Worse for Better- Book #1 in the WF Series

Chapter 15: The Next Morning

♡  Alaiya's POV:  ♡

The next morning, I wake up next to a different scent than usual. Usually, I'm awoken by the scent of my washed comforters, but this time, it's by a familiar foresty and minty scent. I feel an arm around my back in a perfect cupping position, and I feel my hand around the same way, caressing his back.

Holy...idiot!

I look up and see his annoyingly perfect face even when he sleeps, and my heart picks up.

I don't even sleep this way with Carson. What kinds of dream was I having to make me do this?

His chest is pressing against my breasts, and my head is laying on his upper-chest like a pillow. The minute I'm about to look up again to glance at his face, his eyes begin to open up slowly and meet mine. We both realize what we're doing and both turn the other way and scoot over at a rapid speed. My face is on the epitome of burning because of how hard I'm blushing, and my entire body is having a weird sensation of fluttering traveling inside of it. The awkward silence doesn't help either, and my mind feels as if it's twirling around in circles over and over again.

"I'm gonna go shower." He clears his throat before standing up.

I hum an 'okay' as I hear the bathroom door in complete quietness. Right as I hear the clicking noise of the lock, I put my hands over my face while laying down to scold myself at what just happened.

Carson's going to kill me.

I don't even remember falling asleep rather than us holding each other. All I remember, is his hand removing a curl from my face, and me fearing for my life because I thought he was going to hit me. Thank goodness it was dark so he probably didn't see me flinch.

I look out the window and see the dark clouds pushing out the sharp rain to the ground still. The thunder is constant and the lightning thankfully has stopped. Or at least isn't near us anymore. I would focus on the my favorite type of weather, but one question that crossed my mind a million times when I woke up last night and will not leave my paranoid mind alone still, is repeating in my head constantly. I didn't ask it last night because I didn't think it was true, but there's still doubt covering my brain so I have to question the possibility.

It could've happened.

~~~~

I finish brushing my teeth with one of the extra toothbrushes the hotel supplied after my shower. I already washed my hair last night so I only had to wash my body today. My hair is still wet but has stopped dripping at least. Since my mom has very thick curly hair, I got kind of the same, except my dad also passed down his thin hair to me, so my hair didn't turn out exactly like my mom's, though I wish it would have. She is the most beautiful woman I've ever met and literally anyone who passes by her could agree. My dad always questioned how he got her in his life. All my friends back in high school would be so surprised that I was even her daughter considering how pretty she was. She was the most popular person in her high school and also won a couple of pageants when she was young. My mom knows that she's beautiful too, which is what makes her even more perfect. She's basically a walking model of perfection. Let's just say she wasn't as excited when she found out that I didn't want to follow in her footsteps and be the next Emery Storm. I really wanted to do the things she did and make her proud, but I don't have the confidence, the body, or the face that made her, her. She didn't really pass down the perfect gene to me.

My dad wasn't the most...amazing father figure when I was young, but when he got sober, he supported me not wanting to follow my mom's footsteps. It took her time to get used to it, and I'm still waiting for when she does. She still sends me the locations of the pageants and the dance studio she worked at, and every time I have to tell her the same "I'm good" response. Does that stop her though? Heck no.