^Chsrlotte^
My alarm clock, which was apparently a disgruntled rooster, shrieked, yanking me from a dream where I was wrestling a giant, fluffy marshmallow. I groaned, burying my face in the pillow.
The lingering scent of pine and potent alpha male still clung to the sheets, a silent, mocking reminder of King Arthur’s impromptu bedroom raid last night. Seriously, what was his deal? One minute, he’s colder than a winter storm, the next he’s a snarling, jealous beast, marking territory like a dog on a fire hydrant. My brain felt like a tangled ball of yarn, each string representing a conflicting emotion for that infuriating man.
“This is going to be a long day,” I muttered to my reflection, which looked suspiciously like a startled alley cat that had just lost a fight with a hairbrush. M
