Mia
For the first time in days, I actually slept. When I got back to Brad’s last night, I slipped straight under the covers. The softness of them, along with the cloud-like pillow, knocked me out instantly.
So when my alarm went off at five, I didn’t want to move. It took me a moment to remember where I was. The room was still dark, unfamiliar but safe.
With a yawn, I climbed out of bed, still wearing the shirt Brad lent me. Since I never went to my mother’s for clothes, I’d just thrown yesterday’s outfit into the washer.
Someone will probably ask why I’m wearing the same thing again. They’ll probably assume I spent the night out drinking.
Still rubbing my eyes, I wandered into his kitchen in search of orange juice or milk—only to walk straight into the sight of Brad, shirtless, drink
