Page 136 of Dead Pretty

Stop.

Sighing, I sit down on the sofa. I look at the book on the coffee table. It has been so long since I read a book.

I have been too busy with—

Nope.

I put my glass of water down and pick the book up. I open it up. The words on the page blur into one.

“Great. I can’t even read now.” I slap the pages of the book together and toss it onto the coffee table.

And knock the glass of water over.

“Shit!”

The water is running off the table onto the floor.

Just fucking great.

Righting the now-empty glass, I jog to the kitchen and grab the paper towels from the cupboard.

Taking it back with me, I stare down at the mess.

It’s everywhere.

Fuck my life.

Bending down, I start mopping up the water.

I didn’t know a glass could hold so much damn water.

I’m on my hands and knees, mopping the floor up.

Christ.

It’s gone under the sofa.

I slip a hand under, trying to wipe it dry, but it’s run too far for me to reach.

I’m going to have to move the sofa.

Ugh. I really should have stayed in bed.

I put my hands on the base of the sofa and give it a firm shove back. It moves back a bit.

Another shove. It goes back farther this time now that I’ve got some momentum going.

A bit farther back, and I’ll be able to clean this mess up.

One. Two. Three.

I give it a big shove.

It slides back easily.

Bingo.

I grab some fresh paper towels, and on my hands and knees again, I start wiping the water up.