Page 15

Dad slams his coffee cup down on the table. “The dean’s losing his goddamn mind this morning.”

I glance up from my phone, eyebrows raised. “Why?”

He levels me with a look like I should already know. “Brotherhood shit. You didn’t hear about the statue?”

“What statue?”

“The hawk. Vandals spray-painted it last night.”

My stomach flips, but I keep my expression neutral. “What’s the Brotherhood?”

Dad gives me this exasperated look, like he can’t believe he’s explaining it to me. “A secret group some of the players join. Been around forever, though they think it’s more mysterious than it is. The whole campus knows about them.”

I blink at him. “So, you know who’s in it?”

“Of course I do,” he says, sipping his coffee.

I cross my arms. “Then why don’t you, I don’t know, tell them to knock it off?”

Dad lets out a dry laugh. “You think the dean hasn’t tried? It’s Blackridge, Sienna. The Brotherhood’s practically part of the school’s legacy. They’re a pain in the ass, sure, but what can you do? It is what it is.”

“That’s bullshit,” I mutter.

He shrugs. “Welcome to college sports.” He points at me. “Language.”

I lean back in my chair, trying to piece this together. My school doesn’t have anything like this. No secret societies. The worst we’ve got is some frat bro puking on the quad after a tailgate.

“What’s on your mind?” Dad asks, narrowing his eyes.

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

I wave him off. “Just thinking about how different Blackridge is from my old college.”

There’s a knock at the door, and Dad sets his cup down, frowning. “Who the hell is it?”

Before I can even process the sound, the door swings open, and Caleb steps inside.

My stomach lurches, and for a second, I swear I stop breathing.

“Hey, Coach,” Caleb says, his voice casual like I don’t exist.

“Caleb,” Dad greets him. “What’s up?”

“I needed to talk to you about the lineup for Saturday.”

I’m already pushing back from the table, grabbing my phone and muttering something about needing to grab my notebook.

“Sienna, where are you going?” Dad asks, frowning.

“Just—uh, I’ve got homework,” I lie, bolting to leave.

I don’t look at Caleb as I pass, but I can feel his eyes on me.

The second I’m out, I shut the door and lean against it, heart racing.

God, please don’t let him say anything about the library yesterday.

The last thing I need is father drama. And yet, I find myself standing here and spying, listening in on their conversation.

I’m barely listening to what they’re saying, my mind wandering, when I hear the softest whisper in my ear.

“What are you listening to?”

I freeze, every muscle in my body locking up. The deep, unmistakable voice sends a jolt through me.

I turn slowly, expecting to see one of the last people I ever wanted to see right now. And there he is. Eli with an infuriating smirk. Tall, handsome as hell, and muscular.

I’m caught off guard, but I try to keep my composure, narrowing my eyes. “What are you doing here?”

Eli grins, stepping closer, his presence making my skin prickle with irritation. “Thought I’d come check out what the princess is up to.”

I sigh, exasperated. “What are you doing, Eli? Seriously, you need to stop.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Stop what?”

I shove a hand through my hair, shaking my head.

“Stop kissing me, stop messing with me. You’re the reason I’m stressed all the time.

I didn’t ask for any of this. I am not fucking interested, okay?

I should have never driven your car. I should have never come to your house. I shouldn’t have done any of it.”

His smile only widens, the bastard looking far too pleased with himself. “Princess, you don’t get it, do you?”

I glare at him, my pulse quickening with frustration. “No, I get it. And you need to stay away from me, okay? I don’t care if you think you have some sort of claim on me. I don’t want any of it.”

Eli tilts his head, eyes glinting with amusement. “Too bad. Already have my sights on you, princess.”

He takes a step closer, his face inches from mine, and then just to push every button I’ve got, he blows me a kiss, his lips curling into a smug grin.

I’m so pissed off I can barely speak. I feel like a storm’s rolling in.

“Don’t you dare—”

But he’s already walking off, fading into the distance, leaving me staring after him, wanting to throw something but knowing I’ll only embarrass myself.

“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath, too pissed to even care if anyone hears.

He’s right. I do get it. But it’s also the last thing I ever want.

The library is quiet, the kind of stillness that makes you hyper-aware of every little sound — the shuffle of a page, the hum of the AC, the occasional cough from someone trying not to break the spell.

My notebook is open, the header scrawled in bold.

Case Study: The Impact of Childhood Trauma on Adult Relationships .

It’s heavy, but I’ve always been drawn to the harder topics. There’s something about peeling back layers of human behavior that feels necessary. Like understanding the messiness of people might make them easier to handle.

My phone vibrates on the table.

Aaron texted me. I huff, rolling my eyes.

Miss you, Sienna.

A bad feeling hits my gut.

Don’t fucking text me.

I block his number and find myself glancing toward the door. Hoping. And for what?

Eli isn’t here.

Why would he show up here of all places?

I shake my head and force my focus back on the textbook in front of me, underlining a passage about attachment theory. The words blur after a while, and I give up, stuffing my things into my bag.

As I’m leaving, though, the universe decides to mess with me again.

I turn a corner too fast and nearly crash into someone.

“Shit!” I yelp, stumbling back.

It’s Caleb.

His eyes flick over me, but he doesn’t say a word. Just stares, his jaw tight.

I throw my hands up. “Seriously? Do you have a radar or something? Why is it always you?”

He still doesn’t respond, just brushes past me like I don’t exist.

“I literally never run into anyone like this,” I mutter, storming out of the library and heading home.

The kitchen is my therapy. Always has been. By the time I’m done, there’s a tray of blueberry muffins cooling on the counter, each topped with a swirl of cream cheese frosting.

I lean back against the counter, licking frosting off my finger. It doesn’t fix the knot of frustration in my chest, but it helps.

Dragging myself to the couch, I flop down, closing my eyes for just a second. The next thing I know, my phone’s buzzing.

“Hello?” I mumble, sitting up groggily.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dad says. “I’m on my way home, and I’ve got company. How about pizza for dinner?”

I rub my eyes. “Yeah, sure. Who’s the company? Another teacher?”

He laughs. “No, not a teacher. I’ll be there in ten.”

I hang up, my curiosity piqued. Dad doesn’t usually bring people over, especially not anyone from work.

The door opens, and I hear Dad’s voice before I see him.

“We’ll set up in the living room,” he says, his tone unusually upbeat.

I round the corner, wiping my hands on my jeans, and freeze.

Standing beside him, looking entirely too smug, is Eli.

My stomach flips, but I plaster on a smile. “Oh, you brought Eli.”

“Yeah,” Dad says, clearly oblivious to the tension crackling between us. “I thought we’d go over the game plan for Saturday. Eli’s got some good ideas.”

“Does he?” I say sweetly, my gaze flicking to Eli.

He grins, all cocky confidence. “Always.”

“Well,” I say, turning back to the counter. “I made muffins. You can have some while you talk.”

“Blueberry?” Dad asks, already reaching for one.

“Yep.” I grab a plate and set it on the table. “I’m going to head upstairs and shower. Pizza should be here soon.”

“Thanks, kiddo,” Dad says, biting into a muffin.

Eli doesn’t say anything, but I can feel his eyes on me as I leave.

In the bathroom, I close the door and lean against it, my whole body buzzing.

How the hell did Eli manage to worm his way into this house? Normally, Dad only brings captains over for strategy meetings.

I shake my head, trying to shove the thought aside. It doesn’t matter. Not really.

Stripping off my clothes, I step into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the day. I don’t have time to think about Eli or his stupid grin.

At least that’s what I tell myself.

The water scalds my skin, the steam thick in the air as I scrub shampoo into my hair.

It’s been a long day, and I need this hot water, soap, and silence.

I rinse out the suds, watching the soap swirl down the drain, then grab the body wash.

The sweet, citrus scent fills the air as I lather up, washing everything away.

I shut the water off and reach for the towel hanging on the rack. Wrapping it tightly around myself, I squeeze out my hair and pad toward the mirror. My reflection stares back at me, cheeks flushed from the heat.

Grabbing another towel, I wring out my hair again, then sling it over my shoulder. My skin is still damp as I crack the bathroom door open, stepping into my room.

And freeze.

“What the hell?” The words tumble out before I can stop them.

Eli’s sitting on my bed, legs spread like he owns the place. He’s licking crumbs off his fingers, the smirk on his face pure sin.

“Hey there, princess.” His gray eyes roam over me, starting at my bare legs and lingering on the towel wrapped tight around my chest.

“Get out!” I snap, clutching the towel tighter. “What are you doing in here?”

“Your dad went to grab the pizza,” he says, shrugging. “I told him I needed the bathroom.”

“There’s a bathroom downstairs,” I hiss, stepping back toward the door.

His smirk deepens. “I know.”

Before I can process that, he stands and strolls toward my bathroom like he owns it. My bathroom. He pauses in the doorway, turning back to wink at me.

“Don’t wait up.”