laughter. They’re still cracking jokes when Greg pulls me into the corner near the DJ booth, his expression cold as stone.

  “Not cool.”

  “Yeah? Well, neither is you bailing on me. What the fuck, Greg? You should have just told me you had other plans.”

  “Why are you acting like you’re my girlfriend?”

  His question stops me short, and I open my mouth to pop back at him but nothing leaves my lips.

  “We met when you had a boyfri
end, Jess,” he says, twisting the knife more. “And we’ve never had that talk. Yeah, we hooked up a few times, we’ve had some fun, but honestly, I thought we were just friends.” He shrugs. “Look, I’m sorry I lied to you about tonight or whatever, but I don’t owe you anything, and I don’t expect anything from you, either.”

  “We text every day,” I finally say, though I know the argument is weak before I even give it. “And we talk about shit. And bang. How are we not in a relationship status where you at least owe me the truth if you bail on me?”

  “That’s not what I’m looking for,” Greg says easily. “I thought it was a kind of see ya when I see ya thing. I have fun with you, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t want a relationship.” He cocks one brow, lips pulling to the side. “And from the sounds of it, you shouldn’t be in one — at least, not right now.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Let’s just cut the shit. I was a distraction for you, which I was fine with, since I’m not looking for anything, anyway. But somewhere along the way, you started lying to yourself, saying I was what you wanted when you know that’s not true. We have fun, but we’re not relationship material.”

  I swallow, crossing my arms.

  “And you’re not over Jarrett.”

  He says the words so easily, like they won’t hit me like rusty scissors straight to the heart.

  “Which is fine,” he continues. “I’m not saying you all of a sudden should be. But, take the time to figure that shit out. If you did, I think you’d realize how crazy you’re acting right now.”

  My nostrils flare, fists clenching as I open my mouth to show this son-of-a-bitch just how crazy I can be, but he holds up his hands quickly to calm me.

  “I didn’t mean that disrespectfully, okay? You’re a cool girl, and that’s the only reason I used that verbiage, because I know that if the real you — the you I met here last Thanksgiving — was here, she’d tell you the same thing. You’re not yourself right now.”

  “Are you telling me to eat a fucking Snickers bar?”

  He laughs, reaching out to pull me into a hug. I’m still stiff in his arms, my own crossed over my chest, but as he chuckles again, I soften.

  “Just take a breath, okay?”

  I sigh, groaning as I lean into him a little more. For a moment, he just holds me, and when he lets me go, my desire to punch him in the groin has decreased by at least forty percent.

  “You’re still a dick,” I say, pointing at him with my index finger. “But, you’re not entirely wrong. We never had any kind of talk about what we expected out of each other, and I shouldn’t have assumed.”

  “You shouldn’t have, but I also shouldn’t have lied. So, for that, I’m sorry.”

  I nod, still grumpy as I wave him off. “Go take shots and be a frat boy.”

  Greg gives me another hug and ruffles my hair like a stupid older brother before he rejoins his brothers, and I pay my tab quietly, mood sinking by the second. When I’m finally in a cab heading back toward the sorority house, I sigh, staring out the window and digesting Greg’s words.

  That son-of-a-bitch was right.

  And I hate it.

  Thumbing through the pictures my phone, I hover over one of me and Jarrett, taken in bed at the hotel he booked when he came to visit last semester. I trace the lines of his smile, the stubble on his jaw, the ink splayed across his bicep where he cradles his head on the pillow. And then there’s me — my smile genuine and wide, my eyes tired but sated. I miss that girl.

  I miss that boy even more.

  I click the side button on my phone when we pull up to the house, making the screen go dark as I pay the driver and climb out of the car. My mind is still racing as I climb the stairs, crawling into my bed as quietly as I can so as not to wake Skyler.

  I thought using Greg as a distraction would help, that it would be part of my healing, but the truth is I wasn’t using him to distract me — I was trying to use him to replace Jarrett.

  And that’s impossible to do.

  I need to move on — really move on — and that starts with focusing on me.

  So, starting tomorrow, that’s exactly what I plan to do.

  I CAN’T HELP BUT chuckle as Skyler barrels toward me, her entire face covered by a scarf wrapped at least eight times from her neck to her ears. Her arms are crossed tight, brows furrowed as I swing the door to the cafeteria open when she reaches me.

  “Gah!” she huffs, still bouncing and rubbing her hands together once she’s inside. “How is it that it was seventy-six degrees yesterday, and then this morning, it’s forty-eight?! I can’t handle this.”

  I take my spot in line behind her, savoring the smell of bacon as we shuffle along behind the other students. It’s been a while since we’ve met for breakfast in the old university cafeteria, but I haven’t spent one-on-one time with Skyler since the semester started, and this was the only time we could both make work this week.

  “Psh, Floridian. You wouldn’t last ten minutes in a Pennsylvania winter,” I tease.

  She sticks her tongue out at me, swiping a plate from the stack before handing one back to me. “You’re damn right I wouldn’t. Who wants to live in Pennsylvania, anyway?”

  At that, I laugh. “Hell if I know. I got out of there as soon as I turned eighteen,” I point out. And while it wasn’t necessarily because of the weather, it is true that I couldn’t wait to leave that state. Still, thinking about my little brother living back there makes me miss it. I wish I could be there for him while he grows up. But, he has Mac and his family. I’m grateful for that.

  “My point, exactly.” Skyler smiles, popping a blueberry muffin onto her tray before we split up, making our way down the buffet line.

  Once our plates are piled high with more breakfast than either of us can actually eat, we settle into a small table by the window facing the library. I watch Skyler take her first bite — mostly because I can tell she hasn’t been eating. Or sleeping, from the looks of it. Something has been off about her all semester, and after the shit show I heard happened at the Alpha Sigma dance, I knew she needed some Bear time.

  Maybe a hug or two, too.

  “So, how are you?” I ask once she’s devoured half of her muffin. I keep my eyes on my plate, building a sandwich out of my eggs, bacon, and toast. “I’m still kind of pissed that we haven’t hung out since Rush week.”

  Skyler cringes. “I know, I suck and I’m sorry. But I’m good. Counting down the days to Spring Break.” She picks at the wrapper of her muffin, her long, dark hair falling in a curtain around her face. She’s trying to force a smile — one she should know won’t fool me. “You?”

  “Cut the shit, Sky.”

  Her eyes grow wide, brows bending together like she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

  “I know what happened Friday night… everyone on Greek Row is talking about it. So, are you going to tell me how you are — for real — or am I going to have to tickle it out of you?”

  She smiles, making a joke about the last time I tickled her, which ended with her pissing herself. It was hilarious. And though the smile she wears now is smaller than her fake one — at least it’s real.

  Skyler chews her lip, and I just take a bite of my sandwich, giving her time to think through what she wants to say.

  “Bear, honestly, I’m okay,” she says on a sigh, picking at her muffin wrapper again. “I’m not good and I’m not bad, I’m just okay. That’s all I can really say right now. I love you, and I know you’re here for me, but I just really don’t want to talk about it.”

  I’ve heard those words before.

  A flash of Erin comes to mind, but I push her away, focusing on Skyler.

  “I got involved in something I never should have agreed to, and now I’m paying for it,” she continues, a slight shrug finding her shoulders. “It’s my fault, so it would be stupid to ask for sympathy from anyone. Even you.”

  My chest squeezes, my next breath a sort of si
gh as I lean back in my seat and force a smile. Skyler is my best friend, and hearing that she’s hurting and feels like nothing can be done about it kills me — especially since she does everything she can to help her friends when they’re in the same position.

  Me included.

  “I’m sorry, Sky,” I say after a beat. “I don’t know what you got yourself into, but I know you don’t look like someone who just blew off a guy after using him to get back at an ex,” I say, repeating what I heard happened at the dance with Adam and Kip. “You look like someone who was on the other end of the break-up, actually.”

  She shrugs, her eyes empty. “Well, there’s a lot behind the situation that nobody knows.”

  The way her shoulders slump, the gloss of her eyes, the pain creasing her every feature — it’s enough to make me want to convince her to skip school and just let me hold her all day.

  Because she’s lying, and we both know it.

  “You like him, don’t you?”

  She closes her eyes, forcing a swallow.

  “All that shit about Adam was bull crap. I know you, and you were over Adam the week after you broke things off.”

  Skyler crosses her arms over her chest, sinking down in her seat. “Yeah,” she whispers. “I do like him.”

  I sigh. The transfer didn’t seem like a big deal to me — hell, I didn’t want him in Omega Chi at all. But, after getting to know him at some of the Greek events, I can see why Skyler is into him. He’s cool, a good balance of both nerd and jock that we don’t see around PSU very much. And, from what I could tell, he was treating Skyler like she should be treated. He liked her — a lot.

  So, if she liked him, too, then what the hell is going on?

  “But it doesn’t matter,” Skyler continues, answering my question. “Because Ex is into him and they have a past. And now they’re talking, which was what she wanted from the start. So, whatever, my part is done, I guess.”

  I cock a brow, everything clicking into place as she talks.

  “So, you were playing him for your Big?” I ask. “Shit, I should have known.”

  Erin is desperate for something — anything — to make her feel happy again. It doesn’t surprise me that she would go for a guy from her past, one who made her feel good. And using Skyler? That’s a no-brainer. The girl plays poker for a living. If anyone is going to be a part of an Erin scheme and pull it off, it’s her.