(William’s POV)
“Do you always open the door this slowly, or were you expecting someone else? After all, I don’t usually get home this early,” I said, stepping inside.
Angela gave me a look, part charming, part amused, as she leaned against the frame of the giant central door, wearing one of my long white shirts. She didn’t seem to have anything else on, maybe just a pair of bum shorts, though all I could really see was bare skin.
“I was hoping it was the delivery guy,” she said. “He brings things I actually crave.”
I dropped my keys into the aesthetic ceramic bowl perched on the hallway stool and kicked off my leather Chelsea boots. “Ouch. I refuse to let those sarcastic words wound me. I bring warmth, affection… and thirty-six missed calls from my father.”
She snorted and walked sof
