Micah's plan for touring the company was completely put on hold, though not by his own choice. By the time he finally woke up, the sky outside the tall windows had already gone dark, the faint glow of city lights blinking through the glass like distant stars. Whatever fun idea he had carefully planned earlier in the day had clearly been ruined beyond repair.
Lying groggily on the bed, Micah blinked several times, his lashes fluttering sluggishly as his brain struggled to catch up with reality. His thoughts were slow and foggy, drifting aimlessly for a moment. Where was he? The unfamiliar ceiling above him and a cool, refined scent lingered in the room, adding to his confusion.
Then he shifted slightly, trying to sit up and push himself off the mattress. That was the exact moment the pain hit him. His waist and inner thigh screamed in protest the instant he moved, sharp and merciless, like his muscles had declared open rebellion against him.
