Damn am I hot! f**k! I never sleep under blankets or sheets. I always run a few degrees above everyone else. But tonight’s ridiculous. It takes me a few seconds to realize that I’m not in my own bed back in my apartment. There’s the chair I don’t know and the mini fridge humming along. A sign on the door I can barely read through my squinted eyes gives the checkout time as ten a.m. And beside me, a girl is awake and moving. Sunday. I can’t believe I forgot about Sunday.
She doesn’t notice I’m awake. She’s too busy fumbling with something on the side of the bed to even care that I’ve hoisted my head up on my arm for a better view. She’s got my pair of jeans in her hand and is going through the pockets carefully. The b***h is actually trying to steal from me! Was this the plot all along? Di
