/ Zane's POV /
Maybe seeing Maddy stand in the middle of my damn room wearing that skimpy-ass dress I never even knew she had gave me a rush of adrenaline I didn't know I was capable of. Heat crawled up the back of my neck, the room suddenly feeling smaller—thicker—as if her presence alone shifted the air.
Her smell—just as intoxicating as the taste of her—was close to what Allison smelled like, but at the same time unique in its own way. Warm vanilla, faint citrus, and something sharper… something that hit low and hard like a drug I shouldn't have tasted twice.
I found myself being brutally honest with her despite constantly avoiding the topic. The aching need I had for her thrummed in my nerves, messing up my reasoning, like a pulse under my skin—steady, insistent, almost painful.
And I told myself, maybe this isn't as complicated as we made it look. We want each other—but not like we both want to start dating or anything.
