Chapter 337

Camila quickly tugged her shirt closed, brows knitted together. "Could you at least knock before coming in?" Prescott gave her a glance, his voice flat. "Dinner’s ready." With that, he shut the door behind him and walked away, not even waiting to hear what she’d say. Camila froze for a second. Was it just her, or did he seem... unusually polite just now? Normally, with how shameless Prescott used to be, catching her like that would’ve been an excuse to barge in and take full advantage—no boundaries, no hesitation. It felt odd, but she wasn’t going to overanalyze it. If he really was changing, well, that was definitely a good thing. She straightened her clothes, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the bathroom. Prescott was sprawled on the couch, shifting around like something in the cushions was bothering him. Probably not, though... more likely it was what he saw earlier. Those love bites on her chest—he knew he’d left them. He didn’t remember going rough, but clearly the marks tol