Date = 13 November
Another hungover morning for me — without drinking.
Place = San Francisco (Damion’s house)
And I’m getting used to waking up here.
POV - Melaena
“Ship!” I wake with a violent gasp, coughing as icy water smacks me straight in the face. My lungs seize. My heart rockets into my throat.
“What the —!” I holler.
Water drips down my hair, my neck, soaks straight through my T-shirt. I sputter, half blind, half murderous, and glare around to find the bastard responsible for this early-morning assault.
Of course.
There he stands. My oh-so-lovely, doggone, cotton-picking excuse for a brother, still clutching the empty glass like a smoking gun.
Jackson Diabo Blackburn.
Grinning. Beaming. Positively glowing with pride.
He locks eyes with me, flashes that infuriating smile
