Ivy
I rang the doorbell. And rang it again. I shifted the grocery bag from one hand to the other, the plastic handles digging into my fingers as I adjusted my grip. If Lena didn't open this door in the next five seconds, I was going to start kicking it.
She hadn't picked up my calls. Not one. And after last night? Oh, I had things to say.
"Open up, woman," I muttered under my breath, pressing the bell one more time.
The lock clicked. Finally. The door swung open and I lifted my head, already halfway into my speech.
"Do you know how many times I—"
I stopped. That was not Lena.
Liam stood there. Shirtless. Hair messy like he'd run his hands through it one too many times. Sweatpants low on his hips. Oh.
Well that explains the radio silence.
"Hey... Ivy," he said, scratching the back
