25
ZAC
Suddenly wide awake, I bolted upright in bed and tried to blink my bearings into focus. The clock said it was nearly eleven in the morning, later than I’d slept in in a long time.
Every muscle in my body groaned in protest, and my swollen, bruised eye—courtesy of Enzo—pulsed painfully.
But the pounding on the front door persisted, so I cursed and stumbled out of bed, immediately stubbing my toe on my nightstand as I went.
“Son of a b***h!”
Hopping around painfully, I found the first pair of jeans I could spot and yanked them on over my boxer shorts as Grace appeared in the doorway.
“What’s going on?” she demanded, in a nightshirt and wearing fuzzy socks with her hair a complete disaster, as I yanked a T-shirt over my head. “What did you do?”
“I don’t know,” I grumbled irrita
