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Roxanne 

I remember every word.

I internally groan as I wiggle myself out of Jaxon's arms - instantly missing his warmth. I'm still wearing my dress from last night and smile as I remember falling asleep with my head in his lap. 

Tiptoeing to the bathroom, I almost cry at how awful when I look in the mirror. All of my makeup is smudged all over my face. One of my eyelashes is missing while the other is just hanging in by a tiny piece of stubborn glue. My foundation is only half remaining - probably because of my terrible habit of sleeping with my arm over my face. 

Sure enough, I have remnants of my makeup all over my arm as well. 

The only thing that still looks flawless is my Stila liquid lipstick. That shit's bulletproof. 

I quickly grab a towel and begin scraping off all my makeup. This is why I don't go full glam. It's way too much work. I probably spend at least ten minutes trying to get my liner off and another ten trying to brush through the rat's nest I call my hair with a tiny thing that I assume Jaxon uses as a comb. I found in one of the drawers. 

Remind me to buy him an actual brush. 

Once I look somewhat presentable, I finish up in the bathroom and then exit the room. Jaxon is now awake, looking down at his phone. 

Wait, that's my phone. 

"Who is Dean?" He asks casually, yet I can see behind his eyes that he is internally raging. 

Yay. 

"Just a guy I work with," I reply. It's not entirely a lie. I do technically work with him. 

"He's been calling off the hook for the past five minutes. He also sent you a message saying 'Where the fuck are you'." He eyes me carefully as he waits for my response. 

"What time is it?" I ask him. I'm late.

"It's twenty after eleven."

"Fuck! Oh my God, he's going to kill me" 

"Who is?" Jaxon asks, confused.

I look around the room for my shoes, finding them in a heap beside the bed. Did I really wear those?

"My brother. I'm late for work again."

"Dean is your brother?" 

"No, he's a guy I work with. My brother is my manager." I say as I pull on the ridiculous heels. "He's a stickler for punctuality - especially when it comes to me. He's always on my ass."

"Why?"

"Because I am always late." I shrug. "But not usually this late."

My phone begins to ring again and I see it's Trevor calling this time. 

"I have to take this. It might get...loud." 

He chuckles and gets out of bed. Planting a kiss on my forehead, he exits the bedroom - leaving me alone to my phone call with Trevor. 

"What the fuck do you want?" I say the second I answer the phone. 

"Really? You are going to be angry with me?" Trevor replies and I know he is rolling his eyes. "Where the fuck are you? Training started an hour and a half ago. This was your fucking idea, eh?"

"I know! I got busy. I-"

"Dean stopped for you at your apartment. You weren't there. So answer the question. Where the fuck are you?"

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