Brandon's POV
The moment I stepped out of Zoe's room and gently closed the door behind me, I exhaled—a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding for minutes. My hand lingered on the doorknob a second longer than necessary, and my forehead nearly dropped against the wood.
If I had stayed in there another minute, I wasn't sure what I would have done. Not because I didn't respect her, but because I did. I wanted her, every inch of her. And pretending I wasn't human was becoming increasingly difficult.
Seeing her wrapped in nothing but a towel, the way her skin flushed when I helped her dress, and how her pulse jumped beneath my fingers when I applied lotion—all of it was intoxicating.
I dragged a hand through my hair and forced myself to move. She trusted me, and that mattered more than anything else. Yes, I was attracted to her in every way a man could be attracted to a woman. It wasn't subtle; it wasn't mild. It was constant, consuming, and dangerously close to the surface.
