Things were a little awkward in the morning. I remembered to put in my contact lenses and slung up my hair in the kind of messy style that hid the fact it wasn’t naturally the beachy-waves I wore it in as part of my disguise.
I expected to find him sat at the table eating cereal or sat watching the TV on the couch.
He was on the couch - but he was still fast asleep.
His lip looked loads worse than it had done the night before; it was swollen now, and shades of deep violet and blue from the painful-looking bruise that had had time to develop overnight.
He still looked gorgeous, but I had no idea just how bad it was when he turned up at the door as if there was nothing wrong at all.
At least Brooke had been able to do something to help, even if it wasn’t much. And the fact he was still
