Right Number, Wrong Girl

I’d never felt this comfortable in my entire life.

That scared me.

A lot.

***

I shifted, stretching my legs right out. Man, it felt so good to do that, and I kept the stretch in place until my muscles felt as though they were going to cramp up instead.

Stupid muscles.

There was nothing better than a stretch after a hard sleep. I could barely remember getting home last night, but I knew Hugo had been the one responsible for bringing me back.

Hugo.

Shit.

I’d fallen asleep in his arms.

In my bed.

What if he’d fallen asleep? I was almost afraid to look, so I crept one hand out to the other side of the bed and felt for him.

Nope.

Nothing.

I opened my eyes and rolled my head to the side. He was gone, but there was a sheet of paper on the pillow with my name scrawled on top.

I sat up and unfolded it.

Phone died. Woke at 5 and went home, text me when you’re ready, and I’ll come and get you.

I was not going to wait until I was ready to leave.

He stayed here until five? Oh, my God. How was I supposed to explain that? How was he? There was no explaining that.

My phone wasn’t in the bedroom, and I was wearing the same things I’d fallen asleep in last night. Wonderful. This day was going terribly.

I located my phone in the kitchen and picked it up. It only had four percent battery, so I took it back through the bedroom and plugged it in, then checked my notifications.

CAMILLA: Did you send the email?

Shit.

ME: Sorry. In my drafts. Give me an hour.

I winced at the lie and pulled up my chat with Hugo.

ME: YOU FELL ASLEEP HERE????

ME: YOU DINGBAT

I also needed to get out of these clothes. A shower had to be my next mission. I felt gross and icky, and absolutely none of the stress I’d felt yesterday had disappeared in any way, shape, or form.

I soaked under a hot shower for far too long, then wrapped myself in two towels and went back to my phone.

HUGO: I was tired!!!!