Page 6 of Epilogue Legacy

But, instead of handing it to him, I went to the register.

He frowned. “What are you doing?”

I showed him the giant balance owed sticker on the piece, and he rolled his eyes.

“Bro, you know I’m good for it.”

I did, and that was even without his football money. He played professionally like me, but he also had family money like me.

My friend also knew this was a business, which was why I had family money.

Chuckling, Thatcher handed me his credit card. I ran it, then gave him the piece.

“Thank you so much. I owe you,” he said. “You didn’t look at it, did you?”

“No, I didn’t look at it.”

“Good.”

He was being fucking weird, but that was Thatcher Reed.

I led us both out of the store, and, as I was locking up, Thatcher lingered.

“So, let’s say I did mess up. If that’s the case, what’s the perfect thing to say to Aspen to make up for it?” he asked.

I smirked. I figured he did something, considering how much he spent.

Thatcher’s throat moved. “You’re better with words than I am.”

I was. I finished locking up, then came over to him. “It’s not about the words. Let your heart do the speaking and the rest will come into place.”

Thatcher smiled a little.

I put my arm around him. “But you won’t be speaking at all if you ever call me this late again. I will literally cut out your fucking tongue and feed it to you.”

I patted his chest for emphasis, and he rolled his eyes. I started to walk off, and he waved at me.

“Thanks, D.”

I flipped him off, hearing him laugh behind me. I was missing the warm heat in my bed, but I did eventually wave back at my friend. I genuinely hoped he worked out whatever was going on. He and Aspen were perfect for each other, and she brought out the best in him.

Our girls brought out the best in all of us.

Sloane

Thatcher was acting… weird. He asked to use my audiovisual equipment, but that was only after waking Dorian up in the middle of the night to get into his dad’s jewelry store. Thatcher said the AV stuff was for a project for Aspen, and it was an emergency.

I let him into my studio downtown. I had one here in Maywood Heights, even though Dorian and I lived on the coast.

I gave Thatcher my camera and some other things he asked for. “Thanks, Sloane,” he said. Then he shrugged. “I had no idea Aspen was going to be flying in so early this morning.”

He said he wanted to shoot something for her and didn’t have much time. I eyed him. “This better not be to shoot porn for her.”

Thatcher blanched. “What? No,” he said, but then rubbed his neck. “I mean, is that an option?”

I shoved his big ass. No, that wasn’t an option, and if that was what was going on here, I was going to take my stuff right the fuck back. That was just gross. Like, beyond gross. I didn’t care what he did in his spare time, but he wasn’t going to use my stuff for it.

“I’m just kidding. Jesus,” he said, his grin wiry. I offered to help him take everything outside to his car, but he refused. He was being all macho; that was just how these boys were.