ASTRID — POV
Michael returned almost an hour later.
I noticed immediately.
Mostly because the moment he stepped into the corridor I was certain of one thing—he had definitely gone to take a shower.
His hair was damp, darker than usual, the strands falling slightly into his eyes in a way that made him look annoyingly handsome. The fresh clothes were also a dead giveaway. Earlier that morning he had been wearing that ridiculous outfit while harassing me in my room, but now he had changed into grey sweatpants and a simple white shirt that clung lightly to his broad shoulders.
And somehow that made him look even more dangerous.
Which was unfair.
Completely unfair.
While he had been gone, I had taken precautions.
The first thing I did after kicking him out was lock the door.
Just in case the perverted alpha decided to stomp back in while I was changing. Knowing Michael, he would probably claim he had simply "forgotten something" while staring shamelessly at me.
Not today.
