♥ Chloe ♥
I stood outside his door at exactly six p.m., my palms were slightly damp, and my heart thudded like it had somewhere better to be. For a second, I just stared at the sleek black door. The hallway was quiet, but I took a deep breath and finally knocked on the door. A moment later, the door opened, and there he was. Jethro Jotham. I was surprised to see that he was barefoot. His sleeves were rolled up, and he wore a pair of loose-fitting jeans. Of course, I didn’t want to take notice of how attractive he looked. If it wasn’t for the smell, I may have said something inappropriate. But instead, my entire brain short-circuited. The smell of butter, garlic, and something citrus and warm. Something like toasted honey.
“You are right on time,” he said as he stepped aside to let me in.
