Jessica's POV

I stand in front of Michael’s door, tapping my fingers impatiently against my thigh. I know he’s home I made sure of that before coming here. A few seconds later, the door swings open, and there he is, standing shirtless with a towel slung over his shoulder. His face twists into a frown the second he sees me.

"What the hell are you doing here, Jessica?" he asks, leaning against the doorframe.

I smirk, stepping forward. "Relax, Michael. I just came to have a word with you."

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "You left with Stanley yesterday, and now you're here looking for me? What could you...