Grant was so happy to have Reagan home. They’d never been apart for more than a few nights at a time in all of her eighteen years. He didn't mind admitting that he was lonely without his baby sister. Sure, there had been a handful of offers here and there, always had been, but he wasn’t the type to go for something casual. He’d been out in the three months since Reagan moved to school and had some fun. He wasn’t looking to stick his dick in any random woman, but that never seemed to turn them off for some reason. He’d had two girlfriends over the years that Reagan didn't know about; women he liked enough to spend time with, but not enough to bring them home to his sister.

“Rise and shine, ladies.” He stood outside the bedroom door that he’d only opened a crack.

“Go away!”

He laughed loudly at Reagan’s attempt to shoo him off. “I made breakfast. Come and get it.”

He heard her muffled groan and was positive that was followed by the sound of her feet hitting the floor. He left the hallway so she could cross to the bathroom in peace.

Reagan found Grant in the kitchen sipping coffee as he leaned up against the counter. She walked up to him and fit herself under his chin as she’d done countless times. He set his mug down and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her on the top of the head.

“Morning.”

“I missed this,” she mumbled into his shirt. He was warm and solid, the epitome of home for her. “All I get in the mornings is a grumpy roommate.”

“Sorry, sweets.”

They stood in silence and soaked each other up until Luna shuffled into the kitchen in slippers and a bathrobe over her pajamas. “Good morning, you two.”

“Oh yeah.” Grant chuckled. “I did promise breakfast, didn’t I?”

He pulled a skillet of eggs out of the oven where he’d been keeping them warm, followed by a plate of bacon from the microwave.

They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes. Each of the girls accepted coffee and tried to feel awake. They’d spent the night hours talking instead of sleeping. It never seemed to matter how much time they spent together, they never ran out of things to say. Reagan had been told all of her life that she was an old soul, and it wasn’t surprising that she attracted those older than her as friends. After their plates were empty and the coffee pot was drained, Grant piled the dishwasher with what they’d dirtied while the girls got dressed.

“What should we do today?” Reagan asked her brother as they sat in the living room.

“The plantation?” Grant suggested. He watched Reagan glance at Luna, who shrugged.

“I’m up for whatever. We can hang out here if you would rather.”

Reagan nodded at Luna. “I think you’d like the plantation, but it’s not an all-day thing. We can tour the grounds and the gardens. There are some outbuildings we can look at it, but the main house is private tours only.”

“If it’s something you’ve done a hundred times and you can barely picture doing it one more time to appease a friend, then we can think of something else.” Luna shrugged. Reagan knew how easy going she was.

“There’s Virginia House and Agecroft Hall,” Grant said. He didn't mind touring old mansions for a day if it made his sister happy.

“They’re pretty impressive, and it’s been years since we’ve been there.” Reagan was more excited about that prospect, and Luna could tell that was where she preferred to go.

“Let’s do that, then.”

They agreed to take Grant’s truck and waited for him to get his shoes and wallet. He had to grab his leather jacket since it was barely creeping into the fifties, but he rarely got cold. The three of them clambered down the stairs and into the four-door truck. The girls decided to sit together in the back, causing Grant to grumble good-naturedly about being a chauffeur. It wasn’t a long drive to their destination, and soon they were parking in front of Agecroft Hall.

“Wow,” Luna said.

“Doesn’t look like anything that belongs in the south, does it?”

“Yeah, yeah, remind me I‘m a Yankee.” It was said without rancor, as they had both teased each other for their origins plenty of times in the past few months.

They spent some time walking around the estate and listening to the docent tell them about the architecture and the original owners. By the time they walked back to the truck, Reagan was excited to show Luna the Virginia House.

“Holy shit,” Luna breathed.

Reagan laughed. “Built in England, disassembled, and reassembled here. Crazy, huh?”

Grant led them to the entrance and paid for their tours, ignoring the protests from the girls. The house was massive and completely different from the one they just came from. It took longer to tour, especially since it had warmed up some and Reagan wanted to see the gardens.

“Wanna hit Bernie’s?” Grant asked as they strolled back to the parking lot.

Reagan’s eyes lit up as they reached his. “Yes!” She turned to Luna. “Pizza and subs.”

“Sounds good to me.”

They managed to find a table in the small restaurant when they arrived. After gaining Luna’s approval, Grant went to order his and Reagan’s favorite sub for all three of them. Luna looked around at all the pennants hanging from the ceiling.

“Fresh bread and pepper relish. That’s all I have to say.” Reagan took her coat off and hung it on the back of her chair.

“It sure sounds good.” Luna caught a guy looking their way and averted her eyes. “Three o’clock, blond hair and tattoos.”

“You just described my brother.”

Luna rolled her eyes. “No, closer to yours than Grant’s dark blond. Not very muscular.” She risked a glance, saw the guy was definitely looking at Reagan. “Ooh, he’s getting up. Walking, walking—shit!”

At Luna’s exclamation, Reagan looked up into the familiar deep brown eyes of her brother.

“Here we go.” He set the food on the table with a stack of napkins, unaware that he’d thwarted anyone’s advances.

“Thanks, Grant. It looks really good.”

Luna dug in first while Reagan tried to decide if she was happy that Grant reached them before the guy did, or not. It certainly would have been awkward if Grant had come to the table to find a man standing there, and Reagan was only in town for a few more days.

What she couldn't admit to herself was that she would never be interested in another man while things were still up in the air with Hudson.

****

HUDSON WAS NOT HAVING nearly as much fun as Reagan and Luna. He was home alone watching football and wishing he’d had the nerve to speak up the last time he saw Reagan. He had spent the entire weekend his father was there going back and forth on convincing himself that not contacting her was the right thing to do. His conviction only lasted until he found himself in the shower picturing the way her throat bulged around his cock as she swallowed him whole.

He declined his mother’s offer to come home, mostly because he’d spent enough unwarranted time with the senator lately. The man had ruined his plans with Reagan, and Hudson knew his own lack of conviction had ruined any chances of fixing his mistake. He knew what she was doing in class when she walked by him as close as she could without being improper. She looked good, which he suspected was also on purpose. He wanted to stop her from leaving, to invite her to his office, something. Anything. And of course, what he’d actually done was nothing.

He didn't know what he wanted anymore. It was against his plans and goals to add any kind of woman into the mix, let alone one that was out of reach. He could jeopardize his career by going after her before the school year was over. The problem with waiting was that he had made her so much more irresistible by claiming her as off-limits. He tried to rationalize his cravings as only that; the primal need for what one has been told they can’t have. It didn't have anything to do with the way she reacted to his every touch as no woman had before. It wasn’t because he was more than intrigued by her body. The soft curves and ample hips were a dichotomy to his usual experiences, and he should have found that to be an itch he was scratching. An experiment, if you will. Instead, he found thinner women flirting with him to be less attractive than he would have previously.

“It’s all in your head, Clark.”

He flipped the channel to something else but found he was completely bored with it. Without putting any thought into it, he turned the TV off and grabbed his keys from the hall table on his way out the door. He drove to the bar he and José had been to before. It was full of women the last time, and his friend had scored. Surely he could find a distraction there.

He ordered at the bar and took a seat on a stool. He didn't want to bother with a table, and he swiveled on the stool to survey the room. Not too crowded, but it was the day before Thanksgiving. It was slim pickings so far, but he had hope that it would pick up in the next hour.

He was wrong. He spent his time watching the flat screens and drinking, wishing there was any kind of a willing female in the vicinity. Nobody caught his eye, but worse than that, nobody approached him. That was something he wasn’t used to at all. Women typically flocked to him and any group he arrived with. He was used to women slipping him their numbers on cocktail napkins or even hotel room keys, depending on where he was at. He was used to going out in search of a warm and willing partner and going home with the same. This lack of female attention was out of the ordinary, and he could only place the blame on himself for his obsession with Reagan.

She wasn't the only woman in the world, he reminded himself. She wasn't the only woman with that physique, that long blonde hair and light brown eyes. They reminded him of honey when it was freshly collected.

He sat up straighter. What the hell was he doing comparing her eyes to honeycombs? For the love of god, he’d lost his touch. He was reduced to daydreaming about a college girl, for crying out loud. Throwing back the last of his first and only drink, he paid and left the bar. He drove around, trying to clear his head. He knew there was only one solution, but he didn’t like it. He couldn't find another woman to fuck Reagan out of his system. Instead, he would have to fuck Reagan to get her out of his system.

He didn’t know which dorm she lived in. That was probably a blessing because he was afraid he would drive straight there and knock on her door if he had a clue which hall she was in. He saw her around with the redhead all the time, but he didn't know what dorm she lived in, either, or if she lived off-campus. The other man he’d seen her with didn’t appear to be her boyfriend, despite the fact that Reagan was with him frequently as well.

He circled the campus grounds in the hope that she was there. Not many students were still around, but there were a few people gathered in the parking lot of an apartment complex across the street that was known to be popular for student housing. It wasn’t until a woman stared at him like he was a creepy stalker that he realized he was acting like a creepy stalker.

It was clear to him by then that he’d lost his damn mind.