Page 75 of The Ruthless Rivalry

Sly narrows his eyes at me. “Yeah, but if you keep ignoring basic stuff like eating, we’re going to have a problem. You can’t design your way out of that.”

Before I can think of a sharp comeback, Cam claps his hands together, a bit too eagerly. It’s the kind of quick change in topic I recognize all too well. “Okay, guys. I’m starving after all that laughter at your brother’s expense.”

I notice the shift in his tone—the way he suddenly jumps to food to avoid the subject—and I catch a quick glance from Sly, who seems to pick up on it too. Neither of us says anything to correct him, though. We let it slide, the moment passed in the wake of Cam’s interruption.

Sly mock-glares at Cam, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Keep it up, and I might just have to challenge you to a rematch.”

“In your current state?” I chuckle, standing up and stretching. “I don’t think that’s wise, brother dear.”

As we’re about to leave the dining hall, a girl from a nearby table approaches, her gaze flicking over our small group before she awkwardly makes her way toward me. She holds out a small folded piece of paper, her voice deliberately casual.

“Hey, can you give this to Bishop for me?” she asks, her tone almost too sweet, as if trying to hide the smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

I glance at the paper without thinking. It’s a familiar routine—girls doing this all the time with the Legacy boys, passing messages.

I take the paper, not even questioning it, but then something in the way the girl and her friends are watching us gives me pause.

Their eyes are fixed on me as if waiting for something, and the tension in their stares feels... off. There’s an edge to it. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it’s enough to make me pause and glance down at the note.

“My mom’s a psychiatrist, by the way,” the girl adds lightly, her smile widening just a little too much. “After his outburst the other day at the shoreline, she’d be happy to recommend someone for him.”

I look down at the paper again, noticing an address scrawled neatly beneath what I now assume is some kind of smug little jab—probably her mother’s office.My fist tightens around the note.

“Give it to Bishop yourself,” I say coldly. “Or better yet—if Bishop were here right now, we both know you wouldn’t be nearly this bold.”

The girl's smirk falters, her mouth opening slightly like she wasn’t expecting pushback. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, glancing back at her table, where her friends suddenly look a lot less entertained.

Cam steps up beside me, his grin from earlier completely gone, replaced by something harder, darker. As we move past the girl, he shoots her a glare and mutters, just loud enough for herto hear, “You’d need more than your mommy’s office hours to handle Bishop.”

Sly, never one for subtlety, shoulder-checks her on the way out—not enough to knock her over, but enough to make her stumble a step, just enough to remind her and everyone else they aren’t not as untouchable as they think.

None of us look back. The dining hall’s gone too quiet behind us.

Seriously. What is going on around here?

Not in the mood to unpack what just happened back there, I stay quiet as we make our way toward the parking garage. The tension still hums under my skin, but I push it down for now.

After a beat, I turn to the other Legacies. “So… where is Bishop tonight?”

“He mentioned something about going home to help his mom with some family stuff,” Cam says, running a hand through his hair. “He seemed pretty quiet about it, so you know whatever it is… it’s probably stressing him out.”

Right.

We all know Bishop well enough to understand that he doesn’t exactly spill his guts, but when it matters, he opens up—just not in the way most people would expect. It’s more in quiet moments, when he feels the weight of something heavy, and even then, it’s never an overshare. Given all his faults, though, his dedication to his family is something I can’t help but admire, even if it means he sometimes skips out on our group activities. As we reach the parking garage, I can’t help but feel a twinge of envy. My own family dynamics are…complicated, to say the least.

“So, where are we headed?” I ask, pushing those thoughts aside—just like the ones from the dining hall.

Sly pulls out his keys, twirling them around his finger. “Cam was thinking we could try a new fusion place in town. The one with the weird name… What was it again?”

“Nebula’s Noodles,” Cam supplies, a slight glint in his eye.

“Works for me,” I say with a shrug, climbing into my brother’s luxury vehicle.

Our parents’ money certainly helped us buy cars in whichever style we desired. Sly went for the sportier model while I opted for something with a little more speed. As we exited the parking garage, the sky above is back to its usual dull grey overcast. Any chance of seeing a vibrant sunset is overshadowed by thick clouds, blocking out any colors of orange and pink that would normally paint the sky beautifully at this hour anywhere else.

As we drive through the winding streets of the town, the neon sign above the restaurant and flickering streetlights create an otherworldly glow against the dreary backdrop. It’s almost as if the town itself is trying to compensate for the lack of natural beauty in the sky.

“So, about this new design idea of yours,” Cam says, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled in the car. “Care to share with the class?”

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