KELLAN'S POV
"Sharon?" I muttered, turning back to the screen. Why was she calling me now-after everything? I faltered, looking over to Olivia still out on the dance floor. She looked puzzled, her eyebrows furrowing in a little knot. And really, I knew I had every reason in the world to just ignore this call.
After all, it was Sharon in Paris whom I had left not much explaining and since that time, I had neither called nor written to. Something, however, didn't feel quite right.
I moved away from the ballroom; the sound of clinking glasses, accompanied with suppressed chuckles, was building in volume in correlation with my steps to the quiet part of the venue - and swiped to answer on screen, bringing the phone up to my ear.
"Sharon-
"Kellan?" A voice, other than Sharon's, came over
