Kip frowns, sitting up with me, one hand reaching out to touch me. I pull the sheets higher, covering myself, my eyes darting around the room for my clothes.
“Don’t do that,” he says softly, shaking his head. “Don’t look at me like you just made a mistake.”
I try to make my face change, to relax my breathing, to find the calm that I had last night but I can’t. Kip’s expression looks pained as he rolls to the other side of the bed, his feet hitting the floor. He runs his hands through his hair.
“Fuck, Skyler.”
“No, wait, just…” I lean up, relieved when I realize I’m wearing his shirt and I’m not naked like I thought. Slowly, I crawl over to Kip, tucking my hands under his arms to place them on his chest as I plant small kisses on his back. He stiffens at first, but each kiss unties the knots of tension just a little more. “I’m sorry. I don’t regret last night. I don’t.”
It’s true, I don’t regret it, but I still know that I should. Erin is one-hundred percent into Kip and falling faster than the first time and I had sex with him. Worse than that, it wasn’t a one-time thing. I knew it last night, Kip knew it, too – and we both know it right now.
Something changed last night.
The presidency aside, my relationship with all my sisters is at risk now. I broke girl code.
And I just wish I was sorry about it.
I pull away, sighing as I move to sit next to him. “I don’t know what to do,” I admit, glancing over at him.
He turns to me, worry still laden on his face as if he’s battling with his own guilt. Maybe he does care about Erin? Or maybe there’s something else behind those furrowed brows.
“If I told you I was an asshole, that I’m going to end up hurting you and this is all going to end just as fucked up as it started, would you hate me? Would you leave?”
I bite my lip, the bluntness of his words slamming into me like a club. If only he knows.
“Am I stupid if I tell you I don’t think it’s possible for me to hate you?”
He sighs, as if he knew I’d answer that way and it makes him hate himself even more.
I shrug, leaning down to look into his eyes again. “I already tried.”
His hand finds mine and for a few moments we just sit there, staring ahead and letting the rain pour down outside. Finally, Kip speaks again. “I’m going to call things off with Erin.”
I nod, feeling a mixture of guilt and relief. I don’t want him to be with Erin. “We still need to keep this a secret for a while,” I say, gently rubbing his fingers between mine. “I think after a while, Erin and my sisters and just everyone in general will be okay with us being together. But right now, it’s going to be too obvious. Erin would know we hooked up when you were together. She would hate me. Everyone would hate us.”
“I’m not with her, not the way you’re putting it, anyway. I’m going to make that clear to her, too,” Kip says quickly, turning to face me. “And why does it matter what everyone else thinks?” He’s saying the words like he wants us to be together now, but there’s still something in his eyes that tells me he’s not sure that’s what he wants, either.
“It’s not that easy, Kip. They’re my sisters and I’m in line to be the president next year. I can’t lead a sorority of girls who don’t trust me.” My eyes fall to the floor. “Plus, Erin is my Big. We’ve had some issues this year but I love her, I don’t want to hurt her.”
Her face flashes in my mind, the girl who convinced me to rush Kappa Kappa Beta, who held my hand and helped me change everything I wanted to change about myself. I went from nobody to one of the most popular girls on our campus. She was instrumental in that transformation.
And I’ve betrayed her.
Kip nods, sighing as he reaches out and pulls me into him. “I know, I’m sorry. You’re right. Laying low for a while is a good idea. I’m sure Adam would be pissed, too. You need to figure out what to say to him.”
I roll my eyes. “Ugh, I don’t know how he hasn’t gotten the clue yet. I’ve barely spoken to him. He texts me every minute of the day, it feels like.”
That’s been the most surprising part of this, how eager Adam has been to talk to me, to get inside my head. He’s been trying to get me to talk to him about what’s really going on since the dance. Not that I can blame him, after what I said, but he and I both know that we could never be more than friends again. We tried, and it just doesn’t work. Hooking up a few times? Sure. But past that, nothing exists.
I should have just told him I was drunk, that I didn’t mean what I said about still being into him. But with Erin breathing down my neck and watching every little piece of her puzzle closely, there was no way.
I had a part to play, and up until last night, I’d played it perfectly.
Best poker face in the game.
A smile curls on Kip’s face. “Is it bad that I kind of look forward to seeing his face when he realizes you’re with me?”
I nudge him playfully and he pulls me in tighter, laughing.
“Just saying, he thinks you played me to get him back. It’s going to be sweet revenge to prove that assumption incorrect.”
I roll my eyes again and Kip pulls me back onto the bed quickly, wrapping his arms around me. I laugh and push at his shoulders but give in too easily, not really wanting to get away from him in the first place. His smile fades slowly and his eyes search mine as he moves a strand of fallen hair from my face.
There’s a storm brewing in those blue eyes of his, but I can’t figure out if I should be afraid or excited for the rain to pour.
“Stay with me today,” he says, leaning up on one elbow.
I nod in response and he leans down again, pressing his lips to mine.
The rain sounds softer now, replaced by the internal buzz I feel when Kip kisses me. I’ve decided he’s one of those kissers who really takes his time. He runs his hands through my hair and moves his lips slowly against mine, his tongue sweeping in at the perfect time to cause my breath to catch. He touches my face, my neck, my lower back. When it’s natural, he catches my bottom lip between his teeth, tugging just enough to make my stomach flip.
Kip kisses me like I’m a goddess, like he’s lucky to even be near me, let alone with his lips on mine.
And with Kip, I feel like a goddess.
Beautiful.
Invincible.
Immortal.
But the truth is, I’m not a goddess. I can break. I know that, and yet I’m still here, wrapped in the arms of the one who could shatter me into pieces.
I guess I should start praying now.
“ARE YOU OKAY?”
I blink, those words oozing over me like sick, poisonous slime.
How many times have I been asked that, if I’m okay, like that’s the only way to be? To live? Do I not deserve to be happy, or elated, or glowing with indestructible joy?
The answer to that question, it appears, is no. I am forever destined to exist somewhere between okay and not okay, never surpassing, never able to exist in a state of being that surpasses that purgatory.
Okay, or not okay.
And right now, I am not okay.
Kip watches me, his brows furrowed, hands folded over mine between us. He just broke up with me — if you can even call it that, seeing as how according to him, we weren’t even truly dating.
Since when is making out, going to dinners, seeing movies, hanging out and talking for hours not dating? Since when is holding my hand and walking me home not dating? Since when is texting me all day, every day, not dating?
My nose flares as a new wave of anger washes over me, but I hear my mother’s cool, calm voice in my head.
Hold your power, baby girl.
I smile, though it’s weak on the inside. “I’m okay,” I lie. “And, I understand.”
“You do?”
I nod, clearing my throat and pulling my hands from his. “It was all a little fast. Maybe we can start over, go slower. Start as friends.”
; Kip nods, but his face folds, like he already knows there’s no way he’ll ever be with me. My stomach turns.
“Yeah, friends. I like that plan.”
I smile again, but it falls too quickly. “Well, I have to run. Panhellenic meeting soon. I’ll see you around? Spring Break is just a few days away.”
“Yeah, it’ll be fun,” Kip says, standing with me, but his brows are still pinched together in concern. “Thanks for being so cool about this, Erin. Are you sure you’re okay?”
That fucking word.
“Mm-hmm.” I pull my purse strap over one shoulder. “Bye, Kip.”
I don’t linger on his eyes, or his strong, square jaw as I turn and strut away from him, my kitten heels click-clacking across the tile floor of the coffee shop. He couldn’t even “not-break-up” with me in private. No, he had to do it at Cup O’ Joes, where everyone could see, where everyone could watch me do everything I can to hold it together when all I want is to fall apart.
If I broke, if I just gave in and slumped down into a pile of nothing on the floor, would anyone help me stand again? Would anyone pick up the pieces?
Clinton would.
The thought passes like a flash of lightning, strong and shocking and gone in an instant, leaving only the roll of thunder in its place. I swallow, shaking him from my thoughts as I make my way across campus, back to the sorority house.
“Okay, Erin,” I whisper to myself, holding my chin high. “New plan. That’s all you need, a new plan.”
I think over everything Kip said, how he told me things didn’t feel right, that he wasn’t interested, and he thought we should just be friends. I scour our text messages, our dates, looking for some sign I missed — but I come up empty. He’d seemed interested, touching me when we were in public, kissing me when we were alone, rubbing my shoulders and losing afternoons with me as we watched movies and caught up. He even listened to me talk about sorority drama, which I knew was torture for any guy.
So, then, what happened?
I chew my cheek, the methodical click and clack of my heels soothing my thoughts.
Maybe he’s just scared, freaked out by how much he’s feeling. I’ve heard of guys backing out for that reason more times than I can count. Maybe he likes me so much, he doesn’t know how to deal.
But when I round the corner onto Greek Row and see Skyler on the front lawn, I pause.
Of course.
I watch her throw back her head in a strong laugh, she and Jess soaking up sun rays on our front lawn. They clink their plastic tumblers together, sipping a light pink liquid, and I laugh out loud at my stupidity.
It’s her.
It has to be her.
All of a sudden, out of nowhere, Kip breaks up with me. And all of a sudden, out of nowhere, Skyler is back to her happy-go-lucky self after weeks of sulking.
Something happened.
I can’t believe I didn’t see it, can’t believe they were stupid enough to think I never would.
Skyler’s laugh reaches my ear, and I clench my fists, forcing a smile as I straighten my back and find my pace again. Kip mentioned something about him helping Skyler with a tournament on Friday night, and my bet is that is where something happened — where something changed.
I smirk.
They think this is over? They think I’m going to just lie down, roll over and forget any of this happened? That I’m just going to move on, and maybe one day they can date, and I’ll be just fine?
As if.
I’m Erin Xander, and I decided almost a year ago that for the rest of my life, I would take what I wanted — just as others had taken from me.
And I want Kip Jackson.
I’ll get him back. There’s no question, no doubt in my mind. They may think I’ve played all my cards, but I’m smarter than they give me credit for.
Kip loves me. He did when we were kids, and he still does now. Once Skyler is out of the way, he’ll realize that.
Now, I just have to sit and wait for the perfect time to play my ace.
Game on.
Legacy takes place during the same semester as Black Number Four. Whether you’ve read it before now or not, you’ll get a wider view of what was happening at Palm South University (especially between Kip and Skyler) if you read Black Number Four as you read this season. I will help guide you, letting you know which chapters to read before moving on to the next episode.
FOR THE FULL READING EXPERIENCE FOR THIS EPISODE, READ CHAPTERS 13-15 IN BLACK NUMBER FOUR BEFORE CONTINUING ON TO EPISODE FIVE. (You’ll get to see how Skyler was feeling when Erin was dating Kip, see inside Kip’s plan to win Skyler back, experience the “make up scene” between them from Skyler’s POV, and see the entire tournament from Kip’s POV… not to mention, relive that couch sex scene. Ow oww. ;) )
SPRING BREAK.
It’s the Holy Grail of college, the one week every student looks forward to. For seven, blissful days, there are no exams, no homework, no fraternity or sorority events, and, though I haven’t decided if it’s a good thing or not yet — no internships.
So, it’s no surprise to me that at the end of my last day in the office before break, I get called into Mr. Church’s office.
I made sure I was the last one to leave again today, knowing it would be my last chance to see Brandon before I left. I also made sure to wear a skirt that’s just a little too short, and a little too tight, and my hair up in a clip that I know he’s dying to unfasten so he can see my hair spill over my shoulders.
After our last weekend together, I’ve got him under my spell.
And he’s got me under his.
I tried to tell myself before that it was just our dynamite sex keeping us entwined, but after spending two days in his luxury downtown sky-rise condo, I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Brandon didn’t just fuck me and then kick me out the door. No, he made me breakfast, and took me out on his boat, and rubbed my feet after a long night of dancing in the VIP section of one of his favorite clubs. He drove me to pole practice Sunday evening, kissing me in the car where the tinted windows hid us before watching me leave, knowing we wouldn’t touch again for a while.
But this is what we signed up for, this cat and mouse game, this hiding in the shadows romance. For now, at least while I’m his intern, it’s the safest bet. Not that he would lose his career, but his reputation might suffer for a while if he were discovered. And me?
Well, I’d be fucked. As in, all up in the booty hole, no lube, kind of fucked.
That should be the loudest thought in my head as I walk quickly and purposefully across the office toward his door.
I should be thinking of someone catching us, of what would happen if we had to pull footage off these cameras for some reason, what I would do if everything I’ve worked for at Okay, Cool came crashing to the ground — all because of my sex life.
But I can’t.
All I can think about is his white dress shirt, top three buttons unfastened, sleeves rolled like they always are at the end of the day. All I can see is his dark, wicked eyes watching me as I ride him in his office chair. Slowly, step by step, the closer I get to his office, the more he overtakes every sense.
He’s poison dressed as a delicious apple, and I’m powerless to resist temptation.
I have to have a bite.
I smooth my skirt and brush my hair out of my face as I near his door, rapping my knuckles just twice on the frame when I reach it.
“Mr. Church?” I ask innocently, batting my lashes. “You wanted to see me?”
Brandon smirks, kicking back in his chair and letting his eyes roam me shamelessly.
“I did. Come in,” he commands, and that’s the way his voice always is — demanding, deep and powerful and impossible to disobey. “Have a seat.”
I do as he says, making a show of crossing my legs, one stiletto hanging between us as I fold my hands in my lap. Brandon eyes that heel, tracing the arch of it before his eyes flow all the way up my legs to my skirt.
Th
ey snap to my eyes next.
“I know you’ve been focused on Spring Break,” he says, “But it’s come to my attention that you’re past due on a very important task you were given.” Brandon pauses, his eyes growing dark. “You know I’m not a fan of missed deadlines.”
Immediately, I scan through everything I’d had on my to-do list for the week, knowing there was absolutely no way I left anything off. But as Brandon’s grin grows wider the more I pinch my brows together, I realize his accusation is part of the game.
He does love to play boss.
“Oh, my,” I breathe, feigning disappointment in myself. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Church. It’s just been such a busy week, I couldn’t get everything done. But I’ll make sure to handle it first thing on my return.”
Brandon rests his elbow on one arm rest, twirling a pen between his fingers as he watches me. “I’m afraid that won’t be enough, Ms. Daniels.”
Why does that work for me? Why does him using my last name, talking to me like I’m just the intern, and looking at me like a hot apple pie mix into the perfect concoction to get me wet? When we’re alone, in his apartment or on the boat, the way he makes love to me is reverent. It’s slow and romantic, calculated and pure, like a slow Sunday morning bang every single time.
But here? In his office? Or on his jet? He’s Mr. Church, and I’m Ms. Daniels — and we both know which one holds the power.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe again, biting my lower lip and leaning forward enough to show a hint of cleavage. I hold my eyes open wide, my head tilted down a little as I look up at him through my lashes. “Are you going to punish me, Mr. Church?”
When the word punish leaves my lips, Brandon’s eyelids flutter a bit, his nose flaring. And when I use his favorite name, the one that holds that power, he shakes his head, a lustrous gaze fixed hard on my mouth.
“I’m afraid I have no other choice.”
His hands shoot out, grabbing the armrests of my chair and tugging until my legs are between his. As soon as those hands move from the chair to my thighs, sliding up the sensitive skin to spread me open, I reach for the collar of his shirt and pull his mouth to mine.
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