I moan, dragging my nails down his back as he presses all the way in. Our bodies are sealed together in a seam, sweat slicking our movements as Kip withdraws and flexes, over and over, again and again. He plants kisses as I breathe and moan, his lips brushing my neck, my collarbone, the swell of my breasts. It’s all I can do to hold onto his biceps, feeling each rock of his hips like an earthquake of pleasure and powerful emotion.
And for the rest of the night, we make love. Like two virgins, discovering each other in a brand-new light, a brand new way. It’s my first time making love like this, and I know without a doubt that it’s his. I see it in the way his eyes search mine, in the gentle touches of his hands, in the soft melody of our breaths mixing together.
I laid my cards on the table, and I lost my heart in the bet.
It belongs to Kip Jackson now.
It belongs to him forever.
LAST TIME I WAS in Key West, Adam kissed me.
I close my eyes, feeling the salty ocean air breeze across my face as that night comes back in blinding color. I remember the way he looked at me before his lips met mine, that crease in his brows, like he knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t help himself. I remember the way we both exhaled, the way my stomach flipped, how my hands shook as I climbed to straddle him on that dark, secluded beach.
All we did was kiss.
But it wasn’t just kissing.
It was an exchange of souls, a trading of hearts. I gave him mine, and he handed me his, and even though things were complicated then — I was with Grayson, he’d just broken up with Skyler — we made a silent promise not to hurt each other.
And we both lied.
My eyes flutter open, and I sigh, leaning over the railing and letting my eyes drift lazily along the different vendors set up at Mallory Square below us. It’s the last day of our cruise, and we all spent the day frolicking on Duval Street before retreating to the boat just in time to push off from shore. I watch as the last few people board the ship, the door shutting, and the captain announces we’ll pull away in just ten short minutes.
There’s a party on the pool deck, and all of my sisters are down there making the most of their last night. They’re day drunk and happy, celebrating an incredible trip, and I should be with them.
But I can’t be.
I can’t fake a smile anymore, or shove another shot down my throat when everything I taste makes me want to vomit. The truth is, I can’t stop thinking about Adam, about last night, about what we said and what we didn’t say. Everything’s a mess.
First and foremost, me.
So, I snuck up to the very top deck, and while the party rages on just below me, I watch the coastline below, thinking of the last time I was in Key West and how I’d been just as much of a mess then.
Yet, somehow, I’d been happier.
Being with Adam, no matter how wrong it was, always made me happier.
I sigh, trailing one finger over the cool railing. Suddenly, there’s a loud clanking noise behind me, followed by a curse muttered under someone’s breath. I turn, one brow cocked as I take in Adam shuffling toward me, a giant, black duffle bag hanging from his shoulder. It hits his thigh, bouncing off awkwardly, and he curses again before dropping it to the deck when he’s standing a few feet away from me.
My instinct is to laugh, to smile and ask him what the hell he’s doing, but as soon as the thought passes my mind, my smile dies before it’s even born. His messy hair, his dark, intoxicating eyes — shadowed and dark, as if he hasn’t slept — they make me want to forget what happened. They make me want to throw my arms around him, kiss him, hold him, spend the night in his arms.
But I refuse to do any of that.
Instead, I cross my arms over my chest, leaning one hip against the railing as I face him.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he pants, running a flustered hand back through his hair as he eyes the duffle bag at his feet. He points to it like a curse. “Dragging this sonofabitch with me.”
I shift, glancing at the bag before I take in his haggard appearance again. Though I know it’s impossible, it almost feels like he’s lost muscle mass since yesterday, like he’s shrunk three inches, his entire body shriveling away before my very eyes. He hasn’t slept, that much I know.
He can join the club.
“I just needed some time to think,” I answer softly.
Adam swallows, nodding just once. “Good. I’m glad you’re up here, away from everyone.” He pauses, wringing his hands together. “Cassie, I am so sorry for hurting you. Again.”
I close my eyes on his words, pressing my fingers to my temple. “Adam…”
“No, please. Please,” he begs. “Just, I know you said I have to earn it. Earn you. And you’re right. Can you please just give me the next five minutes to try to do just that?” Adam’s shoulders fall. “Or at least, to try to start, anyway.”
I don’t nod, don’t give him a verbal agreement, but I also don’t turn away. I just fold my arms over my chest again, eyes falling to the bag at his feet before they settle on his tired eyes once more.
Adam sighs, his shoulders tugging back like he’s preparing to deliver a speech he’s practiced for years. His eyes level with mine, tender and soft, just like they always are when he looks at me. They’re like home, that familiar, comfortable peace that exists in no other place, in no other person.
Just him.
Always.
“Ever since we met, we’ve played games with each other’s hearts,” he starts, reaching into the bag at his feet. He pulls out the board game, Clue, and holds it between his hands. “At first, I didn’t have a clue how to handle what I felt for you.”
A smile threatens to break on my lips, but I cover it with my fingertips, trying with all my might not to let the fact that Adam is insanely adorable affect me.
“If I’m being honest,” he continues. “I think I did know, I think I always have. But, I was scared.”
He reaches into the bag again, this time pulling out the board game, Snakes and Ladders.
“Our entire relationship has been full of ups and downs. It seems like when I climb a ladder to reach you, you slide down into a pit of snakes.” He coughs. “Clay, Grayson.” He coughs again.
I smirk.
“And just when I slide down to you, just when our hands touch, it’s like you climb a ladder, and you’re out of reach again.” He pauses, shaking his head. “It’s like we’re always just out of reach.”
He drops the box, reaching in to pull out Chess, next.
“So, I try and try to set up a strategy, to put all the pieces in place. I convinced myself if I waited, if I let Grayson fuck up on his own, you’d be with me in the end. But I couldn’t stop myself from interfering. And even though, in time, he did end up proving that he was a douchebag,” he says, holding up one finger. “I shouldn’t have tried to rush that. I shouldn’t have been wishing for him to hurt you, Cassie, just because I wanted the chance to have you.”
My heart twists with the thought of Grayson, that wound still tender, still healing.
“As if that wasn’t bad enough,” he says, reaching in the bag for a little foam football. “When I finally had you, instead of being your teammate, I tried to be your coach, instead. I tried to tell you how to run your plays, how to live your life, how to find yourself — when, honestly, it was just because I was scared.”
I frown, tilting my head to one side.
“I was,” he repeats, nodding. “God, Cassie, I was petrified to be with you. To love you. Because I knew that somehow, some way, I’d fuck it all up and I’d lose you. Up until this point, I’ve never had the chance to make you mine — not truly. And the fact of the matter is that even though it’s all I’ve wanted since the very moment I met you, it’s also my biggest fear. To have you, really have you, and then lose you. For good.”
I roll my lips, fighting against the tears blurring my vision as Adam pours his heart out to me. It makes sense, that fear, because
I know I’ve had it, too. But the more he talks, the more he explains, the more my heart retreats.
“And I know,” he says, dropping the football and pulling a small, wooden bat out next. “That I haven’t just had three strikes. No, I’ve had three strikeouts. I haven’t lost just one at bat, I’ve lost an entire game.”
He rears back, holding the bat high above his head before slamming it down on the deck.
I jump, he screams, the bat staying fully in tact as he drops it to the deck and rubs his right wrist.
“Oh, my God, Adam, are you okay?”
I move toward him, but he holds up one hand to stop me, gritting through the pain.
“Stop,” he grunts. “I’m trying to grand gesture here, okay?”
I chuckle, shaking my head and leaning back against the rail to let him finish.
Adam shakes his head, cursing as he shoves the still-whole bat back into the bag. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m done playing games, Cassie. With your head, with your heart, with our relationship. I want to be with you. Really be with you — no matter what the risk, no matter what the odds, no matter what the future might hold.”
He’s shaking now as he bends to retrieve one last box, and he holds it up with a sad, hopeful smile.
“I don’t know everything. I don’t know if we’ll make it, or if you’ll change your mind, or if I’ll be a perfect boyfriend or fuck up time and time again.” He shrugs. “I can’t predict what will happen. All I do know is that I love you, Cassie McBee.”
I choke on a sob, the tears flooding my eyes and spilling over without a chance to hold them at bay.
“I love you,” he repeats, stepping forward, the game still between his hands. “And if we are stuck in the game of Life,” he says, tapping the box. “There’s no one else I want to play it with.”
Smiling, I cover my mouth with one hand, glancing at the box as he drops it at his feet and steps toward me. His hands reach for mine, both of us shaking, and when his thumbs smooth over the skin of my wrists, I sigh.
“I can’t take back anything that I’ve done, but I can tell you that I am sorry. And I can promise you that I will do everything I can to not be so fucking stupid anymore,” he says, and we both chuckle. “If you will give me the chance, I will love you like you deserve to be loved.”
More tears slip from my eyes as my head falls forward, and he meets me in the middle, our foreheads touching, eyes closing. Adam rubs my hands with his, pulling me closer, his arms slipping around me and pulling me into him.
And I want to stay.
I want to stay right here, in his arms, in the comfort of his words forever. I want to plant a flag, plant some roots, and settle down for life. Because in my heart I know that he’s it — he’s all I’ve ever wanted, and he’s everything that’s wrong and right and all that I desire. Adam Brooks is my soul mate.
But he’s my Kryptonite, too.
I reach around my back, unlacing his fingers and dropping them at his side before I step back. My heart aches in protest the moment we break contact, but I stamp that little sucker down, letting my head lead this time.
“I’m sorry, Adam,” I whisper.
I glance at him with the words, and immediately wish I hadn’t. The way his face breaks, the slump in his shoulders, the tremor of his hands as he reaches for me again, shake me to my very core. But I step back, away, swiping the new tears from my cheeks.
“I don’t believe you.”
Silence.
Not just between us, but in the entire world. It’s like with those four words, I stole time and space, created a vacuum that took everything away. There are no breaths, no sun setting off in the distance, no music playing below, nowhere to exist after this moment.
It’s all gone.
Adam’s eyes well, and I can’t even beg him not to cry, knowing it will break me, before one tear slides down his cheek, running the length of his jaw and falling to the deck below.
“You don’t mean that,” he croaks, shaking his head. “You don’t… you can’t…”
“I do,” I say, swallowing down a fresh wave of tears. “I’m sorry, Adam. I’m sorry. I just can’t do this anymore.”
The vacuum breaks, the noise crashes back in all at once, the sun sets in the distance, and I turn away from the boy I’ve always turned to.
Then, I run.
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 16-18 IN BLACK NUMBER FOUR BEFORE CONTINUING ON TO EPISODE SIX — THE FINALE. (You’ll get to see Skyler and Kip sneaking around in the library before Spring Break, witness the black number four roulette scene from Kip’s POV, get even closer with Kip and Skyler after the piano scene, see the break from Skyler’s POV and the apology from Kip’s, and find out what Kip’s plan is to handle the secrets he’s hiding, now that Skyler’s are all out in the open. DRAMA. ;) )
SEASON FINALE
“COME ON, MAN,” JEREMY says, kicking my foot where it hangs off the side of my bed. “You’ve got to stop moping.”
“Fuck off.”
He chuckles, sitting at the foot of my bed with a sigh. “Look, you pulled out all the stops and it didn’t work. So, you didn’t get the girl,” he says, shrugging. “I hate to tell you, but you’re not the only one in history for that to happen to. You’re not the first, and you definitely won’t be the last.”
“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” I ask, eyes glued to the ceiling. I’m still in the same flannel pants and white t-shirt that I changed into when we got home from the cruise. It’s a little more dingy yellow than white, now.
“It’s supposed to let you know that this won’t kill you.”
“I beg to differ.”
Jeremy sighs again, and I just let out another painful breath. That’s how every single breath has been since I watched Cassie run away from me on the top deck of that cruise ship.
I don’t believe you.
My chest shrinks again, as if the bones of my rib cage want nothing more than to puncture each one of my lungs and put me out of my misery.
“Have you tried talking to her?”
I shake my head.
“You should.”
“She ran away from me, Jeremy,” I say, not taking my gaze from the ceiling. “Ran. Like the thought of being around me for even a split second more would make her crawl out of her skin.”
“She’s scared.”
At that, I laugh, though the whole situation is anything but funny. “She should be. I’m an asshole. I’ve done nothing but hurt her when all I want is to make her happy.”
“You’re being such a chick.”
I don’t acknowledge that. There’s nothing more to say.
Jeremy punches my leg in a brotherly way, standing and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Alright, man. I’ll leave you alone. Just… try to take a shower before Chapter tomorrow night, okay?”
The door to my bedroom opens and closes, and then I’m alone — the way I’ll likely stay forever.
God, I really am pathetic.
But I can’t help it. I was barely putty in Cassie’s hands the day I went to her, putting my heart on the line — putting everything on the line. I was held together by bubble gum and hope, and she popped both.
I’ve gone through every emotion since that day.
At first, I was devastated. I cried. Cried. I’m a man, one raised by a grandfather who warned me that men don’t cry. And yet, I did. Then, once the sadness had faded, I got angry. How could she walk away from me, from us, when I apologized for everything? How could she just throw it all away?
Guilt came next, because I knew exactly why she could throw it all awa
y. I told her to listen to my actions, and then I let them speak loud and clear. In my mind, I was showing her my love, but in reality, I was only showing her time and time again that she was never the number-one priority in my life. Even though she was, I didn’t show it.
I wished I could go back, go back to the dance and not chase after Skyler. I wished I could take Cassie in my arms instead, twirl her around the dance floor, remind her I would always be there. I wished I could go back to the poker tournament, let Skyler go on her own, wait for Cassie and go to her and Skyler’s room together.
So many mistakes. So many moments I wish I could re-do. So many things I wish I could take back.
And after that guilt subsided, I landed in some sticky kind of acceptance. Except it wasn’t the healing kind. No, the kind of acceptance I found myself in was the kind that swallows you whole, that pulls you into a deep, tar-like darkness, its hands around your throat, suffocating you with your new reality.
I’ve laid here inside it ever since.
Right now, it’s still cold. It’s still dark and unfamiliar, like a reality that couldn’t possibly be mine. But over time, I imagine it’ll come to feel like home.
Over time, I imagine I’ll have to learn how to let her go.
My bedroom door opens again, and I sigh, closing my eyes on that painful exhale. “Jeremy, just drop it. Please. Let me wallow in peace.”
“Whatcha wallowing about?”
My eyes snap open at the sound of her voice, almost as if it’s a dream, as if I just realized I’m sleeping but now I’m half awake, wondering if I want to stay in the dream or shake myself to consciousness.
Slowly, I raise up onto my elbows, and when my eyes land on Cassie, my chest tightens, heart jumping to life at the sight of her.
Her ginger hair is piled into a curly, messy bun, a few tendrils framing her face in a haphazard manner as she folds her arms over her middle. Her eyes skate the floor before those emerald gems lock onto mine, and her brows bend, pink lips pulling to one side.
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