KATY'S POV
Life has a twisted sense of humor. One day, you’re dramatically declaring to yourself that you’ll never fall for a guy, that you’ll never end up in his bed, and that you’re saving yourself for emotional stability or whatever and the next, you’re waking up sore in places you didn’t even know existed because of that same guy.
At least, I get extra points for actually enjoying the whole thing…more than him, actually.
I groan softly, blinking my eyes open. For a moment, I expect to see Braydon lying beside me, but the bed’s empty.
My head sinks into the pillow as I glance around his room. It looks half-destroyed with clothes everywhere, his hoodie draped over a chair, and my bra hanging off his lamp like a sad trophy. Then I hear it: the unmistakable clank of a pot or something
