“Sorry to bother you, I just—” My sentence jams in my throat when I realize it’s not my mother standing in the steam. It’s Knox. I’m about to walk out, but it’s too late. He’s already wrapping a towel around his waist and stalking toward me like an animal approaching their prey. I quickly back up and turn around. “What the hell is your problem?” My hand is already on the doorknob when Knox extends his arm past my head and slams it shut, trapping me. His warm breath tickles the side of my neck when he speaks, “You look like a whore.” Screw him.
