Stella:
The moment I turned around and saw Tristan standing there, my stomach clenched. Jonathan Mercer was still standing too close, his breath brushing my cheek from where he had just been spewing whatever entitled nonsense he thought would charm me.
I could still feel the press of his fingers against my arm, the subtle threat behind his smooth words and yet, none of that compared to the quiet, simmering tension rolling off Tristan as he stood in the hallway, arms crossed, that signature smirk tugging at his lips.
But I knew him. That wasn’t amusement. It was something darker. He was angry. The territorial type and on, did that make my ovaries jump.
I exhaled sharply and lifted a brow, ignoring the way my heart kicked up in my chest. “What are you doing here?”
Tristan leaned agains
