Tazz
The next morning, I woke up in my own bed, the familiar sunlight streaming through windows of my apartment. Toni was sprawled on the couch in my living room, her red dress replaced by one of my oversized T-shirts and her hair a messy bun.
We’d crashed here after the motel, too exhausted to do anything but pass out. I shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing my eyes as the smell of coffee already filled the air.
“Morning, sunshine,” Toni called, her voice bright and playful as she sipped from a mug. “You look like you got ran over by a train, or hit by a truck. A sexy truck, though.”
I snorted and poured myself a cup, still dizzy from last night. “Thanks. I feel like it too. Last night was… what the hell even was that?”
She grinned, kicking her feet up on the coffee table. “Insane. Hot.
