Realize (COMPLETED)

5.

Jennie

I'm floating on a cloud, literally.

When did this lumpy ass motel bed get this comfortable? Usually, I'm tossing and turning all night, the springs digging painfully into my back, desperate for a position that might actually allow me to sleep. But now? No lumps, no springs, no more searching for that elusive sweet spot. I slowly open my eyes, emerging from one of the most restful sleeps I can remember. And then it hits me. The walls look different. Instead of the usual shitty green peeling paint, I'm surrounded by a soft blue hue that feels strangely calming.

Okay, so the bed feels different, the walls are different, and even the air carries a fresh, clean scent. Did I just step into some kind of alternate reality? Where the hell am I?

As I sit up and take in my surroundings, a vague memory flickers in my mind. A memory of getting into a car with someone.

A woman...

A sexy woman...

Then this must be her place. I mean, I hope so. If not, someone has some explaining to do. I try to piece together the fragments of the night before. How did I end up here? And what exactly happened? I hope I didn't do or say anything fucking embarrassing? That's definitely something I would do. As I glance around, half-expecting to see her next to me, I can't shake the feeling that something isn't right.

"Good morning." That voice—smooth and sultry—sends delightful tingles down my spine. I turn my head toward the bedroom door and catch sight of the sexiest thing on legs, a vision of beauty holding a tray piled high with the most mouthwatering food I've seen in forever.

Is she really bringing me breakfast? I must have done something right to earn this kind of treatment. "I hope you slept well," she says, effortlessly setting down a plate loaded with fluffy pancakes, golden eggs, crispy bacon, and perfectly toasted bread, accompanied by a tall glass of fresh orange juice. My mouth waters instantly. After days of living off cheap candy and snacks, this spread feels like an unexpected treat. Without hesitation, I dive into the meal, completely disregarding how I must look—hair a mess, clothes wrinkled. I'm starving, and a hot meal is a rare luxury when you're just two dollars away from being dirt poor.

"Who are you?" I manage to ask, my mouth half full of savory bacon.

She beams at me, and I swear, the sunlight streaming through the window seems to brighten even more. "I'm Lisa."

Lisa. The stunning woman who swooped in and saved me from getting tangled up with those idiots, Dumb and Dumber. I can only hope she knocked a little sense into them—maybe even broke a few jaws!

"That's an old lady name," I blurt out before I can think better of it.

Her smile widens, and I can't help but clench my legs together as she laughs. She's so hot!

"Well, my full name is Lalisa. I was named after my father's mother," she explains, her tone playful. "I hope you like the food. I, uh, haven't cooked much lately, but I can whip you up something else if—"

"No, this is perfect. It's actually incredible." I take a bite of the pancakes, and it feels like a slice of heaven melting on my tongue. I practically inhale the rest of my plate, savoring every single bite.

"So, you're Jennie?" she asks, settling into a decorative chair by a large window, her eyes sparkling as she watches me devour my breakfast. I know my behavior isn't exactly ladylike, but honestly, who cares?

I pause, suddenly cautious. "How do you know my name?"

I didn't tell her. Rule Numero Uno: Never tell the assholes who you really are. If they're the stalking kind, they think it is okay to ask questions.