“Yes,” she says, circling the lid of her tumbler with her index finger.
“The sex is good, you like hanging out, he makes you laugh… right?”
She nods.
“Well,” I continue with a shrug. “Then, maybe instead of trying to distract yourself from Jarrett with him, you actually try to let yourself date him — like, for real. I mean, have you guys talked about that at all?”
“We haven’t. And it’s weird because I thought we were just kind of hook-up buddies or whatever, but we talk every day. He calls me all the time, and we hang out almost every night. He talks to me about his internship, about his family. He’s really been letting me in.”
“And have you done the same?”
At that, Jess frowns. “No. To tell you the truth, I’m a little scared.”
Cassie glances over at us, like that statement resonates with her, but she doesn’t say a word. She’s been just as quiet as Skyler since the dance on Friday, and we had to drag them both out today. She watches us for a moment before watching the water again, sitting in content silence with Skyler.
“It’s okay to be scared,” Ashlei says, the wind blowing her hair over her shades before it whips it back again. “Dating is scary. I mean, seriously, is there anything more terrifying than showing someone your heart and just hoping they’ll stick around after they see the crazy shit inside it?”
We’re all quiet at that.
Jess sighs after a moment. “He did ask me to go see a movie this week, one of the new superhero ones.”
“Sounds date-ish,” I assess. “You should go.”
She nods, chewing her cheek as if she’s giving herself a pep talk in her head. “Okay. I’ll go. Why shouldn’t I try to move on?” She pauses. “I mean, it clearly didn’t take Jarrett long to.”
Ashlei squeezes Jess’s knee, and I just take a sip of my drink. Sometimes, there are no words to cool the sting of betrayal, especially from someone you loved as much as Jess loved Jarrett.
I reapply my tanning oil as Ashlei changes the subject, filling us in on the terror of a coworker she’s interning with this semester. I’m forming my advice for her in my head, ready to relay some of what my mom taught me over the years, but everything washes away when a shadow crosses over us and we all turn to find the source.
Kip.
In nothing but a pair of red, white, and blue board shorts and his reflective aviators, I have a hard time not letting my jaw drop the way the rest of the girls did. His hair is mussed, being continually tussled by the wind, and he tucks his hands in his pockets easily as a cocky grin spreads over his face.
“Afternoon, ladies.”
I swallow, the act strained against the lump forming in my throat. I trace the sexy stubble on his jaw, let my eyes crawl over the tan skin stretched over his abdomen muscles, and when my eyes find his again, I smile.
“Well, hello there, handsome,” I say, hope blooming in my chest as I hold up one hand to shield the sun streaming in from behind him. I shouldn’t have hope so easily, shouldn’t assume anything. He could be here for Skyler. He could ask her if they can talk.
But I can’t help it, because though those things might be a possibility, his eyes are locked on me right now.
Me.
Not Skyler.
And my fractured heart can’t help but hold onto that.
“You girls need a drink?” he asks, thumbing over his shoulder to where his brothers are set up down the beach. “We’ve got a cooler up by the volleyball net.”
“We’re all set, thanks,” Jess says quickly, but I don’t take my eyes off Kip.
And he can’t seem to take his eyes off me.
He smiles. “Well, if you run out, you know where to find us.” He glances at Jess when he says that, but then his focus is right back on me. “Erin, are you free tonight?”
My heart leaps up into my throat, thumping an unsteady rhythm somewhere right under my tongue as I try not to squeal out loud.
“I was thinking maybe we could catch up. I haven’t really had a chance to talk to you since I got here, and before that it had been at least two years since we had a conversation. What do you think? Wanna grab a bottle of Jack and reminisce on the good ol’ days of harvest?”
That hope that had popped its head up before jumps out completely now, filling my chest with a new, lighter breath. I wonder if I have literal hearts in my eyes, and I’m thankful for the sunglasses covering them — just in case.
Holy shit. It worked. The plan actually worked.
“You bring the bottle and I’ll make my grandma’s famous sandwiches,” I say, focusing on keeping my breaths steady. “They’ll be the perfect ingredients to travel back in time.”
Kip nods, a smirk curving up the right side of his beautiful lips. “I can hardly wait. Pick you up at seven?”
Seven!
I need to shower. I need to do my hair. I need to pick up new lipstick. Oh my God, what will I wear?
“It’s a date,” I say, my mind racing with everything I need to get done. It’s still circling and circling as Kip holds up his hand in a slight wave, turning his back on us without another word to rejoin his brothers.
Oh. My. God.
I turn toward the girls, finally letting my mouth pop open. “Did that just happen?!”
Ashlei and Jess smile, Jess nodding as she removes her sunglasses and gazes down the beach where Kip just walked. “Uh, yeah. Holy shit.”
“I can’t believe it! It worked, girls. It actually worked!”
Cassie is still watching the waves, but she forces a smile, glancing over at me quickly before returning her gaze. “Congrats, G-Big. Mission accomplished.”
I shake my head, mouth still open as I try to process it. “I can’t believe it actually worked. And I couldn’t have done any of this without you, Little,” I say, tears springing in my eyes as I turn to face her. I take my sunglasses off, letting my emotion show. “I mean that. I know this was so hard, and that you had to do something that made you really uncomfortable. But I…” Words fail me, and I laugh, still shaking my head. “I can’t ever tell you how much this means to me, how much I needed this. Thank you, Skyler. Thank you.”
Ashlei squeezes my forearm as Jess smiles in my direction, and even Cassie gives me a little quirk of her lips, though she still seems lost in her own world.
Skyler just watches me for a moment, and I wonder if her eyes are on me or on where Kip just walked behind me.
“Of course,” she says after a moment, her voice soft. She clears her throat, smiling for the first time since Friday. “It was hard, but it’s over now. And you got what you wanted all along. I’m so happy for you.”
I search for a hint of sarcasm, but find nothing. Skyler seems genuine, her smile true, her eyes kind as she takes off her own shades.
“Thank you.”
She smiles a little wider, holding up her empty cup with a rattle of the ice. “I’m going to go refill. Be right back.”
“I’ll come, too,” Jess says, popping up with her.
When they’re gone, Ashlei and I talk excitedly about what I should wear, and my mind runs wild with possibilities of what the night might hold. Will we talk all night, reminiscing about old times? Will he tell me all about his life since I left, about how he missed me after that summer, about how he’s thought about me so much since then? Will I tell him about the times I called, when I never said a word, or will I keep that to myself? Will he hold me and tell me everything’s okay, that he’s here now, that he’s back in my life for good?
Oh God, will he kiss me?
I cover my mouth with one hand at that, touching my lips with my fingertips and not even fighting against my smile.
I’m going on a date with Kip Jackson.
I never thought I’d ever get to say those words again, let alone say them and they be true.
But I am.
And finally, after a year of suffering, a year of nothing but regret and painful reminders of all the scars PSU
has given me, I see a soft light at the end of the long, dark tunnel.
Happiness.
And it’s finally within reach.
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 9-12 IN BLACK NUMBER FOUR BEFORE CONTINUING ON TO EPISODE FOUR. (You’ll get to see Kip’s rage at the bonfire, get in Skyler’s head the morning she and Erin talk, be there for the gift Kip gives Skyler before the dance, and experience the break up from Kip’s point of view. You’ll also get inside information on what Kip’s “plan” is after the dance, and how Erin is involved.)
THE LAST TIME I went on an actual date, I was raped.
It’s a blunt and sad truth, but a truth, nonetheless.
The last time I got dressed up for a boy, with the intention of having a good time and possibly growing in a relationship with him, he betrayed me in the absolute worst way — and changed my life forever.
When I put on my lipstick tonight, I could still feel how it had smeared across my jaw that night, when Landon’s hand covered my mouth, forcing me to hold in screams that wouldn’t come, anyway. When I slipped into my heels, I remembered how much the balls of my feet had hurt as they bent me over the table, thighs digging into the corners, their hands pinning me in place.
Those were memories I would never shake, nightmares I would never escape.
But tonight, almost a year later, I’m finally trying again. I’m finally putting on the lipstick, and the heels, and the smile — believing for the first time since that night that my heart may be able to bloom again, that those walls might be able to open.
I’m on a date — a real date — with a boy I know I can trust.
It’s such a foreign feeling, walking with my arm looped in Kip’s as we make our way toward the small paint store. It’s our third time hanging out this week, though this is technically our first date. On Sunday night, after the day at the beach, we just hung out at his apartment, catching up, eating my grandmother’s famous sandwiches while Kip sipped on whiskey. I listened to him recount the years we’d lost between us, and he seemed to hang on my every word as I caught him up on my life. It was nothing special — no fancy restaurants or expensive entertainment — just a boy and a girl laughing and existing together.
I walked home on cloud nine that night, head floaty and stomach flipping as I replayed every look, every word, every single moment. And when he texted me, asking to see me again, I clutched my phone to my chest like a love-sick teenager. Since then, we’ve texted all day and all night, every day since Sunday.
In some ways, reconnecting with Kip over the last few days has felt like no time has passed at all, like we’re still those same kids spending the summer together and falling in love. But, in other ways, it feels like we’re strangers now — like we’ve only scratched the surface of everything we need to know about one another.
I love that part the most.
The thought of re-discovering Kip excites me — and I can’t remember the last time something truly made me giddy with hope and joy the way being with him does. It’s a little naïve, I realize, as I tighten my grip on his arm. But isn’t that where love is born — somewhere between hope, happiness, and blind trust?
I decide not to overthink it — for once in my life — and focus, instead, on how his hard bicep feels under my arms as we reach the door of the art boutique. There are canvases displayed along the windows, showing local talent as well as group party projects — the paintings of everything from hot air balloons and palm tree beach scenes to abstract shapes and realistic self-portraits. I smile a little, eyes roaming the mini masterpieces as Kip covers my small hand with his when we reach the door.
“Are you sure you’re okay with getting a little messy?” he asks, eyeing my outfit again.
I knew pairing high, sexy heels with my bright pink, business casual shorts was a risk. I had no idea what we were doing, but the girls all assured me I looked hot, and I figured it was dressy, yet casual enough, to pass for whatever we did.
“I’m sure,” I say, leaning into him a bit with the word. “I’ve never done this before. Have you?”
“Nope. It’ll be a first for both of us.” He grins, holding the door open to usher me inside first. “After you.”
For a moment, I just stand there, staring at the boy holding the door for me. Maybe it’s him that’s the real masterpiece, here. Dressed simply in a dark pair of jeans, a black, v-neck t-shirt, and a backward white-on-white ball cap, he looks confident, sexy, and cool. Add in his classic, black-framed glasses and the little grin he’s giving me as he waits for me to step over the threshold, and it’s all I can do to not float away.
He’s the same boy I fell for, and yet so much more — like a sketch that painted itself in my absence, showing me the colors I never would have thought to paint it with.
I wonder if he can paint me to life, too.
There are a few other couples already seated in the studio when we walk in, and a bright, cheery woman greets us before the door even shuts behind Kip.
“Hi! Welcome to The Fuzzy Canvas! I’m Regina,” she says, waving at us with one paint-covered hand. Her hair is a bright auburn, her cheeks speckled with freckles and her eyes wide, endless pools of green. She reminds me a little of Ms. Frizzle off The Magic School Bus, her hair wild and smile a little too big. “Take a seat wherever you’d like, and go ahead and put on an apron. We have a few others joining us and then we’ll get started.”
Kip and I thank her before taking the back corner seats, and as I tie a paint-splattered apron around my waist, watching Kip do the same, I smile.
“I’m really excited,” I say. “Thank you for asking me out tonight.”
“Of course,” he answers easily. “It’s been nice reconnecting this week.”
“It really has been,” I agree, taking my seat first. Regina brings us each a full glass of red wine, but I slide mine behind my canvas and out of sight. “You know, I wasn’t sure how you would feel about me… after the way everything went down.”
“What do you mean?”
I shrug. “I just, I know I didn’t handle our break-up in the most graceful way. I was young, Kip — jealous, insecure. And you were the first boy I loved. It was just… I was a mess.”
“Hey,” he says quickly, taking the seat next to me and pulling my hands into his. He levels his aqua eyes with mine, crooked smirk falling on his lips. “We were both young, and I’m sure there are things we both wish we had said, or done, or maybe not have said or done,” he adds and we both laugh a little. “But, the past is the past. Tonight, we’re older, we’re a little wiser, and,” he says, holding his glass up. “We can drink. Legally. So, let’s cheers to that.”
I smile, reaching for my glass behind the canvas. I tap it to his, but instead of taking a drink when he does, I place it back in its original place.”
“Not a red wine fan?” Kip asks, one brow quirked as he sets his own glass down.
“I don’t really drink.”
“At all?” He presses his lips together, digesting that. “Huh. Don’t take this the wrong way, but that’s kind of impressive — especially considering you’re in a sorority.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, well, I used to drink, but I learned the hard way how alcohol can impair judgment and get you caught up in situations you don’t want to be in.”
Kip watches me curiously when those words slip out, and suddenly his eyes are too much for me to handle. I drop my gaze to the floor, shaking my head and turning toward my canvas.
“Anyway, speaking of Greek life, how do you like being an official brother of Alpha Sigma?”
Kip lets me change the subject, and the co
nversation flows like that all night — back and forth, the two of us swapping stories in-between taking painting instructions from Regina. We’re working on painting a beautiful sunset scene, contrasted by the silhouette of a tree in the foreground. When we’re finished and push the canvases together, our two tree shapes will make a heart, and the birds we painted on the limbs will join each other, too.
“This is fun,” I say when we’re almost finished, painting a little bow on my bird’s head. “I needed it.”
Kip sighs, his chest deflating long and slow as he drags his fat brush over his sunset, deepening the reds in his sky. “Tell me about it.”
“Rough week for you, too, huh?”
He shrugs, eyes still on the canvas. “Rough semester, honestly.”
Swallowing, I dip my paint brush into our jar of water, rinsing it off as my heart ticks up speed. “That have anything to do with Skyler?”
Kip’s hand stills over the canvas, his jaw clenching, but he doesn’t answer. Instead, he makes a broader swoop with his brush, pressing a little too hard and creasing the canvas as he works.
“It’s okay,” I assure him, wiping my hands on my apron. “We can talk about it, about her, if you want. I know that must have been hard.”
My stomach rolls at the reminder of what I put him through — of what I put Skyler through. Now that it’s all over, I should feel better about it all. I should feel like I’ve won. I mean, here I am, on a date with Kip, reliving old memories and making new ones, too. Still, I can’t help but feel like there’s a curtain between us, like he’s putting on some kind of performance, not letting me in completely.
I know how hard that can be to do after you’ve been hurt.
“Nothing to talk about,” Kip says, his words curt. “We weren’t official or anything. She’s into Adam, I guess. It’s whatever.”
His words sound blasé, but the way his brush strokes grow more aggressive give him away.
“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.
Legacy_A New Adult College Romance Page 21
