LUCAS’S POV
“What the hell are you doing here?” I hissed, stepping outside and pulling the door shut so fast the frame rattled.
Isabella blinked at me, her dark eyes sweeping over the house before landing on mine. “You won’t even invite me in?”
“No.” My voice came out sharper than I intended. “How do you even know where I live?”
Her brows knit together, like I was the one being unreasonable. Her shoulder-length black hair swayed as she tilted her head. “Really, Lucas? I came to see you after almost two years, and you won’t even invite me in?”
“You should’ve called,” I snapped.
My heart was pounding—hard. Loud. Violent. Because behind that door… Avela was sitting in my shirt, eating pancakes I made for her, looking at me like I was her entire world.
If she saw Isabella out here…
If
