Chapter 227

The next morning, I'm rudely awoken by the sound of a bus horn outside my window. Groaning, I pull a pillow over my head to quiet the noise. A few moments later, there's a knock on the door, and I'm forced to get up anyway.

Miranda's still peacefully passed out on the couch, snoring, and Dad's left for a doctor's appointment. I'd intended on going with him, but he didn't wake me up. Part of me wonders if he doesn't want me to know how bad things are getting.

“This better be good,” I grumble, rubbing at my sleep-crusted eyes and throwing the front door open.

My eyes widen, and a small squeak escapes my lips. Fuck.

This'll teach me to check the peephole for, like, murderers and stuff. That is, murderers and tatted rock star boys.

“Whoa there, Working Girl, are you rocking duckie pj's?” Zayd asks, throwing out this devilish little grin as he pinches the shoulder of my pajamas and then leans in for a kiss.

I'm so shocked to see him, and embarrassed as