The next day, the sun slowly rose.
The sunlight penetrated through the floor-to-ceiling window, directly striking Charlotte Thompson's face.
The light was blinding; Charlotte was disturbed from her sleep, her discomfort apparent in her furrowed brow.
Fading back in from slumber after a little while, she half-squinted her eyes to adjust to the light. Sitting up supporting herself with her hands, she felt a splitting headache.
Charlotte turned her eyes around, surveying the familiar surroundings. Then she froze.
After a few seconds, it dawned on Charlotte that she was in the confines of her own home.
And specifically in her bedroom.
Last night? Justin Battleson!
With a sudden jolt of realization, she instinctively checked her clothes.
Breathing a sigh of relief once she confirmed there were no signs of disturbance.
Thankfully Justin Battleson had behaved like a gentleman, and not taken advantage of the situation.