Page 28 of Legacy

I can practically feel her smile through her words as she continues to refuse to call me Legacy. What’s worse is the tightness in my ribs when I don’t really mind it.

For the first time in months, something stirs in my chest, and while I haven’t felt like flirting, much less fucking, I can’t deny the fact that this girl pushes every button and then some.

Which is why I need to shut it down.

Jesse: Dessert is fine. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.

I regret my clipped message the moment I hit send.

A breeze streams through the open bay, and I swear her sigh is floating across the city to remind me I’m an asshole. I’m always kind to Margaret, but I can’t seem to play nice with Reagan.

She opens up; I shut her out.

She plays nice; I go for the kill.

Reagan: Thanks.

One word.

No sweetness.

No irritating optimism.

It’s a good thing. That’s what I want.

Right?

I stare at her response longer than I should, knowing Reagan Brady is going to be a big fucking problem.

Because I don’t want one word from her; I want all of them.

Whether I deserve them or not.

8

Reagan

This was a badidea.

My fingers grip the steering wheel as I stare at the clubhouse in front of me, and I consider turning around and pretending I never had this idea in the first place.

Jesse warned me to stay in the neighborhood—far away from the antics of the clubhouse. Since he knows what happens here, I should probably listen.

Still, I find myself popping open the car door and climbing out. I tell myself it’s because he’s gone so much it’s easier not to rely on him, but there’s a hint of a challenge as my feet find the dirt. While he’s convinced I can’t handle his world, I want nothing more than to prove him wrong.

Besides, how bad could the clubhouse be in the middle of the afternoon? Just because there was a party in full swing the first time I was here doesn’t mean it’s like that all the time.

Tempe has mentioned bringing Austin here on occasion, and Bea makes her dad’s office sound like her own personal play space. It’s enough to give me the courage I need to sling my purse over my shoulder and close the car door behind me.

I’ve made my decision.

Bea needs her favorite doll, and with Jesse away doing who knows what, I’m the best person to get it. Margaret offered to come look for it in my place, but she barely has enough energy to spend time with Bea in the living room today, so I couldn’t ask that of her.

Craning my neck back, I look up at the clubhouse. It’s older than the houses in the neighborhood and probably the first building that was put on this land. I imagine these walls hold history.

Stories that would make me blush.

In daylight, I get a better look at the building than the first time I was here. It’s larger than it seemed in the dark. The siding is sun-bleached, and beer bottles scatter the railing that lines the front. Everything is well-worn and lived in—but solid.

---