Chapter 23

Chapter 23 Old times – Monet 

oan, my mouth feeling like shit, the taste of rancid beer heavy. Is this the cost of having a good time every single time we decide to drink? Maybe I should stick to the wine coolers, I certainly didn’t feel like this the other morning. 

My eyes fly open when I realise my head is definitely not resting on a pillow. 

Oh no, my head is on a very hard, muscled arm, and at first I think what the hell did I do, but then the subtle smen of crisp apples wafts through my nostrils, and I look up into Cole’s face, his eyes open and burning with something I don’t want to put a name to. 

This is nothing new for me to wake up in his bed. Only this time, we’re no longer kids or innocent young teenagers. 

“Good morning.” He murmurs, his voice deep and gruff from sleep. Instead of pushing me off his arm, he throws his other my waist and snuggles me even tighter, his face in my hair. 

arm over