Brandon's POV
I didn't answer her right away.
The room had settled into that fragile quiet that only comes long after midnight—when the world feels suspended, when even breathing sounds louder than it should. The air was still, heavy with warmth and unsaid things. Chloe lay against me, her body relaxed now, soft and trusting, her breathing slow and even. Her lashes rested against her cheeks, shadows fanning out beneath them, as though she'd surrendered herself completely to the night—and to me.
Her question lingered between us.
Tell me about your first love.
It came out of nowhere. Of all the things she could have asked—out of everything we were skirting around, everything we were carefully not touching—this was the one she chose.
