Sloane

 

My brother texted all through dinner again that night. It wasn’t like it was a thing, but no one else did it.

Maybe it wasn’t a thing because he did it.

I admit I was still trying to figure out the ways of the land around here, but texting in front of people was generally rude. Especially when we were all at dinner. Ramses and Brielle had gotten us new phones, and since then, that seemed to be all he was doing.

Picking at my food next to him, I allowed it. He’d been really withdrawn lately. Not really talking to me, and when I did see him, he was doing homework in his room. Of course, when I asked about this, all he claimed was that he wanted to actually move on with the rest of his class to his senior year. I did too with mine, but honestly, we hadn’t had to do much to catch up in school. Ramses and Brielle got us tutors on top of picking up our tuition.

“What do you think about that, Sloane? Sound fun?”

The entire dining room was looking at me, and that was a lot of people. Thatcher, Wells, and Bow had stayed after my epic fail in the backyard with Ares. The motherfucker couldn’t even give me one goddamn win and was arrogant as shit. He didn’t have to run backward when he got ahead of me.

“We were wondering what you felt about a gathering to meet the other families.” Brielle, the one who’d spoken, exchanged a glance with Ramses on her other side. He had her hand, giving it a kiss before Brielle tilted her head. “Knight and Greer and Royal and December you’ve of course met, but Wells’s family would like to meet you, and LJ and his wife Billie.”

I’d heard about them all, so many people in the Legacy bubble. Bow had explained to me LJ was in the parents’ friend circle as well.

“And I know you’ve met my mom and my stepdad James, but not officially in person.” Ramses looked at Brielle, his smile widening. “Brielle’s parents would like to fly in from Jersey as well.”

Because that was where they were from. Brielle was originally from there.

I was still trying to play catch-up in this life and with this Legacy family, but before I could speak, the couple fixed a warm gaze to the person on one of my sides.

“We’d like it to be a little bit of a birthday party as well,” Ramses continued. “For Bru?”

When his name called, my brother shot his head up.

Ramses chuckled. “We heard you had a birthday right before you moved here, and it’d be nice to celebrate that.”

My brother’s lips parted, mine too. Bru looked at me. “Yeah, but that was months ago.”

“Believe me. None of these folks need any reason to gather.” Ramses laughed, Brielle too beside him. He nodded. “But it’d be nice to celebrate you in all this too if you’d let us.”

That was so fucking nice, and I looked at Bru. “That okay?”

I hoped he’d say yes. I mean, he was a part of all this, but he really had been keeping to himself. I tried to pop in on him whenever I could, but he preferred his books to anything else.

Bru had all the attention at the table now, and the dark prince took my hand underneath it. At my other side, Dorian tipped his chin at Bru. “What do you think, bro?”

“Yeah. It’d be fun.” Ares put his hands together, grinning. “My grandparents are always asking about you when we talk. Sloane, yeah. But you too. They want to meet you, as well as everyone else. The Reeds, Ambroses, and the Johnsons.”

I’d asked him to look out for Bru, include him, and that was exactly what he was doing here.

Wells, Thatcher, and Bow all nodded after he said it, and I grinned while Bru sat dumbstruck. Bru put his phone down. “Okay. Yeah.” He faced me, more light than I’d seen in his eyes in weeks. “That okay with you? Meeting everyone?”

It definitely was okay, and only more so that it was okay with him.

 

*

 

Dorian dicked me down under silk sheets, his weight on my back, his cock tunneled deep. His hand around my throat, he silenced my moan when he squeezed. “You’re going to get us caught, little fighter, if you don’t cut that shit out.”

His throaty chuckle rumbled into my back, nothing like his weight pinning me down. Pretending I didn’t enjoy it, I flipped him off, and he laughed again, managing to keep it as low as the chuckle.

“Fuck you,” I bit out, and he grabbed my hand, biting it. He proceeded to roll his hips in quick succession, and I clamped my teeth down on his arm.

The roar that came next he didn’t keep silent… at least not completely. A gritted “Fuck” rolled from his cocky-ass mouth, and his hips slapped against my ass so hard I thought he was trying to spank me with them.

“Do that again, and you’ll feel me in your fucking throat,” he warned, jerking me to face him by the jaw. He grinned before sealing our lips, and I held his arm around me, rubbing my nipples against the bed while he fucked me senseless. I was seeing fucking stars at this point. Especially since the dark prince didn’t bother with condoms anymore.

Not after he found out he didn’t need them.

He must trust me because he didn’t even ask me for proof I was on birth control. He’d just taken my word for it. He wasn’t the guy he was before, and I wasn’t that same girl either.

Things were different with us, closer, and I felt near to him in ways I hadn’t felt before I’d left. It was hard to even be around him some days, our connection to the point where it completely unnerved me.

It rattled both of us.

We were like this all the time, fucking consumed with each other, and I had no idea where I fucking ended and he began. Truth be told, it was all as alarming as it was exhilarating, but I couldn’t stop.

I was addicted.

Our tongues flicked, dueling, and tangled as much as our bodies. Dorian laced our fingers as he smacked his hips repeatedly into my ass, and when I came, I saw fucking constellations. I bit his arm again, and he wasn’t far behind.

My muscles contracted around a pulsating cock, Dorian milking himself in and out of me. His eyes shut tight, he bit my arm and whatever strength I had left to hold him was gone. I flattened beneath his weight, and breathy, he pulled me on top of him.

“Come here,” he said, an arm under my ass, the other cradling my back. He kissed me once as if to say, “Good girl,” and I’d say something about that if I didn’t like it so fucking much.

Like I stated, addicted.

The dark prince held me there, steadfast as he massaged my ass and rubbed my lower lips against him. He didn’t stop until he had himself up and down against my clit, but if he was thinking what I thought he was, he needed to get his head freaking checked. Both of them.

I replaced my clit against his junk with my knee, and he cursed. I grinned. “You need to go back to your room.”

We hadn’t gotten caught yet, but I wasn’t trying to chance it, and the arrogant fuck he was threw an arm behind his head. He was golden, naked, and looking completely beautiful with just-fucked hair and a cocky expression. He eyed me. “It’s late. They’re in bed.”

He didn’t know that, and it was already bad enough we were living in sin under Ramses and Brielle’s roof. I mean, we’d been fucking for a while, but not under their roof. It was different doing this at their house, and he knew I didn’t like it.

“Fucking fine.” He kissed my nose, getting up and flashing me his muscled ass. I swear to God he’d thrown some of his clothes on the other side of the room just to fuck with me. He tugged his boxers on, then lifted his hands. “Happy?”

I’d be happy once he got his ass out of my room and back into his own bed. His shirt still on mine, I threw it at him, and he chuckled lightly before working it on like a guy. He had it all bunched up, and basically unrolled it over himself. The maneuver was pretty much as hot as it sounded, and after he got fully dressed, he ambled over and pounced on my bed.

His second move was to pounce on me, and I kicked at him. He didn’t get off until I stopped struggling enough to let him kiss me.

Which I did.

Every time, I did, our kisses slow, hot. They were heaven as much as hell because eventually they did end and he did have to go back to his room.

“Thanks for what you did today,” I said, not letting him go just yet. I wrapped my arms around him. “By chiming in with Bru.” He’d been the first to sound off at the dinner table tonight, and I appreciated it.

He shrugged. “Wasn’t a thing.”

He said that, but it was. I flicked fingers through his hair. “I’m just worried about him. He’s been real quiet and stuff. Texting a lot.” I had no idea who he was texting. His friends before we’d come back had been Legacy.

I suppose he could have gotten other friends at school, and I wouldn’t have blamed him anyway. He’d been forced into this bubble, but his place in it was definitely different from mine.

I just worry.

“We’re all keeping an eye on him,” he said, and my brow jumped. His eyes lifted. “We care about him, little fighter. Just like you.”

“Yeah, but it’s different.” He knew that.

He nodded, confirming that. He hugged his big arms around me. “He’ll be fine. I think he’s stronger than you’re letting him be.”

He might be right about that, but I couldn’t help myself.

I mean, he was my brother.

No one should get that more than Dorian, those connections tight, and they couldn’t be explained. Only felt.

I had a tie that was just as strong to Dorian but was obviously in a different way.

“Love you,” he said to me before going to bed, and though it overwhelmed me every time, scared me, I never hesitated to say it back.

“Fucking always,” I said to him back. He’d said that to me once, and it stuck.

I liked it.

I liked us way too much. I was past the phase of being attached. I was lost in him and us, and I didn’t want to get out. Loving Dorian Prinze openly was starting to get a lot easier, and that freaked me out just as much as the ease of saying that I loved him in the first place.

He always smiled after, making my heart fucking leap. We devoured each other’s mouths at my door before he finally ended up going back to his room, and I couldn’t sleep after all that. Dorian had said to me earlier today he was working through his own issues, things he wanted to say to me but couldn’t, and I had my own head shit. I was still trying to let go of the past and my fear about him. I was trying not to be scared of him.

But that was hard too.

We’d had a lot of shitty things happen to us and things where he’d hurt me. I was trying to forget and let go, but the subconscious was a son of a bitch. It wanted to protect itself, protect me.

Yeah, this was hard.

I knew we’d never be able to get to where we actually could be until I let go. I mean, how could we?

I needed a strong drink since I couldn’t sleep but settled on a milk in Ramses and Brielle’s kitchen. I knew my way around the house pretty well these days, so when I came across Ramses’s home studio with the light on, I found it curious. It was late, and he was never in there.

This was something I knew for a fact and had long before I’d come to live here. Wells had stated Ramses didn’t use his studio anymore. At least, not lately. Actually, Ares had been using it.

I almost expected to find Ares in there, but when I popped my head inside, that wasn’t who I saw. Ramses was in there.

He sat at an easel.

Stroking across canvas with a long brush, he stopped once he noticed he had company. His eyes warmed. “Not making too much noise, am I?”

He wasn’t at all, of course, and when he started painting again, I wagered he didn’t mind he had an audience. I came inside and was also curious about what he was painting.

A sunset. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The rays opened up to the heavens on his canvas, rich skies of gold and amber. I knew he was an artist. That was where Ares’s got it from.

And you too.

It was kind of hard not to see the similarities on the daily, in this house and in this life. Ramses and Brielle were still giving me space, time, but they didn’t have to do much to make me feel like I fit in here. We all just had such similar interests. Ramses and Brielle were runners too, and though I clearly didn’t have that gene, it might be something I could get into.

Apparently, I had the genetics.

“This is so cool,” I said, and he smiled. I looked at him. “I thought you were more into metal pieces, though.”

His studio was filled with sculptures, and he noticed me looking at them.

“Usually, yeah.” His brush glided along the canvas, full and sweeping. He was so good at skies, and I found that crazy since Ares and I liked to paint the sky too, the world and the universe. He shrugged. “My mind is just taking me here these days. It’s hard to fight it when inspiration comes.”

He smiled after he said it, and it seemed a lot of inspiration had hit him. He had new pieces all over the room, more sunsets. More skies. None of these things had been here the first time I’d been in here.

I wonder what changed.

Wells had alluded that Ramses had some kind of block that had kept him from creating new work in here. He’d said life had gotten in the way.

I sipped my milk. I had my own life changes, my own struggles that had gotten in the way. Things, at least these days, were feeling more like Ramses’s skies. The sun was bright, the world better.

“So, my godson’s parents have been missing him,” Ramses continued, painting. “Was thinking about suggesting to them Dorian spend more time over there. More specifically, in the evenings and at home in his own space for the night.”

I froze, clenching around my milk.

“So he will be doing that, I think.” Ramses nodded, his strokes not missing a beat. “Going home each night and being in his own space.”

Oh my fucking God.

“And don’t worry. I’ll talk to him about that,” Ramses said, a smile in his voice when he wheeled back on his stool from the canvas. “Love my godkid. Adore him, but he’ll know all about that. Like I said, his parents have been missing him anyway.”

I didn’t know what to say. “I…”

“Mmm.” Ramses waved a hand, this conversation clearly as awkward for him as it was for me. “Like I said, I’ll handle it, but when he does come back, we should probably all have a talk. We can keep Royal and December out of this, and whatever rules they establish at their house Brielle and I will leave them to figure out.” He faced me. “But here, we all will have an understanding. I’m not dumb. I know you kids are eighteen and almost on your way out, but yeah…”

He didn’t have to go on, and I waved my hands.

He seemed relieved by this, wheeling back to the painting. This was definitely as awkward for him as it was for me, and I totally wasn’t used to having parents around. I mean, I hadn’t really.

It was different. It was awkward but in a weird way, it was kind of nice.

Mostly because it was normal.

Ramses continued to paint for a while, and I watched him in silence. He knew I enjoyed art as well. It came up quite a bit at the dinner table, and of course, Ramses and Brielle knew I’d helped Ares with his senior project. Ramses had even come by the school to see it, which had been cool. He was actually really prolific in the art community, and that was something that had definitely come up while in my previous seclusion.

I’d researched all about him before I’d met him, Brielle too. I just wanted to know them, but with all my searches, all my facts, it could only give me a snapshot. Knowing them was actually getting to know them and being with them. They were these awkward normal moments.

They were painted sunsets and amber skies.

“Uh, before I forget,” Ramses paused, wheeling back. He used a long reach to grab something from his desk, and when he came back, he gave me an envelope.

I nearly dropped it upon seeing what was inside.

“Bocelli tickets?” I gasped, and Ramses chuckled. I pulled them out. “Are these real?”

“Very much so, yeah.” Ramses cocked his head. “We’re hosting him at one of our Chicago galleries.”

I knew Ramses had a few, but this was fucking Bocelli. The dude was like the Van Gogh of this century, and people just didn’t get tickets to things like this. I pulled a veil of hair out of my face. “These are like auction only, right?”

And had to cost him like a million dollars. Tickets to see Bocelli’s work were always done through auction, and the artist always donated the proceeds to local art programs. Whatever city he happened to show at actually.

Ramses chuckled. “Technically, but since we’re showing him…” Ramses opened his hands. “You can take them off my hands then? I tried to offer one to Ares, but he’s not a fan.”

He was being nice about that. I smirked. “He thinks his work is pretentious.”

Actually, there weren’t many artists Ares seemed to actually like outside of his own father’s work. He talked shit about pretty much anyone I brought up that I said I liked, Bocelli being one of them.

“Yeah. I guess I was trying to be nice.” Ramses scratched his neck. “Anyway, they’re yours. Maybe ask Dorian. He probably wouldn’t mind going.”

I knew he wouldn’t. He’d actually taken me to see art before. One of Ramses’s local galleries actually.

Ramses swirled his brush around in more paint before rolling up to the canvas again.

“Would you be busy?” I asked, surprising, well, myself. I shook the tickets. “I mean, I guess I just thought it’d be fun. Dorian wouldn’t mind going, but you know, since you’re into all this stuff too.” This stuff? Really, Sloane? “I just mean if you’re not busy.”

I didn’t know why I was nervous about asking him. I guess I worried he thought it’d be weird or something.

But when he smiled, I wondered why.

“That’d be very nice,” he said, and when I gave him the tickets back, he placed them on the table that held his paints. “And you’re right. It would be fun, and I’m honored you asked me.”

I wanted to get to know him more, and I knew he wanted to get to know me. Like his wife, I was well aware how much the two were still walking around on eggshells with me.

It seemed this was a step in the right direction, and when I left Ramses that night, I couldn’t help but notice the air around him was different since I’d arrived. He was sunsets and lit skies now like his paintings, and no longer just a man trying to hold his family together.

I wondered if that was what had changed.

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