Michael's POV
The office felt suffocating as I paced behind my desk, rage coursing through my veins. At least, that's what I convinced myself I was feeling.
But when Allyson stepped through the doorway, her eyes blazing with fury, everything shifted.
The anger transformed into something far more dangerous.
She stood there with her arms folded, jaw set in that stubborn line I knew too well. The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken accusations.
Yet despite the fire in her stare, all I could focus on was how incredible she looked.
Her hair hung in damp waves around her shoulders, still glistening from her recent shower. Those loose curls framed her face in a way that made my chest tighten with unwanted longing.
I found myself wondering if she still used that same vanilla-scented shampoo. The one that used to drive me wild when she'd curl up against me in bed.
My gaze wandered lower before I could stop myself.
