C78 Seventy-eight

The deep, masculine voice runs over me like melted chocolate, my knees buck and I lean on the door for support. Is he aware of my presence? Is this a trap? Shouldn’t he have asked for my identity? I smoothen the front of my jacket, inhale and push the door open.

Brandon rises with an urgency that causes his seat to clatter to the ground, I swallow my disappointment as he halts midstride