Zoe's POV
Brandon turned back, he placed his guitar on the floor by the wall and sat on the bed.
He didn't frown. He didn't act like he'd heard something wrong. He didn't look awkward, or shift like someone who'd just been dropped into a situation he wanted to escape. No—he did none of those things. He just sat by my bedside like it was the most natural thing in the world.
My eyes betrayed me. They followed him to the spot, hungry, greedy even. But as soon as his head began to tilt toward me, I threw my gaze away—fast, like I'd just remembered there was a fascinating mural painted on the blank wall. Spoiler alert: there wasn't. The wall was plain, boring, and cream-colored. But at that moment, I acted like it was some expensive piece. Anything to keep me from letting him catch the embarrassment painted across my face.
