Deanna felt weird. Heavier. The back of her neck was cold. She blinked awake and squinted at the wall she was facing. Was it a different color than it had been when she fell asleep? And hadn’t she been sharing a bed with Sammie after their mother had dropped in unexpectedly? She sat up. Definitely heavier. And slower. What?
She dragged a hand over her face.
That was not her hand. Her face didn’t have stubble. And it wasn’t that wide. What the hell? What the hell?
Slowly, Deanna moved her hands over her head: hair shorter, face wider, jawline… Broader shoulders. Chest? She dared look down as her palms made contact with a plain of muscle that was more akin to what she preferred in a guy than what was a part of her own body. She flung the motel comforter off (that was definitely different than the one she’d