Page 104 of Blue

Blue

Hammers. Freaking sledgehammers. A bazillion of them slammed at every damn angle inside Blue’s skull. They had to be trying to escape her head.

She groaned and fluttered her lashes, trying to open her eyes. Her lids were impossibly heavy, and her morning eye gunk kept her vision blurry. Eye boogers and glue—ah, hell, she’d never taken off her false lashes.

The only thing to do was pull the blankets over her head to go back to sleep.

Her full bladder protested.

Wait.

These weren’t her blankets.

This wasn’t her place.

She rocketed up in the bed. A decision she immediately regretted.

It felt like she’d left her brain on the pillow until it slammed back into her skull some three seconds after she sat up. She held her head to ease the hangover and concussion headache.

Blinking rapidly, she cleared her vision. One of her lashes fell, tickling her cheek on the way down. She lost it in the unfamiliar sheets. She had bigger things to worry about.

Scanning the off-white walls, the pile of clothes on the floor, and the dated dresser that reminded her of one she’d seen at her grandmother’s house, Blue caught the sight of herself in the mirror’s reflection. The black vest drew her attention before the lump of a bedfellow beside her.

Oh shit, who took her home?

Her temples throbbed in a dull ache. Fuck, she let some random biker bring her to his place? What the hell was she thinking?

As Blue touched the dark leather and ran her hand along the fresh patch with her nickname stitched on the lapel, it came back.

Her speech about “wrong times,” Mooky on his knees?

The man goton his knees!

Then… oh no…. Oh, dear God… she’d vomited.

She covered her face in a second wave of embarrassment.

At least she knew who took her home. That had to count for something, right? It wasn’t a random fuckboy, at least. She tried to find the bright side of things.

Shaking it off, she tugged the vest off her arms and examined the back. After she laid it out over her legs, she ran one hand over the top rocker which read “Property of.” The other covered her grinning mouth before her fingers traced the letters on the bottom rocker which spelled “Mooky.”

Happy butterflies flapped around inside in her chest, making her heart beat in flutters. The distraction chased the headache away.

“You like it?” he asked in a soft, sleep-laden voice beside her.

Dropping her hands, she lifted the leather to hug it to her chest.

“Yeah,” she admitted while snuggling it. “I’m just surprised. Like, I—I mean. I thought it was a dream.”

He chuckled, laying on his side, propped up on his elbow. The blankets draped over his hips, keeping his tattooed chest exposed as he watched her. He wore an expression filled with affection. His free hand reached for her, cupping her cheek.

“Nah,” he whispered.

She leaned down toward him, offering a soft kiss. His beard tickled her skin—just the way she liked. However, before they could get too into the moment, her bladder fiercely reminded her of why she was awake.

“Hold on,” she said, pulling back. “Where’s the bathroom?”

Falling to his back, he waved a hand. “Out there to the right. It’s the first door on the left.”

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