My eyes darted to Brax, who’d jogged up to us. He wore a Silverbacks baseball cap, bill facing the back, and a Silverbacks tee shirt. The long-sleeved button down he wore over it hung open. When I glanced over my shoulder I saw his brother leaning against the live oak tree in the quad where they’d been arguing. His arms crossed over his chest, eyes were on us. Watching. Kane McCarthy. I felt as though he were looking directly at me. Inside of me.

“Harper here is still trying to recruit me into their sorority,” Olivia stated.

I turned and Brax’s startling blue eyes and scarred face studied mine as he draped his arm over Olivia’s shoulders. He pulled her close, kissed her on the temple, then grinned. “Yeah, good luck with that, sweetheart. Gracie here ain’t into clubs of any sort. Unless it’s the Brax club.” He chuckled, and his strong Boston accent paired with a penetrating gaze as he studied me a little longer, an unsettling sort of inspection that almost had me fidgeting where I stood. I struggled not to glance away. Sometimes, he looked at me as if he knew. Knew my secrets, just like Murphy seemed to. Brax’s mouth pulled up in one corner, and it was a soft, friendly sort of movement that eased his harsh features. “Nice suit.”

I glanced down at my wardrobe, then back up. Corinne Belle always insisted that in order to be successful one had to dress successful, at all times. No jeans. No tee shirts. No sweatpants. Only the finest would do. My wardrobe was chosen and tailored for me each semester by Corinne.

She’d insisted.

And so I did just that. But I couldn’t tell if it was sarcasm or a compliment. Knowing Brax it probably was a little of both, but I took it as a compliment. “Thanks, Brax.”

He gave a slight nod, then looked at Olivia. “You go ahead,” he said, then kissed her on the nose. “I’m going to”—his eyes flashed quickly to me, then back to Olivia’s—“get my brother out of here for a while. Come over later?”

“Of course,” Olivia answered softly.

Suddenly, I felt like an intruder. I could feel the tension rolling off of Brax in waves. Was he that angry with Kane? I’d seen Brax Jenkins angry before. It wasn’t a pretty sight. My eyes flicked to the slim black leather watch strapped to my wrist. “I…have to go,” I said hurriedly, and smiled at Olivia. “Oh—did you sign up for the Turkey Run on Saturday?”

Olivia grinned. “We both did.”

I nodded. “Super, thanks. See you guys there.”

“Oh, Harper,” Olivia said. I looked at her, and she smiled. “I’ve been meaning to ask. Do you have plans for Thanksgiving? You’re welcome to come home with us. We always have a load of food.”

My insides froze, and I pasted a smile as panic seized me. “Oh, thank you, Olivia, but…I’m going home.” I gave a laugh that came out a lot meeker than I’d planned. And so did the lie. “It’s a huge Belle ordeal. Very Norman Rockwell. You know what I mean. But thank you.”

Olivia nodded, and her eyes softened. “If anything changes, the offer is there, Harper.”

Brax kissed Olivia’s temple and wiggled his brows. “She makes pies.”

This time, my smile came easy. His love for her came off him in waves. “Thanks, Olivia. Brax.”

I hurried off toward the library, and at the steps I paused and looked over my shoulder. The pair moved up the walkway, Brax’s arm protectively around Olivia, his head bent close to her ear, then they stopped at the walkway leading to the Science complex and he pulled her close, pressed his mouth to hers and kissed her long. Olivia’s head lifted, smiling up at Brax, and he turned and jogged away.

I couldn’t imagine what Thanksgiving would be in Olivia’s world. I knew she had a big family, and I envisioned it to be something similar to one of the Holiday Hallmark movies Murphy frequently watched on her laptop. I swallowed my sigh, pushing Thanksgiving and holidays and turkey and big families out of mind and turned, my gaze seeking Brax’s brother.

His stare seemed dead on me. I couldn’t move; couldn’t look away. Finally, Brax reached him, and the pair turned and sauntered off.

Kane McCarthy. Mysteriously quiet and attractive. Street kid. Foster kid. From Boston. And he was here to run bets during football season. Not much to know about a person, and what there was to know was pretty shady and a little frightening. But by the time my last class finished for the day, he’d entered my mind at least a dozen or more times. Slightly frustrating when trying to concentrate on the notes Professor Sizemore was giving on the Ming Dynasty. That quiet, slightly accented voice and those dark smoky eyes kept interrupting my thoughts. Disruptive, to say the very least. Then there was that crooked smile—

“Hey, Harper,” a familiar voice sounded behind me. I’d just escaped class and was headed to a meeting for the annual Greek bake sales when Murphy caught up to me. She eased into my pace as I hurried along. “Fancy a little curry for dinner?” she asked in her heavy English accent. “I heard of a new place that just opened in Covington.” She elbowed me as I gave her a side glance. “The absolute dog’s bollocks, I’m told. I’ll drive.”

I smiled and shook my head as we weaved through the student body of Winston. I’d learned most of her witty British slang, so I knew dog’s bollocks was a good thing, despite the crude sound of it. “Your driving terrifies me.”

“Ha! I’ll have you know I’ve pinched only two violations since arriving here, Ms. Belle. My driving skill is nothing short of legendary.”