Page 17 of Forging Legacy

I extend an arm to get the three of us in the photo. No way am I asking Fern to take it. I smile, tight-lipped, and hand the guy his phone back, barely acknowledging them as they walk off.

“Wow,” Fern says, chewing on another bite of sandwich. I scowl. “You really don’t like getting approached by fans, do you?”

“Was it obvious?”

She laughs.

I shake my head and spear a bite of chicken. I chew, swallow, and reach for my water. As I do, my hand brushes Fern’s as she reaches for her water at the same time. I stare down at the place where our skin touches, feeling searing jolts of electricity run through me. It’s like a pinched nerve but in a really good way.

In a moment of impulse, I lose all sense of … well, sense, and I lean forward, reaching for Fern, like I’m going to pull her face close to me and kiss her right here in the restaurant. For the briefest moment, I think she’s going to reciprocate, but she pulls back and starts shaking her head. She stiffens.

“Wyatt,” she whispers. “We can’t do that. You can’t do that. I’m your TA, and we need to have boundaries.”

I nod. “I’m sorry,” I tell her, and I’m about to say a whole lot more when my phone rings. It’s the loud, brassy ring I assigned to Brian, my agent. I sigh. “I’m sorry,” I repeat, gesturing at the phone in my hand.

She nods and takes another bite of the her sandwich. I stare at her eating as I accept the call. Brian doesn’t even wait to be greeted; he just launches into news of a potential contract offer from a team in Mexico. I know Fern can hear him. I know everyone in the deli can hear him.

Fern takes one more bite of the sandwich and shrugs her arms back into her coat. I hold a hand over the phone. “You don’t have to go,” I say quietly.

She shakes her head and places a palm on my shoulder. I feel the warmth again, the sizzle, but I know her intention is not to encourage that type of energy. “You should talk to your agent. Thank you so much for the food, Wyatt. I’ll see you in class.”

She makes her way out of the crowded restaurant as Brian rattles on and on about the money we’re going to earn together, about the suntan I’ll get in Guadalajara. I can’t manage to rustle up excitement for this opportunity, especially knowing I’m no closer than I was before to sorting out my legal name. I barely pay attention as Brian talks through his plan to woo the team. Despite the heavy odor of fried food and grilled meat, I still imagine I can smell Fern and her snow-dusted hair.

My mind reels from the disappointment of not kissing her, from the opportunity I might have to let slip away, from all of it. Eventually, I toss a bunch of money on the table and walk out, making my way home where at least my cousins can distract me with their carefree nonsense.

Chapter14

Fern

My heart racesas I rush from the restaurant in search of Thora. I make a beeline for Fuel Up and sure enough, she’s behind the bar washing glasses, getting ready for happy hour. She glances up when the bell rings above the door as I enter, and I must look frightened because she dashes over to me and wraps me in a hug.

“What the hell happened?” She brushes my hair back from my face and studies me like she’s looking for bruises. I don’t need to tell her they’re all internal.

I take a deep breath and blurt, “I went to lunch with Wyatt, and he tried to kiss me, and I panicked.”

She laughs and shakes her head, clutching at her chest. “Fern. I thought something actually bad happened to you. Jesus.” Thora walks back to the bar, slapping a towel over one shoulder and continuing to shake her head.

I follow and slide my butt into a stool, my mind racing. The thought of Wyatt's lips on mine sends surges of heat through my veins, but the fear of the consequences of kissing a student is like a bucket of cold water, shocking me back to reality. “I’m serious, Thora. This could be really bad.”

She squints at me, considering. “But you like him?”

I groan. “I really do. He makes me feel …” I try to verbalize the connection I feel to him, but I just shrug. “He’s just great.”

Thora winks. “Doesn’t hurt that he’s fly as hell and probably has an ass you could bounce darts off of.”

I press my palms to the bar and squish my face. “I can’t stop thinking about him. Not just the physical stuff. All of it.”

Thora sighs. "I get it. He's hot, and you two have chemistry, and it sounds like he’s a sexy, moody orgasm vending machine."

I wince. “That’s all true and accurate. But …”

Thora's eyes soften. “I know it's not just about the physical stuff, Fern, and that you’re focused on what's at stake here. Your career, your dreams. But you also deserve to have fun and feel good.”

I sniff. “I hoped you’d tell me to be careful and that I’ve worked too hard to risk it all for a guy.”

Thora grabs a clean glass and starts polishing it with the towel, winking. “Not my style.” The familiar clink of glasses and hum of conversation fill the air as more patrons trickle in. The bell above the door tinkles again and a group of students makes their way toward the televisions along the back wall, showing pro hockey and basketball games. Thora raises her brows. “That’s my cue to get pouring. You going to be okay?”

I flap a hand at her. “Yeah. I just needed to vent about it.”

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