THE RUBBERY SMELL OF A gym hit her even before she paused in the doorway. The dorm had been transformed since last night. Shiny new exercise equipment sat on pristine black rubber mats, the bare floor had been swept clean, and sunlight spilled through the open windows. Panda was wrestling with one of the bent window screens, the twist of his body tugging up his T-shirt and exposing a rock-hard abdomen. What she could see of his shirt was mercifully free of smutty messages, and the fact that she found this vaguely disappointing she blamed on Viper.

Temple grunted away on an elliptical machine, sweat dripping from her temples, wet tendrils of dark hair sticking to her neck. Lucy took in the scene of workout horror. “My food seems to be missing from the refrigerator.”

Temple hunched her shoulder and wiped her forehead on her sleeve. “Panda, take care of this.”

“Happy to.” He secured the screen and followed Lucy out of the room so quickly she knew he’d been looking for an excuse to escape. Before she could open her mouth to launch what she intended to be an un-Lucy-like tirade, he grabbed her elbow and steered her along the hall. “We have to talk downstairs. Loud voices upset Temple. Unless they’re coming from her.”

“I heard that,” Temple shouted from inside.

“I know,” Panda shouted in return.

Lucy headed for the stairs.

IT WAS PROBABLY PANDA’S IMAGINATION, but he could swear he saw dust bombs exploding from beneath the soles of Lucy’s ridiculous combat boots as she stomped down the worn beige stairway carpet. A carpet he suspected she wanted him to get rid of. Which he damned well wasn’t going to do.

She hit the bottom step. A purplish painted chest used to sit there, but it had gone missing, right along with the antler coatrack and that black shelving thing that was now on the porch holding some plants he hadn’t bought and didn’t want.

Why the hell hadn’t she taken off like she was supposed to? Because she’d latched onto this place. That was the thing about people who’d been raised with money. Their sense of entitlement made them believe they could have whatever they wanted, even when it didn’t belong to them. Like this house. But as much as he wanted to cast Lucy as spoiled, he knew it wasn’t true. She was rock-bottom decent, even if she was screwed up right now.

As she tromped toward the kitchen, her small butt twitched in a pair of weird-looking black shorts that weren’t nearly baggy enough. He wanted her in oversize clothes like those Temple was wearing. Clothes that covered up everything he didn’t want to think about. Instead she wore those black shorts and an ugly gray top with these black leather ties on her shoulders.