I wake the next morning feeling like someone other than me. I don’t know how many hours I’ve slept, but regardless, I slept…straight through. Not a single nightmare plagued my slumber. Nor did I wake up in a cold sweat.
Stretching, I c***k open one eye, freezing suddenly when my impaired vision reveals I’m in a foreign room. The walls are painted an eggshell white, accenting the beige and brown tones. Snapping my head from left to right, both eyes are now open as I observe the simple, yet stylishly furnished room.
Where the hell am I?
“Morning.”
I shoot up in bed, pressing the sheet to my thumping chest. Jude stands in the doorway, sheepishly holding a cup of coffee. He’s dressed in the same T-shirt I remember seeing him in, but now he’s wearing black sweats instead of jeans. The sun f
