KATY'S POV
My eyes flutter open slowly and for a moment, the room is just a blur of shapes and light. I’m lying flat on Braydon’s bed, still naked.
I blink a few times and notice the empty space beside me. He’s not here.
Before I can even call out his name, my gaze lands on a sticky note by the bedside. I squint at the messy handwriting: “Out for practice, baby. Made you omelettes. Greek yogurt and granola too.”
I let out a soft, defeated sigh and slump back into the mattress. Blanket pulled over me, I stare at the ceiling. Ugh. I actually have to get up, eat and function. Why does he always have practice so early? Why can’t mornings just exist for cuddling? My eyes drift to the clock and it’s nine am. It’s not terrifyingly early, but early enough to feel like a punishment.
I lie in
