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Coward
When I woke, my body ached with the abuse I had given it over the past few days. I was now regretting not giving myself the chance to recover properly. The hard ground hadn’t exactly made the best bed.
Blake was next to me, his eyes cautious until he noticed me peeking at him.
“Morning,” he said awkwardly, as he pulled himself away and sat a few inches behind me.
I rolled over on the grass so the view of the lake was visible behind him. He looked uncomfortable.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. I couldn’t look at him. I was such a coward. I was afraid of the flush that I could feel creeping into my cold cheeks. It wouldn’t be hard to miss.
Having him sleep next to me had resulted in the best night sleep I had had since, well, the last time I had slept in his bed. My face flushed hot at the memory.
I pulled my hair out of my long messed up braid and brushed my fingers through it to get out the tangles. It was a goo
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