Damien’s POV:
The door slams open, and I grunt, sliding my body farther down the chair, hoping it will hide my presence.
“Damien! I can see your head poking out!” Ian shouts then giggles, “Get it? Your hea-”
I turn around and shot him a nasty glare. “Don’t even finish that sentence,” I said, noticing a bouquet of roses in his hands. “Who’s the unlucky lady?” I ask, wondering when he actually found a girl. I haven’t seen Ian dated ever since his mate passed away.
He smiles, paces towards me, and places the flowers down. “The unlucky lady is Isabella, and the unfortunate man who will give it to her is you.” He twirls a finger in front of my face then poke my cheek.
I smack the hand away, then stared at the flowers for a few moments before returning my sight at him. “No.”
“Dude,
