Fighting for Arielle by Sharp Karina

Author:Sharp, Karina [Sharp, Karina]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2014-07-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Arielle

I wake up with the sun shining in my eyes, which is in stark contrast to the typically dark room in which I normally arise. I look around the room to remind myself where I am. I'm in McCrary's house, in McCrary's bed, but with no McCrary. Perplexed, I complete a mental run-through of last night. I am almost positive I fell asleep in his arms. I reach down and feel the same shirt and boxers I was wearing when we went to bed- his shirt and boxers. I look to my right and take in the smell of him on the pillow and sheets. The aroma is intoxicating and heavenly. I sit up in bed and look around the room, which looks the same as yesterday, only I get to observe it a little better and without distraction. The furniture has surprisingly soft lines with a muted color palate like the guest room. Books line the walls, and from my vantage point, I can see many classics and a good number of history books. I wonder what time it is and subsequently wonder why I don’t see an alarm clock. I decide I should either find McCrary or find my purse and keys so I can leave as his absence might be a sign that I should go.

My head is killing me, so I first set off to find a remedy for it. Not bothering to check my hair or attire, I walk to the front of the house where I see McCrary in all of his morning glow glory. He’s in a grey t-shirt that settles on his chest and arms just tightly enough to not be a baby tee, but enough for the wandering mind to think of lots of unlady like things to do with him. He has a few books around him with a yellow note pad in his lap, scribbling away.

I am happy and relieved to see him, but then realize I haven’t even viewed my reflection. I’m sure I look like Medusa on crack.

Sensing I am there, he looks up from his notes and smiles so warmly that I don’t care that I probably look like death warmed over. “Morning, sunshine.”

My throat is dry and raspy. “Morning. You look like you’re working awfully hard on a day that’s supposed to be a day of rest.”

He looks at me in confusion.

“It’s Sunday, isn’t it?”

He places the books and notepad on the side of the couch. “Is that a thing? I don’t think I’ve ever known such a concept.”

I’m sure he probably doesn’t rest much. He seems to be the type to take his work home with him and use any extra time he has working.

“You haven’t? Let me fill you in. On days like this, you’re supposed to lie on the beach, drinking cocktails with little umbrellas in them, and make shapes out of the clouds. After that, you’re supposed to lie in bed, watch TV, snuggle, and eat Velveeta Shells and Cheese.”

He blinks his eyes slowly and places his index finger on his chin.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.