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she wakes up with a clearer head the next morning.

jack lays on his back with and arm draped across her midsection and his head facing the opposite direction, and she slides out from underneath him and sighs. she watches him sleep for a moment, his chest rising and falling at a steady pace. she always liked when he was sleeping because she knew that's when he feels the most relaxed.

sierra catches herself smiling and fixes her face. she goes into the bathroom and quietly closes the door behind her. she looks at herself in the mirror—her wild hair and lightly bruised neck standing out. gingerly, she touches at her neck and sighs.

starting the shower, she gets undressed while the water heats up and then tosses her clothes in the hamper. sierra steps into the shower once the mirror starts to fog, and starts to scrub memories of last night from her skin. her mind floods with thoughts of his hands all over her last night, touching her most sensitive places that responded to him so naturally. it was almost embarrassing how easy it was to tell that she missed him too.

ten minutes later, sierra steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around herself. she exits the bathroom and sees jack still asleep in her bed. he's turned over now on his side, his back facing her.

she quickly gets dressed in a pair of white scrubs goes back into the bathroom to do her hair. sierra hasn't worn a wig in a few days, so her signature style has been a slicked down, low bun with a middle part. it looks neat and nice underneath the nurses cap that she's required to wear, and doesn't shed as much.

after she's finished, she grabs her bag and shoes before heading downstairs to make herself a quick breakfast, jack still asleep in her bed.

entering the kitchen, she sighs as she sees the two wine glasses and the bottle of rose that got left out last night. images of jack kissing her in places that haven't been touched in so long flood her memory, and she bites her bottom lip. it was wrong to let him take her home, and then to invite him in. but she doesn't necessarily regret it—just knows that she shouldn't have done it.

sierra puts the wine back and cracks two eggs and mixes them in a bowl before adding her seasoning. she then puts a pan on the stove and sprays cooking oil in it and waits for it to heat up.

the floorboards creak and she turns her head just as jack produces himself around the corner, rubbing his eyes. his hair sticks up in every direction and he wears nothing but a pair of boxers. jack gives her a lazy smile as he enters the kitchen and opens her fridge like it's his own and starts rummaging around for orange juice.

"you hungry?" she asks him, turning back to the stove.

"nah," he says, grabbing the orange juice and one of the glasses that got left out last night. he pours it into the cup before taking a long drink and finishing it in two gulps.

jack comes up behind sierra and hugs her at the waist and kisses her neck, one of his hands on her ass. sierra shrugs him off her and he backs up but doesn't let go, his eyebrows furrowed. "excuse me," she says, moving the pan to the other burner and pulling herself out of his arms. she avoids eye contact with him as she grabs a plate from a neighboring cupboard.

sierra transfers the eggs onto a plate and eats standing up, her eyes on the clock. jack leans against the opposite counter and studies her. "what time are you off?" he asks.

"five," she says, scarfing down the last two bites of food and setting her plate in the sink. she rinses it off and dries her hand on a towel.

"aight," he says, watching her run around the kitchen and grab her bag off of the dining room chair. she quickly changes her shoes and tosses her slippers underneath the table.

rambo / j. harlowWhere stories live. Discover now