Felix hadn't planned to stay long. He never did when it came to visits at his parents' house these days.
He had barely crossed the threshold when he saw her.
Lara.
She was sprawled lazily on the living room sofa as if she owned the place, one leg crossed over the other, her glossy hair spilling over her shoulders in practiced waves. A crystal glass dangled from her fingers, the pale liquid inside swirling with each careless flick of her wrist. She looked up at him the moment he entered, and that smug little smile, the one he had once mistaken for charm, spread across her lips.
"Well," she drawled, her voice smooth as syrup, "look who decided to grace his parents with his presence. Or should I say… with mine?"
Felix's jaw tightened. "What are you doing here, Lara?" His tone was flat, clipped. He didn't bother hiding the irritation in his voice.
