Julian’s POV
I never knock. I never have tried that. Not even once.
When we were twenty-one in college, she left the pool-house door unlocked the night Leon passed out drunk at his own birthday party, and I took her body, her everything that she offered without saying a damn word.
So why the hell would I start knocking now?
The handle turned really smooth under my hand. The lock was already off. I opened the door and stepped inside like I still owned the place, which I did in a way.
The master bedroom hit me like a memory that I never asked for. Jasmine, warm skin, and that tiny sharp bite of fear filled the air. Evening cool sun leaked through the sheer curtains, painting everything gold, soft and hazy. And there my Ava was, right in the middle of the carpet, standing in that lig
