Tabitha: I froze, the voice. It was deep, rough, and familiar. I was alone. At least, I was supposed to be. I turned, heart hammering, still clutching my burning hands mid-air. The towel slipped loose with the movement. I gasped and reached out to it out of instinct, but it was too late. It hit the floor in a useless heap around my feet. “Fuck.” My tank top was wet from my hair and it was see-through and I was barely in good underwear. There, standing in the doorway, was Enzo, my godfather. Dressed sharp in his black slacks and white shirt, sleeves rolled up like he’d just stormed in from work. His dark eyes locked on mine, widening with instant panic, not at my almost naked body, not at the awkward scene, but at the red, blistering mess that were my hands. “Jesus, Tabby!” he cursed, dropping everything, phone, his keys, and what looked like takeout right onto the kitchen island with a loud clatter. In two long strides, he was in front of me. I was shaking, an
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