~Ava's pov~

I stared at the man in front of me, my hand still clutching the doorknob like it was the only thing keeping me standing.

The silence between us stretched thin.

His eyes raked over me judgmental, cold, furious.

I shrank back instinctively, pulling Logan’s shirt tighter around me.

“Real classy, Ava,” my father sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “Throwing yourself at the first guy with a bed.”

My stomach twisted painfully.

Before I could utter a reply, ...