CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Friday brings with it a feeling of eternal suffering.
I stride into work with a piping hot, extra-large coffee in one hand and fantasies about the coming weekend in my head. I’m dying for a sleep-in. Nightmares have plagued my dreams of late. Glowing cat eyes follow me in the dark while computers burst to life and chase me through endless office corridors. A comically huge gym bag that I seem to have to carry everywhere overflows with body parts. And that’s nothing compared to the dreams where I wake up just as I walk into the bedroom and find a shirtless Sam waiting for me. Little wonder I’ve barely slept.
There’s no doubt my exhaustion is advertised clearly on my face, but if anyone thinks they can take advantage of me, they are so wrong. Moody doesn’t begin to cover
