Elena’s POV

I didn’t exactly jump for joy when I saw Blake standing on the porch of my house that Saturday afternoon. The sun was warm, birds were chirping, and apparently the universe had decided it would be hilarious to pair me with the one person I’d actively spend my free time insulting.

Blake leaned against the railing like he owned the place. His usual smirk was plastered on, and I swear he smelled like arrogance mixed with too much cologne.

“Don’t just stand there, Prescott. ...