Dirty Wicked Prince (Court Legacy 1)

“Sloane?” he asked, nearly laughing where he stood. He was obviously shocked. “What are you doing…”

“I owe her a meal, buddy, for saving my sis.” Thatcher tapped Bru’s fist. “Pick up a chair and sit on the end. You had Jax’s food before?”

So this was my brother’s first time here at their meeting spot.

Interesting.

I cataloged this in my mind as my brother did pull up a chair and something else I remembered. That tool with the knife had said it’d been Dorian and the rest of the guys to kick him off the team. They’d done that for a spot for my brother. Now, this could have just been because of Dorian and his hate for me, though.

I assumed as much.

Anyway, I watched on as they all greeted him, welcomed him. Even Dorian smiled at him.

“Good to see you here,” Bru said to me, sitting on the back of a chair. He stole one of my fries. “It’s nice to each lunch together.”

I silently agreed, but playfully shoved him to let him know I did. I’d missed my brother, and I guess I could put up with a lunch for him.

It was nice chatting with Bow too, and she made sure to talk my ear off. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t missed her.

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t missed people.

Chapter Twenty-One

Sloane

I didn’t get another invite out to lunch with Legacy. This wasn’t surprising, but what had followed that impromptu lunch date was.

I got free food.

Every day at lunch, Thatcher would drop off a sack. Sometimes it’d be from Jax’s Burgers. Other times not, but he always made sure to drop something off. Sometimes the drop-offs even included his company, and when it did, Wells tended to join him. The two seemed to move as a unit like Ares and Dorian, and suddenly, I found myself with free food every day at lunch. I never asked for this food, nor did I want it.

I got it anyway.

It seemed Thatcher felt he had a debt to pay, and it extended well past that first lunch. On days he either couldn’t make it or didn’t make it, Wells entertained me with his company. He’d give me the same food, mentioning Thatcher had a previous engagement. Wells always made sure to wink at me when he said that, and I assumed Thatcher was probably off getting some afternoon delight somewhere. Thatcher was known as a huge ladies’ man around the school. Wells too, and I found out he was bisexual. I’d assumed as much. Thatcher never brought his dates to our lunch, but Wells always did. Sometimes he’d have two or three of his groupies, his followers feeding him food while I rolled my eyes from the other side of the table. The days Wells did appear were the most awkward, but not because of who he brought. Bow too had returned to eating lunch with me, and whenever just Wells and his groupies arrived, it put her off. She’d clam up and get all silent, which was the exact opposite of the little rabbit.

I asked her once what the deal was, but she got all shy about it and passed it off. Her cheeks grew incredibly warm, though, and considering Wells typically had his tongue shoved down the throat of one of his minions, I understood why. I forgot sometimes she was just a sophomore, and after I did see he was bothering her, I asked him to tone down some of the PDA.

“Sure thing, Pretty, Pretty Princess,” Wells said to me, something both him and Thatcher had started to call me. I’d take it over Vapor and Legacy bitch any day. Hell, I’d take my name back.

That came the following week.

The Legacy effect was something else. People definitely took note of Thatcher Reed’s and Wells Ambrose’s sudden attention. They made known their gifts of food and attention, and with that came people actually looking me in the face again. I got greetings from people I hadn’t seen the eyes of in weeks.

And teachers actually called on me again.

That last bit I could have done without. I mean, I wasn’t a brain like my brother. I wasn’t always prepared to answer questions in class, but it was nice that I existed again. The little “gifts” in the form of pranks deposited inside my locker also stopped, and I found my little brother without his attitude in the mornings. He was smiling at me again. He was acknowledging me, and though I definitely thought he’d been an asshole to me in the time we’d been here, I did know my place in our feud. I promised I’d make things easier for us, and I definitely hadn’t done that by starting a war with the boss dog clique. I’d gotten myself in a mess and him by association, and I completely acknowledged that. I also hadn’t told him a lot of things that had been done to me.

Again, something I acknowledged.

Those dark days seemed to be long in the past as the days continued on. The leaves on the trees started to shift and change, the breeze sharper as Maywood Heights hinted at a change in the seasons. We were still well away from winter. Thank God. Chicago didn’t play when it came to Midwestern winters, but I did have to wear a jacket sometimes with my academy uniform. I also stopped wearing knee-highs and shifted to trousers. Girls were allowed to wear them when the colder weather hit.

I was grateful the day I fell.

I tripped on a floorboard literally in the middle of the hall. Had I been wearing a skirt, my lady bits would have been all over the place. My feet left from under me and everything, and I might have hit the floor if not for a set of strong hands.

And a solid chest.

Dark brown irises came with it, those big arms and firm hands bracing me close. The dark prince had caught me like a football on the field, quick and agile.