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I let it slide at the time. It’s hard for someone who has such huge goals in life to understand that I just want to be happy. That meant doing something that made me happy, not getting stuck in some rat race and hoping for change later in life.

I didn’t want to be an attorney like my dad or a corporate executive like my mother. They’re miserable in their lives. Despite a lot of that having to do with Vaughn’s death, they never find joy in anything.

“Have a safe trip,” I tell her.

“Let me know what you decide,” she says, ending the call a second later.

“If only I can figure that out for myself,” I mutter into the empty room.

Chapter 4

Legacy

“What about strippers?” Stormy asks, a wide smile on his face.

“Not really my thing,” I say, incapable of not smiling at how excited he seems about the idea. “But now I know what you’d like for your birthday.”

“That new place down on main opened up a few weeks ago,” Stormy says, still stuck on the stripper idea.

“Got shut down on their second day open,” Boomer says.

“Underaged girls,” his boyfriend Drake says, scrunching his nose in disgust.

“Gross,” Stormy says, and I mumble my agreement. “So no strippers. What do you want?”

“Is being left the hell alone an option?” I ask.

“Come on, man,” Stormy grumbles. “Birthdays are awesome.”

It’s mostly true. I had eighteen great birthdays, but Vaughn died on my nineteenth. I’ve avoided that day as much as possible since. They don’t know that, however, and I have no intention of opening that can of worms.

I shared some of my history with Bishop, but I haven’t spoken to these other guys about it. Those confessions came during a “whose life is worse” conversation with the guy who got drugged by a serial killer and lost five years of his memories. By the time we were both done complaining about our lives, we still couldn’t decide who had the shittier end of the stick.

“The party is fine,” I say when he makes it clear he’s not going to leave it alone.

“The club party?” Stormy looks disgusted once again. “Everyone will be at those. We can’t really celebrate the right way in front of kids.”

“I think,” I begin, wanting to change the subject, “that the bulletin board is a stupid idea.”

“Let my wife hear you say that,” Kincaid says as he enters the kitchen. “Emmalyn worked hard on that.”

“She just wants everyone to stay up to date on what’s going on in the clubhouse,” Boomer says in Em’s defense.

“Nothing against Em,” I say quickly.

I don’t exactly oppose the bulletin board, but the fact that everyone now knows when my birthday is, is because she posts all the important dates there. They have no idea of knowing that the date is a trigger for me. Besides, it’s been eleven years. Vaughn’s death should have a duller edge to it than it does, shouldn’t it?

“We can head to Jake’s and drink a few beers,” I offer.

“Find some hot chicks,” Stormy adds, his face showing a little more joy now that I’ve offered a better solution than a club party. “Maybe score with someone interested in a threesome.”

Kincaid chuckles from across the room. I have no doubt the man was a tomcat when he was younger, but he’s a hundred and fifty percent dedicated to his wife now.

“I’m not interested in a threesome,” I mutter, immediately rejecting the idea.

“You’ve never had one?” Stormy asks, a challenge in his voice. He snaps his fingers as if he just came up with the best idea ever. “I know exactly what to get you.”

“I don’t want a threesome for my birthday,” I say. It seems like he’s filled in between the lines I’ve drawn, and I don’t want to end up in a seriously awkward situation. “Stormy!”

He doesn’t turn back around in his rush to leave the room.

“I swear if he brings two girls to my room,” I mutter.

Drake chuckles, drawing my attention to him.

“What?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think he was considering two girls for you.”

I tilt my head, it taking a little too long for me to figure out that he meant Stormy has it in his mind that we would share a woman.

“Not a fucking chance,” I snap. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Drake says. “Everyone has their own things they’re into.”

“I’m not into group sex,” I clarify, making the man laugh once again.

“It’s not for everyone,” Tug says as he enters the room with half of his triad, Max.

“That’s my niece you’re talking about,” Kincaid says, but there’s still a playfulness to his tone. “Meeting in two hours for room assignments.”

“I can’t believe how okay he is with what you guys get up to,” I say when Max takes a seat across from me.

“Don’t yuck my yum, man,” our IT specialist says, a wide grin on his face as he looks past me to Tug.

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