Princes of Legacy (Royals of Forsyth University, #9)

by Angel Lawson

“You’re not scary, you’re just protective. It’s sweet,” I decide, but then amend, “annoying, but sweet.”

I hold her there as I look into her eyes. “But it’s not with you.” “I love you too,” she says, repeating what I didn’t exactly say, but she understood anyway.

“I love you, Rosilocks Sinclaire.” Watching the force of my words sink in, the tears spilling over, I whisper, “So fucking much that every breath I take when you’re nearby feels like a thousand daggers to the heart.

This…” I rest my hand over the railing, “it’s just a bassinet, Wicker. A beautiful one that once cradled a beautiful towheaded baby who grew into the man I love.” He looks down at me, his blue eyes softening. “Maybe the garden is just a place for beautiful vines. And maybe this is just a bassinet,” I laugh, “which is something we still need, by the way.”

“To create,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her damp forehead, “is to reign.”

Wicker, the person most afraid of loving something, has been captured, hook, line, and sinker.

“That’s Sophia Lark,” I say. “She’s a graphic artist with a minor in visual. She’s definitely a creator.”