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“Bullshit. You could write Shakespeare papers in your sleep.” Gryff’s voice took on that annoying sing-song quality that meant he thought he had me figured out. “This is about your hot tutor.”

“She’s not my tutor.” The plates clanged louder than necessary. “We’re study partners.”

“Right.” He snorted. “Come on, man. I’ve seen you quote Romeo and Juliet in your sleep.”

“That was one time, and I had the flu with a fever of a hundred and three, and we’d just watched Leo and Claire in that romantic disaster.”

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

I pointed at him. “You’re not allowed to quote Shakespeare at me. That’s not a thing we do.”

“Fine.” He held up his hands in surrender, but his eyes were dancing. “Heard some of the guys saying some of the KAT girls are going to be at the hockey house party this weekend.”

My grip tightened on the weight I was holding. “Who’s talking about Tempest?”

“Oh, it’s Tempest now?” His grin widened. “Not ‘that annoying know-it-all’ anymore? And I didn’t say anything about her.”

I deliberately set the weight down before I did something stupid like throw it at my brother’s head. “You’re reading way too much into this.”

“Am I? Because I distinctly remember you saying, and I quote, ‘That girl is a menace to society and my sanity.’”

“That was weeks ago.”

“More than...two weeks ago. That’s exactly my point.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Look, I get it. She’s smart, she’s gorgeous, and she doesn’t take any of your shit. But you’ve got the combine coming up, and after that, the draft. You sure this is the time to break your two-week rule?”

“I’m not breaking anything.” I grabbed my water bottle, suddenly needing something to do with my hands. “And my rule has nothing to do with this. We’re just studying.”

“Uh-huh.” Gryff stood, stretching his arms overhead. “So you won’t mind if I make a move on her?”

The water bottle crinkled in my grip. “What?”

His laugh echoed through the weight room. “Wow. You are so screwed.”

“You stay away from her, you hear me, little brother?”

“We’re twins.”

“I am still four minutes older than you.”

“Yeah. But no wiser.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get back to work. You can pine over your not-tutor later.”

I flipped him off, but followed him back to the bench. He was right. I needed to focus. The combine and my future in the pros were what I should spend my time caring about. I couldn’t afford any distractions right now, no matter how intriguing they might be.

Even if they had surprisingly sexy reading glasses and a laugh that made my chest feel too tight.

Shit. I really was screwed.

Two days later, I slid into my usual seat in Shakespeare class, hyperaware of Tempest’s presence to my right. She hadn’t shown up for coffee yesterday, and her texts about rescheduling our study session had been weirdly formal. Like she was pulling away.

“Today,” the professor announced, “we’re discussing the nature of deception in Othello . The way secrets eat at the soul of not just the deceiver, but those around them.”

Tempest shifted in her seat, and I caught the same tension in her shoulders I’d seen during that phone call.

“Partner up,” Williams continued. “Discussion prompt is on the board. Ten minutes.”

Usually this was when Gryff would turn to us with his shit-eating grin, but today he was already pivoting to talk to the hockey player he had a crush on behind him. Subtle, bro. Real subtle.

“Guess you’re stuck with me,” I said to Tempest, turning my desk to face hers.

“Joy.” But the corner of her mouth moved in a decidedly smile direction.

“So.” I tapped my pen against my notebook. “Deception and secrets. You have any thoughts about those lately?”

Her eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean? ”

“Just that you’re good at analyzing hidden motives in literature. Makes me wonder what you’re hiding.”

“I’m not hiding anything.” But her hand drifted to her bag, where I bet that mystery notebook was stashed.

“See, that right there?” I leaned closer, lowering my voice. “That’s exactly what Iago would say.”

“Did you just compare me to the villain?”

“Nah. You’re way prettier.” I grinned at her eye roll. “Come on, Tempest. I know something’s up. You’ve been weird since our study date the other day.”

She tapped her pencil on the desk at the rate of a bunny on speed. “We should focus on the assignment.”

“Fine. Let’s talk about how Othello’s real tragedy isn’t the deception itself, but his failure to trust the people who actually care about him.”

That landed. I watched her throat work as she swallowed. “Some secrets aren’t about trust. They’re about protection.”

Hmm. That had me scooting my chair closer. “Protection for who?”

She met my eyes then, and something in her expression made my chest tight. “Everyone.”

Before I could push further, the professor called time. Tempest turned back to face front so fast she almost gave herself whiplash.

I spent the rest of class watching her take notes, her handwriting getting messier every time the professor talked about the weight of carrying secrets. When the bell rang, she was packed and halfway to the door before I could even stand .

“Hey.” I caught up to her in the hallway. “You coming to the hockey house tonight with your sorority sisters?”

“Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“Because you’d rather hide in your books?”

She stopped walking. “I don’t hide.”

“Prove it.”

“That’s your play? Really?” She shook her head, but I caught the ghost of a smile. “Questioning my courage?”

I shrugged, trying to look casual even though my heart was hammering. “If the book jacket fits...”

“You’re impossible.”

“Is that a yes?”

She shouldered her bag, already turning away. “It’s a ‘we’ll see.’” But this time when she walked away, her hips had a little extra sway to them.

“Smooth,” Gryff said, appearing at my shoulder. “Real smooth.”

“Shut up.”

“You know your rule doesn’t actually work if you spend every minute thinking about her, right?”

I watched until Tempest disappeared around the corner, that notebook-sized mystery still tucked in her bag. “Rules schmules, bro. Rules schmules.”