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CROSSED LINES(2).

Jack woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache, his mind foggy from the previous night’s drinks. As he tried to piece together the fragmented memories of the evening, he realized something was off.

The unfamiliar weight next to him on the bed made him freeze. Slowly, he turned his head, his eyes widening in shock as he saw the bare back of a woman lying beside him.

For a moment, he panicked, hoping against hope that this was some kind of mistake or a bad dream. He stared at the back, trying to remember who it could be, but nothing came to mind.

Until when the woman shifted and turned slightly, he caught a glimpse of her face.

"Tasha?" The name slipped from his lips before he could stop himself.

Tasha stirred, stretching like a cat basking in the morning sun, completely oblivious to the shock that was running through Jack’s face. She turned to face him, a lazy smile curling her lips as she saw him sitting up, clutching the quilt around his waist as if it were a shield.

"Good
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