I creep toward the front door, moving as quietly as possible.
Freedom is three steps away.
Two.
One and I am—a door opens.
“Chiara?”
Oh no.
I slowly turn.
And there he is.
Noah Walker.
Standing in the hallway.
Completely.
Distractingly.
Gloriously.
Naked.
His hair is messy from sleep, his broad shoulders filling the doorway, and for a split second my brain forgets every single reason I had for leaving.
Because wow.
Just wow.
His blue eyes search my face.
Confusion first.
Then concern flickers there.
“Everything alright?”he asks, voice rough from sleep.
My stomach flips.
This is the moment.
The moment where I could say something honest.
Something real.
But honesty feels terrifying.
And it’s morning.
Morning means reality.
So instead I do what cowards everywhere have done since the dawn of time.
I panic.
