Page 143 of Cruel Legacy

I furrow my brows, then the name slots into place. “Wait, what? You’re serious?”

“Yup. So, like I said, donating to the athletic department is all I care about. That’s what helps my dad. The school can recruit top-notch talent, win games and then he can recruit top-notch talent to his dynasty and win games, and fill stadium seats.”

“Why am I just finding out your dad is Roger Kincaid? Four rings, three teams, Roger Kincaid?”

He laughs again. “I kinda thought you knew the first day we met and were just pretending not to, so I’d make an effort. But then when I realized you actually had no clue who I was, I liked that you just wanted to be my friend. I swear I wasn’t keeping it from you. I get a lot of flack from the legacies at school, because of him.”

“He’s a legend. I don’t know why they’d bitch about that.”

“That’s exactly why. He’s a legend. His oldest son is carving a path as a coach, and here I am, the football god on campus. I get just as much attention as the legacies, and we both know how much they hate competition.”

“Aren’t the frat and sorority prank wars and games built on competition?”

“They are, but at some point, every organization needs something from a legacy. A favor. A job. A date. I don’t need anything from them. I can use any one of my father’s contacts for that.”

I raise my glass. “To not needing anything from them.”

Austin standing next to me, draws a crowd. Now people who I’m sure were actively avoiding me, walk over to talk to him. He makes a point of introducing me. I’m exhausted from saying hello and explaining that I’m new to town.

It looks like LJ has a break, so I slip away from Austin and his friends to rescue her, ignoring the stares I’m getting from the legacy side of the room. Funny, even at this party there’s a divisive line. I, for one, am happy I’m on Austin’s side of the snobby divide.

I’m almost to LJ when someone grabs my arm. “Where are you off to in such a hurry, Pet?” Finn smiles down at me. “Lemme guess, Kincaid has bored you to death with his football stats and now you’re off in search of more stimulating conversation.”

“If I were, this wouldn’t be a stop on my route.”

“Be honest, Pet. I’d be the only stop you need.” He pulls me into his arms and spins us around into a dance.

“There’s no music playing.”

“When you’re around, there’s always a song in my head. Most of the time, it’s the tune to Mission Impossible or jazz, but given our current surroundings, I think a little waltz is appropriate.”

Instead of pointing out we’re the only people dancing to his imaginary song, I let him spin me around. “You’re pretty graceful, Number Three.”

“Dancing is like sex. I’ve had lots of practice.”

“With the dancing or the sex?”

“Both. I’m happy to show you those moves, too. Just say the word.” His lips skim my ear. “Pleasesay the words.” There’s a desperate plea to his request.

Pax is staring at us, like always. “I don’t think your daddy’s gonna approvethatplaydate.”

“My dad? Who Pax?”

“Of course. Unless your real father is around here looking at me like I’m trash, too.”

He shakes his head. “He couldn’t make it, so he sent me, the younger, cooler, sexier Finn, in his place.”

I finger the collar of his suit jacket. He’s got the sexy part on lock tonight.

“I saw you checking me out when I came in, Pet.”

“You clean up nice, number three.”

“You know what else I do?”

“What?”

“I fuck, dirty.”

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