CALHOUN'S POV.
Steven didn’t come home that night.
That alone was enough to put me on edge.
He never not come home without giving an excuse, besides we shared this penthouse and I guess I had gotten so used to him around.
By morning, I’d checked my phone more times than I cared to admit—messages left on read, calls ringing out unanswered. What actually could be wrong, if he was hooking up,he would have been home by now.
By afternoon, irritation had turned into something sharper. Something restless.
I hadn’t gone to the office. Not that I need to.
I stayed in the penthouse.
Sweatpants hung low on my hips, a fitted short-sleeve clinging to my arms, untouched coffee cooling on the counter. I’d been sitting on the couch for hours, staring at nothing, replaying the way Maddie’s face had
