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I could get into my other hard drives from my high school days. I laughed at the photos of Summer and Lil’ Tay. Then there was my first ballet performance at The Met Opera, Homecoming Dance with Dayton—we wore identical crowns and sashes—Broadbent’s King and Queen.

There was a rare family photo at Grandma’s place in the Hamptons. My parents lounged on the lawn, quietly chatting with each other. Liam in his grunge phase, a devious grin tipping his lips as he curled his arm around my neck. Charles looked every inch the heir of the Vaughn dynasty in his polo shirt and khakis as he stood next to our proud grandmother. Uncle Ian beamed, his eyes crinkling with laughter.

I miss those days. I miss Grandma and Uncle Ian.

My eyes prickle and I shake myself. Olivia told me mourning a loved one could be an endless cycle, but the hurt would fade in time—these random memories would eventually bring both smiles and tears.

Clearing my throat, I close the error message on the screen. My usual passwords don’t work.

There have to be answers in this flash drive from those missing four years. Maybe something in there will trigger my memories. Maybe it’s only wishful thinking.

It looks like I might need to ask Liam to hack into it.

But are there things I don’t want him to see in there—naked pics or spicy videos? And is this technically breaking the rules of the medical trial?

Someone knocks.

I’ll think about it later.

Grinning, I traipse to the door and look through the peephole. Sure enough, my broody boyfriend is standing on the other side, looking completely delicious in his dark navy suit and crisp white shirt, no tie to be seen, his hair tousled with the slightest waves.

He’s holding a bouquet of lavender.

“Ethan!” I throw open the door and watch his eyes flare, his corded throat rippling.

“Nova,” he rasps. “Fuck me.”

He scans me from top to bottom, then back up again, lingering on my cleavage and the nipples currently prickling under his intense stare.

When his eyes meet mine again, I can barely see his pupils.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

Heat suffuses me. It’s my first outing to the Rose floors, something I’m excited for, especially after I’ve rediscovered my sexual appetite with Ethan. I want to dress to impress in this red silk halter mini dress with a deep-V neckline and my hair carefully curled in waves. “Like what you see?”

“Too much—I want to lock you up and throw away the key so no one can see you looking like this.” His eyes flash—the same possessive streak I’ve seen before sends my pulse racing.

Slowly, I bite my fire-engine red lip and he snares on the motion. Ethan growls and pushes me against the doorframe, one hand braced above me, the other grazing my waist.

“I want to kiss and mark up every inch of your creamy curves, because they’re mine,” he growls, and my pussy flutters.

“Ethan,” I moan, arching back and he presses his lips—a wisp of a kiss—on my neck before grinding his hips against my stomach, letting me feel every pulsating inch of him through his dress pants. Then he backs away.

“That’s the appetizer, Nova,” he murmurs, his lips tipping into a slow, seductive smile, and my clit swells.

“Not fair. You can’t rile me up like this before we leave.”

He hands me the flowers. “You’re cheating with that outfit, and I don’t play fair. Lavender for my favorite girl.”

I beam, take a whiff of my favorite scent, and set it on the entrance table before locking the door behind me.

When I turn toward him, I find him staring at me again, but this time, his eyes are shadowed, their intensity changing flavor.

“What’s wrong? Is something worrying you?”

An exhale escapes him, and he links his fingers with mine. “I have a big favor to ask you.”

My brows furrow.