Page 176 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

I turn over and groan when I’m met with brightness.

With another grunt, I tug the sheets up higher, hiding my face from the morning sun.

My heart continues to ache from the events of the night before, but that’s not the only pain this morning, because my head is pounding.

I shift again, begging my body to get comfortable again so I can get a few more hours of sleep.

I just find a good spot when a loud bang has me sitting upright in bed, the sheets pooling at my waist.

“Sienna?” I slur, clearly still a little wasted.

But despite my hope that she might have somehow gotten inside my apartment, no one replies, and when I look down, I find last night’s empty bottle rolling away from my bed.

“Fuck.” I groan before falling back onto my mattress and closing my eyes again in an attempt to block out the sun.

Apparently, I failed to close my blinds last night, and the sun is punishing me this morning.

Rightly so.

Cracking one eye open, I glance at my nightstand in search of my cell to see if Sienna has messaged me. But it’s not there.

“Fucking hell.” I groan, forcing both eyes open before I begin searching the bed.

I eventually find it on the floor, with only two percent battery left.

My heart lurches with hope as I begin scrolling through my notifications.

It soon sinks again when I don’t find anything from her.

Ignoring everything else, I open our message thread and discover that I sent a message last night.

Calvin: I’m sorry. I should have told you. I know that. I was scared. You’re my girl, Sienna. You always have been. I love you.

“Fucking hell.” I groan, chastising my drunken self.

I mean, nothing I said is untrue. But she didn’t deserve to read it in a drunken message.

The worst part?

She’s read it. She’s read it, and she hasn’t responded.

Dropping my cell to my chest, I close my eyes again. I need to get up and take some painkillers, but before I can convince myself to move, my cell begins buzzing against my chest.

That stupid hope surges again, and I lift it to see Darcy’s name staring at me.

Swiping the screen, I lift it to my ear.

“Killer, where the fuck are you? We had a session scheduled for an hour ago.”

My stomach knots, the weight of letting him down pressing heavily on me.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I can be there in thirty minutes.”

When he doesn’t respond, I pull my cell from my ear and discover nothing but a black screen.

My grip on it tightens as I fight the urge to launch it across the room and watch it shatter against the wall.

Throwing the covers off, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and sit up. My head swims, and I have to take a couple of deep breaths to settle my stomach before putting my cell on charge and getting to my feet.