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I sat back. “You remember that necklace?”
“Yup.” He rubbed his hands down his pant legs. “Surprised you don’t. You never took it off.”
I hadn’t, and he remembered that.
Our history was so weird, and though it should have put me off the nickname’s origin, I was more in awe that he remembered any of that.
He studied my food. “You going to eat or…”
“Yeah.” I took a fry. He was right. I should treat myself on occasion, and my thoughts mulled over a different scenario. One where he had just talked to me back then, and our whole history had been different. Where he’d been this Thatcher, sweet and charismatic, and gotten me to loosen up and just eat some fucking fries. How different things could have been.
But it wasn’t, though. That wasn’t what had happened, and that fact became very apparent as suddenly we weren’t alone at our semi-private lunch. Thatcher tended to pick a table that was out of the fray of the student union. Between who I was outside of here and his Legacy status, we often got people approaching us. It never bothered me, but Thatcher always sighed before it happened. Like he just wanted to spend time with me, but that was probably in my head.
“Brilliant,” Thatcher gritted, his arm going behind my chair. It brushed my neck and distracted me a bit. He never did that or touched me, but suddenly, that was what he was doing as several people approached our table. They were people I definitely recognized.
I mean, one had chewed me out.
I was suddenly very uncomfortable upon seeing his friend Wells. The bottle-dyed blond was stalking his way over, a determined look in his eyes, and I found myself tucking under Thatcher’s arm. I played it off, of course. At least, I tried to when I flipped my hair, but Thatcher instantly drew a look down when I scooted. Suddenly, that arm hugging my chair was hugging me. It was discreet, but he hooked it around me more. It made me wonder if that was why his arm had hit the chair at all. Like a territorial measure.
A protective one.
That was probably in my head too, considering Thatcher appeared like he was forgetting more and more that I had a vagina and was, well, a woman, but at the present, I didn’t care why he was so close. I was just glad he was as Wells came over with his and Thatcher’s other friends. I recognized the one they’d called Wolf too. He had his arm around a curvy redhead with a lot of tattoos and a nose ring. She was gorgeous, just like the other girls in their group. One girl was standing close to the guy who wore combat boots the night I’d gotten yelled at. Combat Boots was hand in hand with that girl, so they must have been together too.
The last girl in their group was the only one I recognized, and as soon as their large party saw me, she waved. Thatcher’s sister, Rainbow, was super adorable and hella friendly. She didn’t intimidate me like her brother, but she was with a group of guys who certainly took up a lot of space. Outside of Wells, Wolf, and Combat Boots was another guy, and though he didn’t look nearly as serious as the other guys, he was fucking huge. He was big and broad like Thatcher. Not as big and broad, but still built like a linebacker.
He might have been. Thatcher played football, so he might too. I heard about how good Thatcher and his friends were on the field.
“Hey, Aspen!” Bow skipped ahead. She had a lunch tray, and the others had other forms of grub with them—drinks, wraps, fries, etc. The only one empty-handed was Wells, who had to navigate to his side when Bow pushed around him. He borderline sneered at her when she did it.
What the fuck was this dude’s problem? He obviously had one and hated my ass. That sneer definitely directed toward me after it left Bow who got to Thatcher and me first.
“Hey, Bow,” I said, and she beamed.
“You guys eating lunch?” she asked, her hair up in a tight bun.
“Uh, yeah.” Thatcher sat up, and though his arm navigated back to the chair a bit, it didn’t leave. Wells arrived behind Bow shortly after she did, and Thatcher tapped his fist. “Not much room at the table, though…”
“Don’t worry, bro. We can fix that.” Wells took the initiative and physically brought a table, connecting it to ours with a screech. It made half the student union look over and several of their friends cringe. Most likely from the sound. Wells sat backward on a chair. “There. All fixed.”
The two passed a glance between them, Thatcher’s terribly icy before looking at me. “You know Wells. And I swear he’s only an asshole ninety percent of the time.”
“Only ninety percent?” Wells whistled. “Must not be on my game lately.”
Thatcher visibly growled at him. Especially when Wells casually snatched one of our fries. I tipped a chin at him in greeting. “Hello.”
“Hi,” he returned, chewing. I was dismissed after that and certainly hadn’t gotten an apology for being yelled at.
I supposed I’d take the cold rather than more yelling, and by then, Thatcher’s other friends had come over. I assumed they were the rest of who was considered Legacy here on this campus. Thatcher and his friends were pretty influential around here, and I’d heard about that.
“You also know Wolf and Dorian,” Thatcher stated, introducing the guy with the long curly hair, then the one wearing the combat boots respectively. I had to say, Thatcher was pretty fucking gorgeous, but all his friends managed to hold up to his looks. The guys were Greek gods, even Wells who was grimacing sourly into the open air during the introductions. He obviously still didn’t want me around Thatcher, but I didn’t really understand why. I should be upset by what had happened that night. Not the other way around.
There was still confusion surrounding that night for me, but I didn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole. This was for my mental health because Thatcher and I were cool now. I actually liked spending time with him and didn’t want to self-sabotage over some confusion.
Dorian and Wolf were a lot more polite than Wells. I had to say, they’d kind of dismissed me that night things got crazy too, but today, Dorian shook my hand, and Wolf introduced me to his fiancée, Fawn. The girl had a rock on her finger the size of Texas, and after he introduced her, he looped his long arms around her waist.
“Hey, Aspen. I’m Sloane,” the girl standing next to Dorian said. She was tall and gorgeous and looked kind of like the girl version of Wolf. This made sense because in the next breath she said they were twins, and the last guy in their group (the really freaking big one), she introduced as their brother Bru.
Bru got his own greeting in, waving, and after he did, Dorian got his arms around Sloane’s hips in the same way Wolf had claimed Fawn. Dorian tipped his chin over her shoulder. “We don’t want to bug you guys. We were just passing through and looking for somewhere to sit.”
