SHARON's POV
The house was too quiet.
Even the ticking clock on the wall sounded like it was waiting for something or someone.
I'd been pacing since noon, replaying our last conversation again and again, wondering if he'd come back angrier… or not at all.
Every sound outside made my heart jump, until finally I heard it, the low growl of his car pulling into the compound.
My breath caught.
I didn't even think; my feet were already moving. By the time the front door opened, I was there, waiting.
Ace stepped in, shadows of exhaustion under his eyes, his shirt slightly undone like he'd been fighting more than traffic.
For a second, he just stared at me, silent, unreadable.
"Are you…" I started, voice small. "Are you still angry..."
I didn't finish.
His hand came up, rough and certain, pulling me in. His lips crashed into mine, stealing the words right out of my mouth.
