Chapter 1: The Morning After The Curse
I woke with a groan that didn’t sound familiar. Blinking, I sat up and felt something heavy shift on my chest. A curtain of dusty blonde hair slid across my face, catching the pale morning light. I stared at it. My hair had been short. Practical. The kind of crop you could run your hand through after a helmet came off.
This was long. Soft. It smelled like the flowers.
My hand shot up to grab it, and I saw my fingers. Slender. I watched them curl around the blonde strands, and my brain stuttered, refusing to connect the image to me.
My breathing grew erratic and my hand rose to my chest, but what I found wasn’t my toned pecs. I looked down. Two full, heavy breasts hid beneath my bed sheet.
“No,” I whispered, and my voice was higher. Softer. The wrong pitch.
I lunged for my phone on the nightstand. My hand slipped, the movement off balance, and I pitched forward, tangling in the sheets. The floor met me hard. A sharp jolt shot up through my palms, and I snarled a curse that came out like a gasp.
I scrambled up. The mirror on my closet door caught me, and I froze.
A stranger stared back. Wide blue eyes and plush pink lips parted in panic. High cheekbones. A smooth, flawless complexion. And that body. An hourglass curve of breasts and hips and soft stomach that I knew, with a sickening certainty, belonged to me.
I touched my face. The stranger touched hers.
The door creaked open. “Renner, da fuck man, it’s too early. Why you makin—”
My roommate, Dave, stood in the doorway, rubbing his face, his shaggy dark hair a mess from bed head. He was barely awake, yet the moment he saw me a woman with only his roommate’s boxers on—boxers that barely covered her rear—he stood at full attention.
“Shit,” he said with a cheesy smirk. “That asshole leave you all alone, baby?”
I opened my mouth, but the words tangled in my throat. My voice was wrong. Everything was wrong. Dave took a step closer, his eyes dragging down my body with a lazy familiarity that made my stomach turn.
"Dave, it's me," I said. The pitch cracked, too high, too soft. "It's Alex."
He laughed. "Yeah, sure, babe. And I'm the pope." He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "Look, I don't know what you did to get Renner to bail, but you're welcome to crash. He's an asshole anyway."
I shook my head, my hair swinging across my face. "No, listen. I'm Alex. I swear. Something happened. I woke up like this."
Dave's smirk faltered. He squinted at me, head tilted. "That's a weird bit." He scratched his jaw, then shrugged. "Okay, funny. Good one. But you don't have to pretend. I'm not gonna judge."
He stepped into the room, close enough that I could smell his stale sleep breath. My body tensed instinctively, a new reflex I didn't understand. I backed up, and my hip bumped the edge of the desk. A textbook slid off and hit the floor with a dull slap.
"Easy," Dave said, reaching out. His hand brushed my shoulder, and I flinched. "Renner, couldn’t even be bothered to leave you an old jersey or something, huh?" He tugged at the hem of the boxers I still wore. "He doesn’t deserve girls like you.”
I shoved his hand away. "Stop. I'm serious."
But my voice came out breathy, and Dave's grin widened. He didn't hear the warning. He saw permission.
His hand closed around my wrist, and he pulled me closer. My bare chest pressed against his, and I felt the heat of his skin through his thin t-shirt. I went rigid.
"Let go of me," I said, but it came out as a shaky whisper.
"You're cute when you're feisty," Dave murmured, his other hand sliding to my hip. "Renner always picks 'em well."
I twisted, trying to break free, but my new center of gravity betrayed me. My hip bumped the desk again, and I stumbled sideways. Dave's grip tightened, keeping me upright, and his eyes dropped to my chest.
"Seriously, Dave. I'll scream."
He laughed, low and confident. "Scream all you want. Coach Dunn will be pissed you’re here past curfew. You think he's gonna believe some random girl over his star linebacker?"
My blood ran cold. Coach Dunn. The thought of him, broad shouldered and stern faced, seeing me like this sent a jolt through my chest. But it also sparked something else. A lifeline.
"Fine," I said, my voice steadier now. "Call him. Call Coach Dunn. Tell him I'm here."
Dave's brow furrowed. "What?"
"Tell him Alex Renner left a girl in his room. He'll come." I held his gaze, forcing my voice to stay even. "Trust me. He'll want to see this."
Dave hesitated. His grip loosened, just a fraction. I saw the calculation in his eyes, the confusion warring with curiosity. He wanted to call my bluff.
But I wasn't bluffing.
"You're weird," he muttered, releasing me. “No wonder Renner bailed on you instead of sticking around to kick you out properly"
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. My legs trembled beneath me. I grabbed the desk for support, watching Dave head to the door.
“Get dressed and get out, otherwise I really will call the coach.”
Dave left and I didn’t waste time grabbing sweats and an old jersey to throw on. Dave won’t listen—and I can’t blame him, I wouldn’t believe it either if it was the other way around—but coach… Coach Dunn might actually hear me out and so I headed right to his office after getting dress.