He woke up to the sound of the shower in the bathroom. After turning over, he did his best to focus on the clock radio on the bedside table. Eight-thirty. That was actually kind of early for him, since he didn’t have a job to go to each day and his nighttime activities often kept him awake well past midnight.
Clearly, Cassandra didn’t have the same sleeping patterns. Her bed was already made, her overnight bag sitting open at its foot, indicating that she’d probably rummaged through it to find the things she needed to take with her into the bathroom.
In a way, it was kind of disappointing to have missed seeing her with morning-mussed hair and no makeup. She might have seemed more vulnerable that way, a little less tough. It was hard for him to realize that she had to be four or five year
