Zoe froze for a second, as if her brain had completely shut down. Then she suddenly stepped back, clumsy, tripping over her own words.“I… I need to go to the bedroom real quick… wait here!” she said, her cheeks flushed, smoothing out her wrinkled dress as she hurried toward the kitchen.Arthur furrowed his brows, smiling at her confusion.“The bedroom isn’t that way, Zoe!” he pointed out, amused.She stopped halfway, made a vague gesture with her hand—as if to say I know, I’m just lost—then turned around and walked down the hallway. When she closed the bedroom door behind her, she leaned her back against it and pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady her racing heart.“Calm down, Zoe… breathe… it’s just hormones,” she told herself, shaking her head. “Just hormones, right? Just hormones wanting to dance funk with him on a Friday night…”She let out a breathy laugh, a mix of nerves and sweetness, then walked to the closet. She picked up a light wooden box, carrying a faint lavend
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