4. Sunglasses and Donuts

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Nicky's POV

I wake up from what's probably the best sleep I've had in a long time, and yet, something's off.

I glance over at the digital clock on the right and notice its almost noon. I stare up at the ceiling for a moment as I wait for the blissful cloud of sleep to clear from my head and I tense up immediately.

The clock was on my left when I went to bed.

I jerk up quickly and let out a gasp of surprise when I realize my right wrist has been handcuffed to the side of the bed. I struggle to pull myself into the seated position, yanking at the cuffs on my wrist as if it'll somehow loosen them.

I look frantically around the room but can't make out much detail since I don't have my glasses on. The only thing I am able to say for certain is that this is not the room I fell asleep in.

It's bigger, it's brighter and the walls are an entirely different color.

I move so I'm seated on the edge of the bed, and notice my glasses sitting next to the digital clock. Really the only thing I can see somewhat clearly, other than the handcuffs on my wrist is the digital clock.

I slide my glasses onto my face and take a better look around the room.

There's a desk on the far side, a dresser across from the bed I'm which is in the middle of the room, a very colorful rug on the floor, a closet, and another door that probably leads out. There's a large window on one side of the room, which sheer curtains pulled across it, and the walls are a horribly cheery yellow color.

And my backpack is nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, there's the sound of a key being inserted into a lock and the door to the room starts to open. I feel fear start to crawl its way through me, not knowing who's on the other side of the door.

It swings open all the way I find myself letting out a breath I hadn't even realized I was holding as a searing hot anger replaces the fear that was there not long ago.

He stands comfortably in the doorway, his shoulder against it. He's barefoot, a pair of what look to be swimming trunks rest lowly on his hips, an absolutely ridiculous Hawaiian shirt, completely unbuttoned down the front is thrown across his shoulders, showing off his toned and muscled chest, those stupid sunglasses hide his eyes, but there's a rather amused smile splayed across his lips, his hair is tousled in a carefree way, and he's holding half a donut in his hands.

I feel like strangling him.

He just stands there, eating his donut, completely relaxed in the doorway, looking sexy as hell and I want to strangle him even more for it.

It shouldn't be legal for someone to look as good as he does, and I hate him for it. Especially since he knows it too.

I glare at him while he continues to eat his donut.

"Nice hair," He finally says, that stupid smile staying in place.

I feel my face begin to turn red. I don't need a mirror to know my hair looks like a rat's nest. That's how it always looks every time I wake up. And it's totally not fair he looks like he walked out of some modeling catalog while I look some homeless girl picked up off the streets.

I continue to glare at him. "How did you find me?" I ask him, ignoring his previous statement.

He shrugs lazily, finishing off his donut. "I'm just lucky."

"There's no possible way you could have gotten to me that quickly," I tell him.

He shrugs again. "I actually just got here this morning after my flight came in," He says. "I sent my partner to go pick you up the other night before you could try and sneak away again."

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