“Okay, Mr. Mysterious Book Dude,” you call as you climb into the covers. “It’s very late. That means I need to sleep, which meansyouneed to find something silent and not-creepy to do for the next eight or more hours, otherwise I’ll be cranky. Unlessthis is all a dream—in which case, cool. I guess this is where we part ways.”
He doesn’t respond.
Just keeps opening and closing your kitchen cabinets.
Hopefully that means he’s putting things away, not actively advancing his one-man kitchen invasion.
You’re not exactly expecting to fall asleep the moment you lie down. After all, there’s a strange—and strangely handsome—man currently turning your tiny kitchen into a full-blown buffet. But as soon as your head hits the pillow, you’re out.
If you dream, you don’t remember what about.
Next thing you know, bright, early afternoon light is streaming through the windows above your head. Yep. Afternoon.
Not only did you sleep instantly, you slept soundly. And for a long time.
You groan, rolling over.
Your bed isn’t big. It’s a full, so at least it’s bigger than a twin. But it’s still not exactly the kind of space you can wake up next to a six-foot-something dude and not be touching.
So when you roll over and whack your arm into something very solid and warm, you yelp in surprise.
“And here I thought you’d sleep until sunset,” rumbles a low voice beside your ear.
You leap out of bed, nearly yanking the covers with you.
Hot Book Guy just stares lazily at you from where he rolls over onto his side, propping himself up on one arm. He’s lying there on top of the covers, and suddenly you get the horribly embarrassing feeling he was watching you sleep.
Speaking of embarrassing: Your tiny panda bear crop top and shorts set feels even more ridiculous in the daylight.
But if Mysterious Hot Guy thinks so, it’s hard to tell. Is that a look of amusement on his face, or does helikewhat he sees? Because he sure is letting his gaze linger.
“Hey!” You stalk back over to the edge of the bed, folding your arms over the panda bear face and glaring down at him. “What happened to thenot creepypart of my instructions?”
He just shrugs lazily with one arm, still propped-up on the other. Bright morning light streams in through the windows at your back.
Wow. He’s even more handsome in the daylight.
You could get used to waking up this way.
Wait, wait, wait!
What are you doing having these thoughts!?
You still don’t even know if he’s actually hot, or if this is just some sort of magical trickery like a fae glamour. You don’t even knowwhathe is, strange as that sounds. Or what his name is, for that matter.
You shake your head, rubbing your hands over your eyes to wipe away the lingering sleep.
“Nevermind,” you grumble, grabbing your phone from the nightstand to see what time it is.
Oof. It’s past two.
And there’s a text waiting from your best friend. It’s from five hours ago.
Corrine:Hey. He said he’ll pick you up at seven. Still good, right?
Oh, crap. Good thing you didn’t wake up any later or you’d still be groggy by nightfall.
You’d totally forgotten. It’s your day off, and your friend set you up on a blind date. This guy is some friend of a friend of hers or something like that.
