Warning: NSFW
“Have you seen my brush?” Samantha called from the bathroom.
Her brush? Seriously? “No, I haven’t,” Logan yelled back as he was putting on his watch, standing in the bedroom near his dresser. He kept everything right there in the same place he always did. That way nothing would come up missing.
“Are you sure?” she asked, sounding frantic now.
Logan glanced down to ensure he’d grabbed everything he needed: his wallet, his keys, and his watch. Turning around, he went toward the bathroom to try and help Sam. “We need to leave in a few minutes.”
“I understand that,” she retorted. “But I need to find my brush.”
“Where did you have it last?”
The look she gave him was meant to make him wither into ash and blow away. Logan grinned as he moved around behind her. Clearly, she was stressed. She tended to get that way on Monday. Any Monday, in fact. It was as though for the entire weekend she morphed into a different person – a little more carefree than usual, and on Monday morning she was back to her cute little professional, although somewhat anal-retentive, self, only then she couldn’t seem to find anything she needed.
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