Waking up the next morning, I was surprised to find myself in James’s bed. He didn’t want to let me sleep in that room even though the other guys had told him to leave me be and let me rest; he refused.
I vaguely remember him coming in, grabbing me and the blanket, lifting me in his arms, and carrying me to his bed. He even went as far as changing me out of my clothes and putting me in one of his large oversized T-shirts before crawling in behind me.
Out of the four men, he was the sweetest and the most sentimental.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he whispered from behind me as he pulled me close to his chest and kissed the side of my cheek.
“Morning. I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to lose it on you guys.”
“It’s okay. Don’t even worry about it. Shit happens, and honestly, we dropped the ball when we forgot that you’re not used to our world.” Always apologizing, the ever-sweet James slowly slid from behind me and walked towards the ensuite bathroom.
