Isabella's pov

The TV was on, but I couldn’t even tell what I was watching. My eyes kept drifting to the door like a fool. Every sound outside made my heart skip, a car, footsteps, anything.

Where the hell was Julian?

Damien was sprawled beside me, clearly amused. “You’ve looked at that door about fifty times in the last ten minutes,” he teased. “You expecting someone?”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “No,” I said quickly, grabbing the remote and pretending to adjust the ...