My Hired Boyfriend (Completed)

17. Strippers and Cotton Candy

17. Strippers and Cotton Candy

            By the time I wake up, my eyes feel like they’re glued shut.

            Yawning, I flinch, somewhere in between the line of sleep and wake. Even with my eyes closed, the bright sun was still filtering through, lighting everything in red hues.

            Oddly, the bed felt comfortable-warm even.

            Opening my eyes, I glance over to my left where the empty sheets are rumpled.

            Coda was nowhere to be found.

            Sighing softly, I sit up groggily.

            Even though he said he forgave me, I couldn’t stop the guilt I felt.

            No matter how many times I justified myself by saying that it was in my right to request a contract, the instant his hurt face popped into my head-all bets were off.

            I felt terrible.

            Now obviously, Coda wasn’t a girl but I wouldn’t put it past him to hold a grudge like a hormonal girl on her period whose craving chocolate.

            Maybe he said it was okay even though he was still mad….

            I groan, slamming a pillow over my head. Why was this so complicated?

            If this is what guy had to go through during the morning after fight, than I pitied them.

            The faint smell of rosemary and cinnamon still cling to the pillows, my scent infusing with his.

            Oddly, the mixing smells were comforting…natural even.

            Muffled by the pillow, the sound of pots clanging and voices drift from downstairs, reminding me of where we were.

            The only place Coda could find so late in the evening was this little inn.

            Of course, going into an inn with no customers seemed like a shady thing to do but I was too tired to even complain.

            All I wanted was a bed and a toilet and if this inn had those two things, I was a happy camper.

            Flipping the pillow off of my face, I take a moment to study the quaint room.

            With vines of flowers painted onto the walls, mahogany furniture pushed to the side, the room looked cozy.

            Small, but cozy.

            When I move to push the covers off of me, I end up knocking something to the floor.

            Stopping down to pick it up, I realize it’s my book.

            Fingering the worn cover, I flip onto a random page.

            I stare at the page, my mind whirling.

            What the heck?

            Drawn onto the corner- the only space where I hadn’t littered my writing onto- there’s a picture of two stick figures by a cliff.

            The stick figures were simple- preschool level- so I assumed the stick figure with long hair was the girl and the bald stick figure was the guy.