Side Note - If there is a Sally who is reading this, know that this is purely coincidental and you are a wonderful person unlike the Sally in my story who is inspired by this woman relative of mine who is hell bent on spoiling my vacations =.=
___________________________Tuesday, 08th May. Day 8.
I woke up with a hazy head and a dull ache between my legs. What? When my eyes finally adjusted to the light, I blinked and looked around. Okay, I'm in Ezra's bedroom and... where the hell are my clothes?! I look down to see myself wrapped only in the bed sheet and that's when the events of last night hit me. The laughing, the kissing and oh God, the tearing of the clothes... I inwardly groaned and took my pillow on my face. Congratu-fucking-lations, Clara, you just made yourself another notch in his bedpost.Ezra stirred from my right and I winced. I couldn't face him just yet. Hell, I don't think I'll be able to face him anytime.
"Wake up, Clara." He said in a sleepy voice and I gave him a grunt of acknowledgment. "I need a run, get up." I felt him shift but I still didn't move an inch. How in the hell could I show my face to anyone now? I had no respect for myself, let alone what Ezra must feel about me.
Once I gave myself a pep talk and mentally prepared myself for the worst, I sat up in bed to find Ezra wearing his pants. The lucky bastard's clothes were near the bed while mine were strewn all over the room in pieces. Hence, I glared at him to show my annoyance. "Get. Up." He stressed each word.
"My clothes..." I said sheepishly and gathered the bed sheet tighter around me for some stupid little layer of false protection.
"Nothing there I haven't seen before." He muttered and stood up. I stared wide eyed at his remark. When I too, pulled myself up, I realized he said 'before' and not 'last night'. It hurt me more than it angered me when I realized what he meant was I was just like all his other whores. You put yourself in this position, Clara, don't go feeling all sorry for yourself. My mind retorted and I decided to ignore everything and everyone for once. Might as well just go through the day and see how I can sort this out.
***"I'm so sick of that same old love," I sang and flipped the omelette that was cooking in the pan. "That shit, it tears me up," I cut some tomatoes and shred some herbs and moved my hips from side to side as I continued to sing. "I'm so sick of that same old love," I tossed the omelette in the pan onto a plate and crack two more eggs. "My body's had enough." I slid around, dancing and moving as I prepared breakfast. "Oh oh oh... that same old love." I spun around and prepared my plate. "Oh oh oh... that same old love." When I was done cooking, I placed the omelettes on two separate plates and went to make coffee. "I'm so-"
"Can you please shut up?" A voice boomed from behind me and I jumped and turned around, almost dropping my plate from my hands.
"How long were you there?" I gaped and felt my cheeks boil up. Shit, he heard me sing. Worse, he saw me dance.
"Long enough to know you can't sing." Ezra spoke rather harshly but I knew myself well enough to know that I can sing.
"Well..." I trailed off and both of us stared at each other though neither one of us uttered a word. An awkward silence dawned and while I stood on one side of the island, Ezra was sitting on the other side still wearing his track pants and a shirt that was wet with sweat. I decided to do something I had no idea why I did. "You know what to do with that big fat butt! Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle!" I wiggled my own as I shouted out the words and seconds later, we were both laughing out loud.
"Wh-what?" Ezra asked, still laughing loudly.
"Snoop Dog I think." I answered back when I got myself under control. I placed the plates of food on the island and handed him his coffee and we ate breakfast quietly. Even though I shouldn't have, I admired Ezra's build and wondered how absolutely smokin' he looked even though he was drenched in sweat.
YOU ARE READING
Cuffed by Will
RomanceSpecial thanks to Myea @dissuade for the beautiful cover and everything else you've done for me. When Clara Penn's most closest friend and almost father, Marvin Copper passed away, she thought the funeral would be the last thing she would ever see i...