Jenny
Matt's bedroom door opened with a quiet snitch of a hinge, and I stilled. I'd left my door open because I hated enclosed spaces, especially while asleep and defenseless. I hoped the light or my movements hadn't woken him. He didn't move for several beats, and then his footsteps padded on the hardwood floor.
As he came into view, my heart pounded. Stupid, but it was my visceral reaction to him every time. Twelve years and it hadn't evaporated. Especially when he wore nothing but a pair of black nylon shorts and an uncertain expression. He stopped in the hallway outside my door and sighed, not meeting my gaze. He gripped both sides of the doorframe, leaning into his hands. Head hung, he stared at his feet.
I took in his lean, athletic build while he wasn't paying attention. My pant
