think.”
They continued to talk while Scruffy continued to sleep. When Charisma interrupted herself, again, with a big yawn, she checked her watch.
“Goodness,” she breathed. “I didn’t realize how late it was.” She rubbed her eyes. “I’ve never needed sleep so much in my entire life.” She wasn’t sure she was exaggerating. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept more than a few hours at a time, the last time she hadn’t woken up practically screaming and drenched in sweat and needing to turn on every light and check every cabinet. “It’s almost four. I’ll bring out the pillows and comforter for you.”
Jared was about to object, but was also interrupted by a yawn. He had to stop doing this. Every time he came to this woman’s house he ended up sleeping on the sofa. And, if he remembered correctly, regretting the experience for the next few days, rubbing stiff muscles and taking pain killers. Of course, that also could have something to do with the pot, which thankfully hadn’t been an experience he’d been forced to revisit. He wondered, for just a moment, as Charismas returned to the sofa laden with linens, if her bed was more comfortable. He shook his head. He must really be needing sleep, too.
He accepted the linens and set to fix his poor excuse for a bed, trying not to notice as Charisma slipped into the background and quiet and darkness started to stretch out across the house, outside early-morning dawn was starting to push back the night, all safely hidden from the sleeping house by the thick comforters and tattered sheets.
~*~
When Charisma woke, sunlight peaked in from beneath the blankets on her windows and Scruffy was curled up at the foot of the bed, still looking perfectly healthy. She would never win an Oscar, but she had done well enough that Charisma hadn’t had to spend another night alone in a house that was suddenly too big and with a dog that didn’t seem to know how to be aggressive. She stretched and slid out of bed, the wood floor comforting on her bare feet. If she could wake up every morning feeling so comfortable and safe, she would be the happiest person in the world. But recently, this had become a luxury.
Jared was still sleeping, sprawled out on the sofa bed, his jeans flung over the chair she’d been sitting in the night before. The white of the sheet seemed stark against his healthy tan. The comforter he had probably fallen asleep wrapped in was crumpled on the floor. Charisma busied herself in the kitchen, putting on water and trying to pull together breakfast, being as quiet as she could so Jared could continue to sleep. They could have gone to sleep earlier. In fact, Charisma was ready to hit the sack when Jared walked in the door, but somehow felt it would be inappropriate to say, ‘Thank God, you’re here. Take the couch, I need to catch some shut eye.’ If she was going to do that, the very least she could do was offer the man a lap dance, and frankly, she never wanted to do one of those again.
The eggs were scrambled and the toast was toasting when Jared finally stirred on the couch.
“Morning,” Charisma said from the hall. “Breakfast is almost ready. Help yourself to some tea, or juice.”
Jared pushed back the sheet and tugged on his jeans, the worn cotton sliding over his thighs to settle comfortably on his hips. The heady smell of breakfast wafted in the air and made him realize how hungry he was. He smiled as Charisma reappeared from the hallway, dressed in an oversized button down splattered with old paint stains and jean cut-off shorts. “Morning,” he said.
She smiled at him. “I thought you’d want some breakfast. I’m sorry I kept you up so late last night.”
He stretched, the expanse of his muscles playing beneath his t-shirt. “Not a problem. I’m glad Scruffy seems to be doing well this morning.” He looked pointedly at the dog, already snuffling around the kitchen floor, looking for
They continued to talk while Scruffy continued to sleep. When Charisma interrupted herself, again, with a big yawn, she checked her watch.
“Goodness,” she breathed. “I didn’t realize how late it was.” She rubbed her eyes. “I’ve never needed sleep so much in my entire life.” She wasn’t sure she was exaggerating. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept more than a few hours at a time, the last time she hadn’t woken up practically screaming and drenched in sweat and needing to turn on every light and check every cabinet. “It’s almost four. I’ll bring out the pillows and comforter for you.”
Jared was about to object, but was also interrupted by a yawn. He had to stop doing this. Every time he came to this woman’s house he ended up sleeping on the sofa. And, if he remembered correctly, regretting the experience for the next few days, rubbing stiff muscles and taking pain killers. Of course, that also could have something to do with the pot, which thankfully hadn’t been an experience he’d been forced to revisit. He wondered, for just a moment, as Charismas returned to the sofa laden with linens, if her bed was more comfortable. He shook his head. He must really be needing sleep, too.
He accepted the linens and set to fix his poor excuse for a bed, trying not to notice as Charisma slipped into the background and quiet and darkness started to stretch out across the house, outside early-morning dawn was starting to push back the night, all safely hidden from the sleeping house by the thick comforters and tattered sheets.
~*~
When Charisma woke, sunlight peaked in from beneath the blankets on her windows and Scruffy was curled up at the foot of the bed, still looking perfectly healthy. She would never win an Oscar, but she had done well enough that Charisma hadn’t had to spend another night alone in a house that was suddenly too big and with a dog that didn’t seem to know how to be aggressive. She stretched and slid out of bed, the wood floor comforting on her bare feet. If she could wake up every morning feeling so comfortable and safe, she would be the happiest person in the world. But recently, this had become a luxury.
Jared was still sleeping, sprawled out on the sofa bed, his jeans flung over the chair she’d been sitting in the night before. The white of the sheet seemed stark against his healthy tan. The comforter he had probably fallen asleep wrapped in was crumpled on the floor. Charisma busied herself in the kitchen, putting on water and trying to pull together breakfast, being as quiet as she could so Jared could continue to sleep. They could have gone to sleep earlier. In fact, Charisma was ready to hit the sack when Jared walked in the door, but somehow felt it would be inappropriate to say, ‘Thank God, you’re here. Take the couch, I need to catch some shut eye.’ If she was going to do that, the very least she could do was offer the man a lap dance, and frankly, she never wanted to do one of those again.
The eggs were scrambled and the toast was toasting when Jared finally stirred on the couch.
“Morning,” Charisma said from the hall. “Breakfast is almost ready. Help yourself to some tea, or juice.”
Jared pushed back the sheet and tugged on his jeans, the worn cotton sliding over his thighs to settle comfortably on his hips. The heady smell of breakfast wafted in the air and made him realize how hungry he was. He smiled as Charisma reappeared from the hallway, dressed in an oversized button down splattered with old paint stains and jean cut-off shorts. “Morning,” he said.
She smiled at him. “I thought you’d want some breakfast. I’m sorry I kept you up so late last night.”
He stretched, the expanse of his muscles playing beneath his t-shirt. “Not a problem. I’m glad Scruffy seems to be doing well this morning.” He looked pointedly at the dog, already snuffling around the kitchen floor, looking for
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