Gabby
There's a loud beeping interrupting my sleep, my head pounding as I reach for my phone. There aren't many mornings when I desperately want that thing to shut up, but this is one of them. A low moan beside me is a reminder of what Barrett and I did last night. We’ve been doing this more often than we probably should be since the night at Monroe’s at a couple of weeks ago.
"What time is it?" he questions, that sleep-roughened voice spiking goosebumps on my forearms, and neck.
"Five. I have to get ready to go to work. I hate to ask you this, but can you drive me over to my apartment? I need to open the shop. Valentina has no idea how to do it yet." This is one of those times when I wish I could just close for the day, but every day of income is so important to the shop right now. We're close to making it to what I consider the next level in order to get some upgrades.