Zayne’s POV
Something was wrong, I knew it the moment Isla ignored his call.
Ethan.
The sound of his name had stayed in my head long after dinner ended. Long after she curled beside me on the couch pretending everything was normal.
I sat across from her now, pretending to scroll through emails on my phone while she rinsed plates in the kitchen.
The apartment lights were warm. Water ran from the tap as she hummed under her breath.
Damn.
Three days apart and I missed her enough to feel restless in my own skin. I should’ve been satisfied she was back in Seattle, but my instincts refused to settle.
The phone call replayed again. Her shoulders tightening. The way she turned away from me. The pause before answering.
Work.
Bullshit.
I knew what work sounded like. I lived around people
