Kimberly's POV
Afternoon sun pierced through the window and left streaks of gold across the hardwood floor. I stood in the middle of Xavier's closet-his impossibly large, impossibly organized closet-trying to catch my breath.
I really hadn't meant to sneak in. At least, not really.
It was such a simple thing in its conception-to make him something, a special clothes, as a form of thank-you-for everything, for having my back, for the quiet way he sheltered me, for never making me talk about things when I wasn't ready.
A token of appreciation, that's all.
It would be the first male clothing I would be designing and to do this, I required his measurements.
And that's how I found myself standing in the middle of his walk-in, surrounded by lines and lines of suits, expensive
