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“LexV8962…exclamation mark,” I mutter under my breath as I type my hundredth guess into my laptop.

I have a few minutes to spare before Ethan comes by to pick me up for the Trésor reopening at The Orchid.

Access denied.

“Dammit. Question mark?” I try again.

Access denied.

“What the hell, Lexy? What’s the damn password?” I grumble as I stare at the flash drive USB pen that tumbled out of the box of things from my old room when I had the picnic at Ravenswood.

Something about this drive bothers me, but I can’t pinpoint the reason.

It’s a gut feeling—maybe the answers I’ve been looking for are locked away in there.

I wonder if the USB drive holds the memories of Ethan and me—the memories of us I’m desperately searching for.

I sigh and pull out the notebook I brought to Ravenswood that day.

The one where Ethan wrote that beautiful poem when I asked him about the assignment.

The poem has to be about me, right?

Lavender is my scent.

My heart would flutter every time I reread his poignant words.

But then, a weight would settle on top of it.

Guilt? Grief? I don’t know.

Maybe a combination of everything.

Ethan would smirk when I asked him, but the amusement didn’t show up in his expressive eyes .

While we’ve only gotten together recently and I’m still learning—or re-learning—the quirks and personality of the quiet Anderson, I know it pains him I’ve forgotten our past. It guts him he can’t tell me anything.

And it hurts me to see him sad.

The spot above my rib cage aches again.

I wish I could remember—I wish I could understand the depth of his feelings for me.

There have to be beautiful memories stashed away, moments that are irreplaceable.

It isn’t fair—for me, our love story is just beginning, but for him, I have a feeling it’s already ingrained in his soul.

It’s okay. We can always make new memories.

But it’s imbalanced.

How he feels for me versus what I feel for him.

Sure, I love him, but how could my feelings ever match his?

He’s spent nearly a decade loving me, holding onto memories I don’t have.

How do I catch up to that?

It’s not right.

It’s devastating.

Maybe someday I’ll be worthy of his devotion.

Exhaling, I stare at the error message on the screen.

I fight the urge to tug at my hair because I don’t want to ruin my perfectly curled waves before Ethan sees me tonight.

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.

“You know that embezzlement case I’m working on?”

I nod, vaguely remembering him telling me about it a while back.

“We’re close to figuring out who’s behind it. And right now, unfortunately, your…friend, Dayton, may be involved.”

“Dayton? But why? He’s doing well with his company. He doesn’t need money.”

“We don’t have all the answers yet, but he’ll be at the event tonight. Some of my folks will chat with him to see what he knows. If he comes and talks to you, can you keep your conversation to a minimum? And don’t go anywhere with him…at least until I clear him?”

What?

“But Ethan, it’s Dayton , the captain of the football team. The guy who stuck around and befriended me after I woke up. Are you sure?”

A muscle tics in his jaw.

“I need you to trust me on this. Maybe I’m paranoid. But I need you to stay safe…I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt again. Can you do this…for me? Once I sort this out, I’ll let you know. Please.”

Unease swirls inside me as I look into his eyes.

I think about Dayton kissing my hand on the cruise and how he wanted more.

Maybe it won’t hurt to stay away, just to set boundaries.

“Fine. But you need to tell me when you find out if he’s part of this.”

He nods, his frame relaxing.

“Will do. And one more thing, just for my peace of mind, will you share your location with me on your phone? I’m probably paranoid, but I need to know you’re safe.”

A weight settles on my chest as I take him in—the muscle ticcing on his forehead, the urgency in his voice.

I have a feeling he’s not telling me the full extent of everything.

I take out my phone and hand it to him.

“Sure. But you better share your location with me too. Quid pro quo.”

Ethan smirks and taps a few buttons before handing my phone back.

“I have no secrets from you. Stalk me, track me.” He leans in and whispers in my ear, “It turns me on.”

My core pulses and I give him a gentle shove.

“Ethan!”

Chuckling, he holds my hand and leads me toward the elevator.

“Ready for a night of debauchery, my little hummingbird?”

“Ready for anything with you.”