"Breakfast," Tristan announced, sauntering past Nova and into the house as if he owned the place.

Nova watched him, half-amused, half-annoyed. How had her home become his hangout?

Tristan plopped onto the couch, opened the breakfast box, and gestured at her. "Come on, eat before it gets cold."

"You do realize you're practically trespassing, right?"

He took a bite of his sandwich, unfazed. "Is it really trespassing?"

Nova frowned. Her privacy seemed more illusion ...