“RYAN.” Ryan groaned and rolled over. His head felt like an elephant was sitting on it. “It can’t be morning.” He buried his face in a semi familiar pillow. This was why he didn’t take ZzzQuil on a regular basis. He should’ve packed his stupid white noise machine. “Yeah, well, it is.” Yorkie sounded wrong. “Sorry, but you have to get up. Now.” Bleary, Ryan sat up, and a strange, uneasy undercurrent ran through him as he met Yorkie’s gaze. “What’s wrong?” Yorkie ran a hand through his hair. “They traded Nico.”
