Lana’s POV

Waking up, Drake had his arm draped over my waist. I get up swinging my legs over the side of the bed, Drake falling forward with a groan as I moved. Getting up, I rummage through the drawers. I grab a pair of tights out and one of Tate’s shirts. I slip them on and pull my hair in a bun, hoping Tate was in a better mood today. Walking downstairs, I find he wasn’t even here.

Drake sleepily walking down the stairs before sitting at the table and placing his head on it, tiredly as he yawned.

“What time is it?” He asks as I flick the...