Ronan’s POV
There she was.
Lisa.
Arms crossed like iron bars, foot tapping so fast it was practically drilling into the wood of the porch. Her eyes—sharp, blazing, a storm bottled in one body. And Heri, peeking out from behind her like a quiet shadow, book still clutched in her hands, expression unreadable but calm in that unnerving way she always carried.
Ah, hell.
I braced myself.
The second my boots touched the step, Lisa’s voice cracked through the air.
“—DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA—” She cut herself off, threw her hands up, then stomped down two steps closer, jabbing a finger at my chest like she was about to stab me with it. “Ronan. Freaking. Hunter. You are LATE.”
I blinked, thrown off by the sheer fire of it. “I—”
“Nope! Uh-uh! Don’t even start!” she snapped, wagging her finger l
