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Twenty four

The night passes quickly, and Avery is awoken by knocking on her door, rudely ripping her out of her steamy dream about a not-so-anonymous Alpha.

"Shit," she mutters, stumbling to the door with her eyes half-closed and one of her hands feeling along the walls for direction. The other is tugging her sleep shirt down to make sure it covers her ass.

Unlocking the door, she pulls the door open, yawning widely as she does.

She is greeted by the sight of what could basically be described as a god, who has a wide smirk on his face.

"Morning, Wilcott. You can close your mouth; I wouldn't want you to catch any flies," Roman teases, and Avery shoots him a half-hearted glare.

"Why are you here so early?" She mumbles, rubbing her hand down her face in an attempt to wake herself up a little more.

"To make sure you're ready for our day out," he smiles, "and because the beach cook-out starts in forty minutes, and I thought you might like some warning."

Avery stares at him in surprise, nodding after
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