Page 172 of Anti-Hero

I drop the pizzas on the island and continue to the bar cart in the living room, fixing two glasses of scotch.

When I walk back into the kitchen, Flynn’s standing in front of the fridge. He’s staring either at the playing card that’s still taped to the front or the sonogram hanging next to it.

“Kid looks just like you,” he says, glancing over his shoulder as I approach. “Gray and fuzzy.”

“I’ve gotten that a few times.” I hand him his drink. “Cheers.”

We clink glasses.

I take a sip.

Flynn chugs the contents in one go.

I lift an eyebrow. “Are you going to tell me what’s bugging you now or wait till we’ve had a few of these?” I ask.

He reaches for one of the pizza boxes, flipping it open and pulling a slice out.

“I got into Harvard Law.”

“Congrat—”

“And construction on the new Parks Student Center starts in Cambridge this spring.”

“Oh,” I mutter.

His father’s ultimatum might have been the only reason he applied, but I know how badly Flynn wanted to get into law school on his own merit. Or at least feel like he did.

A donation large enough to fund a new student center? Wipes that out completely.

“I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s fine. I should’ve fucking seen it coming.” He takes a large bite of pizza, chews, and swallows. “Did Rory get in?”

I clear my throat. “Yeah, she did.”

“Figures.”

“You don’t have to go to Harvard, Flynn. Or go to law school at all. Train for a marathon. Go parasailing. Write a book. Do somethingyouwant to do.”

Flynn scoffs. “He’ll cut me off.”

“Let him.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re a Kensington. My dad might not be a billionaire, but he has enough to miss. I’m used to being rich. Ilikebeing rich, Kit.”

I laugh, and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. My life’s one big joke.”

“I hate to state the obvious, but you could get a job and support yourself.”

“Doingwhat? You know me. I’m good at …”

“Partying and getting laid?”

He tosses his crust toward me. He used to pitch, so it bounces off my chest. “I feelmuchbetter now. Thanks for the awesome pep talk.”

“Okay.” I rest my elbows on the marble counter, turning serious. “So, you go to Harvard Law, keep your trust fund, and everyone knows your dad bought your way in. Is that really so bad? Same result.”

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