Dream Girl (Lesbian Stories)

Chapter 11

Aaron's POV

I woke up in a strange bed, not knowing how I had gotten there. When I tried to sit up, I felt something restricting my movements. I looked down to see bandages littering my torso.

I sigh, sitting up higher and looking around. 

It's a large room, larger than one I would associate with the apartment I assume I'm in. The walls were painted a light blue, with little bits of gray. There was a desk in the corner across from me and the door is on my left. There's a wardrobe in the corner. The bed I was sitting on was comfortable, with a gray comforter and blue sheets. 

There were a couple of bags at the foot of the bed that looked relatively unpacked, as if someone had just moved in. It would explain the lack of decorations and photos. 

I finish perusing the room and tune into my hearing. (Shifter hearing really does come in handy.)

I hear what sounds like three women talking not far from the room I'm in.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" One with a slight Texan accent says. The voice sounds familiar, but I can't place it.

"He should be. At least, he shouldn't still be asleep." Another voice answers. This one has an accent as well, but it sounded more New England-ish, like Boston or New York.

"Kota, it's been like four hours. We already know he shouldn't be asleep still." The last voice says, with almost no accent. Her words are clear, though. She enunciated every word perfectly, as if she had been trained to. Even though her words may have sounded condescending, there was an undertone of sarcasm and fondness that made it sound less harsh.

"And how did you come up with that nickname, Mack?" The second voice said, teasingly.

"Dakota's way too long to say every time, Kota." The last voice teases back. I hear a sigh and then a chuckle.

"I know you guys are in honeymoon mode, but please tone it down." The familiar voice says, a joking tone to her voice. 

I huff, getting up, with only a bit of struggle. 

Time to face . . . whoever.

I walk out of the room and follow the voices until I reached another door. I push open the door to see three girls sat around an island in what looked like the kitchen. They don't notice me for a second, giving me time to look at them.

One had long, dark hair and olive skin on the paler side. She had light freckles that you probably wouldn't be able to see unless you were close up. (Shifter eye sight, another advantage.) Her eyes were a pale blue, with bits of green and grey in them. She had dark circles underneath her eyes, that were a mixture of eyeliner and tiredness. She was wearing minimal makeup, only lipstick and eyeliner. Her eyebrows were thicker than the others, but not too thick. She was wearing a pair of black, ripped jeans and a black crop top with a red plaid shirt over it. She looked tall, since she had really long legs. She also had a sort of grace to her, as if she knew what her body could do. I could also see the toned muscles underneath her shirt as well as her legs and arms. Every move she made looked calculated, as if planned and practiced for days, if not weeks, before hand.

The girl next to her had her eyebrows furrowed, most likely out of concerned. Her hair was long as well, but this one's hair was red. Her eyes were a light brown, more hazel than brown, and a little bloodshot, I guess from being tired.  Her makeup was a more natural look, though you could she was wearing some. Her eyelashes were long and almost clumped together with mascara. Her pink lips were pursed with concern. She was wearing a large grey sweater over a white, long-sleeved t-shirt, as well as pastel pink jeans and a colorful scarf. Her fingers were tapping the rim of her glass nervously and her eye kept darting between the other two. She was sitting very close to the dark-haired girl and I could see the dark-haired girl's hand on the redhead's thigh, placed there in comfort, most likely. 

The last girl was sitting diagonal from the other two. She was glancing at the ground and back up every few seconds. Her eyes were a dark brown and were surrounded by thick eyelashes and brown eyeliner. She had natural eyebrows and light eyeshadow. Her lips were a dark red, almost like blood. Her short, blond hair was curled and her hands were fidgeting a bit. Her movements were fluid and graceful. She was wearing a white, cropped sweater with a maroon skirt that had a floral pattern. She was the only one of the girls wearing shoes, brown high-heeled boots. 

After a minute or so, they noticed me.

"Whoa, dude, clothes, please." The dark-haired one said as the redhead looked down. The redhead was blushing. The dark-haired girl moved her hand over the redhead's eyes, as well as her own. The blonde had looked down at first, but recovered quickly. The blonde got up and smacked the dark-haired one on the back of the head.

"Sorry, give me a minute." I say, covering myself and walking back into the room I woke up in. 

MACKENZIE'S POV

It had been a couple of minutes after the wolf guy had walked back into Piper's room when we heard the thud.

"What was that?" I ask, my eyebrows rising in interest. Piper shrugs and we all get up. I move Kota in back of me and nod at Piper right before we barge into her room. 

What we see is surprising, to say the least.