Chapter 51

Camila's voice was barely louder than a whisper-scratchy and thin, like a kitten mewling. Still, it was enough to wake up Prescott. He wasn't someone who fell asleep easily, but he sure woke up easy-and not in a good mood. Without even opening his eyes, he snapped, "Why are you screaming like a ghost?" Camila was instantly pissed. Seriously? She hadn't even started yelling yet, and this guy had already taken over her bed and gotten all up in her space, and now he had the nerve to scold her? Her pale face flushed like a steamed sandwich fresh outta the pot. She glared at him, fury written all over her tired features. If it had been a normal day, that look might've had some fire. But right now? She just looked like a weak little kitten trying to puff up its fur. Prescott cracked open a pair of sharp black eyes, propped himself up on the bed lazily, and blinked, confused for a second by the unfamiliar environment. Then it hit him-he'd dozed off right on Camila's hospital bed. He scanned h