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“In my rush to get ready, I hit my desk, and it fell,” Eva halfheartedly answers.

Jade studies her and then the state of her room before stepping inside. “You go clean up and get ready for practice. We can see about getting the frame fixed after.”

Eva nods, but she’s not present. She walks to her closet and grabs her clothes before ambling to the bathroom.

Cooper and I stand, fixing our clothes.

“She could really use a friendly hug from you, Farrah. Your death is literally eating all the best parts of her alive,” Jade whispers to the image of our sister. “Don’t worry; I won’t let that happen. Something tells me you would never want Eva Rose to dull her light—not even for you.”

Her words land like a slap I didn’t see coming, but I shove the feeling down deep, burying it where the guilt used to live.

I watch as Jade stands, returning the frame to the exact spot Eva had before we messed with her things, and then exits the room.

Cooper and I lock eyes, and he says, “She’s going to be a problem, isn’t she?

Fixating on the spot Jade was standing, I retort, “Not if she knows what’s good for her.”

13

mason

I’m studyingmy team’s playbook when I hear the distinct sound of a key unlocking the front door, and I turn in time to see Liam enter the apartment.

“Hey,” he greets, striding into the living room.

Waving, I ask, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in days. How have classes been going?

He grimaces, dropping his bag on one of the kitchen chairs before he snatches a bottle of water from the fridge.

“That bad?” I question, arching my brow.

Liam rubs his beard as he sighs. “It was fan-fucking-tastic until the last ten to fifteen minutes of Human Sexuality.”

I wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t. Instead, he walks toward the window and stares into space as if searching for answers.

“Care to explain why you appear to be perplexed?”

“She’sher,” he huffs.

My eyes narrow. “Her?”

“Yes. She’sher.”

Leaning forward, I pinch the bridge of my nose and mentally count to ten. Since everything transpired with our family’sbusiness, I’ve become less patient, and Liam pretty much lives to test the extent of my patience daily.

“Who is she, and why are you upset that she’sher?” I mutter, glaring at his back before he spins to face me.

Plopping down in the brown leather recliner, he growls, “The girl from the party. She’s?—”

I cut him off. “Her. Got it. You’ve made your riddle abundantly clear,” I state, flicking my gaze to meet his coffee-brown eyes. “Why don’t you use your words?”

“Fuck off, Mase,” he snaps, pausing to collect himself. “The woman of my dreams is a fucking Pierce.”

That stops the retort already sitting on my lips.

“Close your mouth. I know. It surprised me, too.”

Rubbing the back of my neck, my brain tries to process this new revelation, remembering the girl from the advisor’s office. “What do you mean the girl of your dreams?”