Page 27 of Claiming Pretty

It wasn’t every day two ridiculously gorgeous twins fought over who got to haul your antique makeup vanity upfour flights of ancient stairs. They clashed over everything, from my chair to my books to which box should be unpacked first.

But now? Now the tension between them felt like a ticking time bomb, and I wasn’t sure I could defuse it.

But it wasn’t just today. I’d noticed the bruises on their knuckles, the split lips they tried to hide.

Something had happened the night Ebony interrupted our reunion. I’d demanded answers, but neither of them had offered a single word.

Whatever was festering between them, they’d silently agreed to keep me out of it. But I wasn’t naïve enough to think their restraint would last forever.

“You two are going to kill each other over a chair,” I said, trying to sound exasperated, though my voice came out softer than I intended. “That’s not important. Put it wherever you want.”

They both glanced at me, their identical gazes softening briefly before snapping back to each other like magnets drawn to opposite poles.

It wasn’t about the chair. It was never about the chair.

And no matter how much I wished they would stop fighting, I knew this wasn’t a battle I could mediate.

Ciaran smirked, giving one last tug toward the alcove. Ty’s jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening around the leather. The chair wobbled again, and I sighed, falling back against the mattress.

This was going to be a long semester.

“Hello?”

The familiar voice of my best friend, Lisa, echoed through the apartment.

My heart leaped into my throat. I shot up from the bed and bolted to the living room, my bare feet skidding slightly on the wooden floor.

Standing there, framed by the doorway, was Lisa—radiant and effortlessly put together as always. She wore a flowy summer dress with puffy sleeves that gave her an almost ethereal glow, her arms loaded with a precarious stack of folders.

Fuck, I missed her.

Without thinking, I ran straight for her.

Lisa’s folders tumbled to the floor as we collided, throwing our arms around each other in a crushing hug that nearly took the breath out of me.

“Bish, where the hell have you been?” she hissed in my ear, her voice low and sharp with worry. “And don’t give me any of that shite about sailing around the Mediterranean.”

Her words hit me like a gut punch, squeezing my chest until it ached.

Lisaknew. She had known, somehow, that something was wrong. She’d seen through Ty’s carefully curated faceless posts about my glamorous summer trip.

And the thought of her worrying—of her pacing, overthinking, trying to call me and getting no real answers—it hurt in a way I wasn’t prepared for.

I pulled back slightly, my hands still gripping her shoulders.

Her eyes searched mine, her worry and frustration written all over her face.

“I’ll explain everything, I promise, but later,” I said, my voice tight, barely steady. It was the best I could offer her right now.

Lisa didn’t look convinced. Her eyes narrowed, her lips pressing into a hard line like she was gearing up to demand answers. But before she could speak, her gaze shifted to something—orsomeones—over my shoulder.

Her mouth fell open in surprise.

“Holy shit,” she whispered, her voice a mix of awe and disbelief. “There’s two of them.”

Ciaran appeared at my side, his grin devilish as ever.

“You must be Lisa,” he said smoothly, his tone dripping with honeyed charm. “Ava’s told me so much about you.”

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