OUT OF THE RED ↝ dave grohl

ninety-one.

a/n - i'll just get this out of the way now — this chapter is just one whole helping of soft-core porn, lol. for my readers who aren't down with that, i figured i'd give you a fair warning in advance. i've been reading julia quinn's Bridgerton series and idk, i think all those sex scenes sparked something within me... anyways, this is wildly unprofessional. proceed onwards

CURTAINS. WHY THE hell did this luxurious, grandiose hotel suite that was shot twenty stories high into the air not have curtains?

The sun was beaming through the immense glass windows and right onto Reagan. She turned over sleepily, wrinkling her nose when she felt the hot bath of sunlight drenching her through the comforter swaddled around her body. It was impossible that the sun could be that high in the sky already. It couldn't be any later than eight in the morning. For as early as she'd gone to sleep, she didn't need more than eight hours of shut-eye. At least she hadn't thought she did when her head had hit the pillow.

She sat up and messed her hair, trying not to grumble. Dave was still passed out, sprawled onto his stomach with both arms tucked beneath a pillow. The digital alarm clock on the pale wooden nightstand closest to Reagan told her that it was a quarter past ten.

Her eyes bugged. Ten? In the morning? Had they really slept that long?

Dave's need for that kind of sleep, she understood. But in her case, it had been slovenly to sleep in so late, especially when her body was hardwired to rise at the ass crack of dawn for either work or attending to a beckoning Gracie.

Maybe the flight to Honolulu had worn her out more than she'd thought. Or worse, maybe she had to confront the truth that she hadn't been sleeping well since last summer. Her and Dave's first night in Hawaii had eased all the tautness in her circadian rhythm, lulling her into a long sleep that she hadn't had in months.

Reagan flexed her shoulder blades backwards, working out the tight kinks knotting her muscles. She'd fallen asleep with Dave's arm thrown around her and hadn't moved from that spot for the rest of the night. Now, her body was paying for it. All of her joints had gone rigid, cracking in protest when she twisted them side to side.

Wide awake, she slipped her legs over the edge of the bed and sat there, peering through the offending windows and out at the expanse of blue sky, smattered with streaky white clouds. It was strange, not being able to see the beach. They might as well have been floating thirty-thousand feet above the ground in an airplane again.

The ostentatious balcony didn't help things. With its perfectly curated, private jungle of plants and crystal clear swimming pool, the real question was who the hell would want to look at the beach when a private oasis lay available only steps away?

Reagan got out of bed carefully, ensuring that she didn't squeak the bed springs (did they even squeak? Or would that have been too offensive to the suite's luxury guests?). She padded over to the windows and noticed a smooth silver handle, indicating that one of the windows was acting deceptively as such. Of course, their bedroom would allow for access onto the balcony as well.

She tugged the door open as quietly as she could, edging it along the tracks before stepping outside. A cool, breezy wind tickled her skin and instinctively, she wrapped her arms around herself. The chill was nothing compared to an icy gray morning in Seattle, but it felt necessary to shield herself from the incongruity in the weather. They were on a tropical island, but here was a wind chill strong enough to raise goosebumps on her arm. It had to have been the elevation of their suite.

She took her time walking across the smooth, wooden deck flooring, examining every blooming flower and bright green plant that had been placed there for her to ogle at. The pool, she had to admit, was kind of cool. It was smaller than your average suburban, backyard swimming pool, the kind that Reagan imagined people in Florida had installed, but it was deep and inviting and —she dipped her toes in and raised her eyebrows — heated.