Sora
I barely unlatch the lock before Kade pushes the door open, his broad frame filling the tiny washroom and stealing all the air.
The faint scent of cheap perfume clings to him. It makes my stomach churn.
“Whatever you wanted, couldn’t it wait until I was done?”
Kade crosses his arms, jaw tight, eyes dark with that stormy anger I’m getting far too used to. He has absolutely no right to look pissed. He’s been a complete jackass all afternoon—cold, distant, letting some other woman drape herself over him like a second skin. If anyone should be furious, it’s me.
When he doesn’t answer, I turn back to the mirror, dragging my fingers through my curls in an attempt to look unbothered. But I catch his gaze in the reflection. He’s staring again, intense and unblinking.
“Can you stop doing
