Dear Skylar (Completed)

Chapter 4

This gif is KELLY, I picture Bella Thorne playing her. What do you guys think?

SKYLAR

The sky is dark. Candles are lit all around my bedroom. It's perfect. It's exactly how I imagined loosing it with him. I'm lying in bed wearing only my black lace bra and panties. He bends over me and softly presses his lips to mine. I comb my fingers through his hair grabbing it as he moans in my mouth deepening the kiss. He rubs his right hand on my breast down to my hips. He moves his lips to my ear and nibs on my earlobe giving me chills as a moan escapes my mouth.

"Are you sure?" He whispers in my ear.

"Yes," I breathe.

Gabe lifts his head into lighting view and gazes at me.

"I love you Skylar."

He presses his lips to mine again and moves down to my neck, and I moan and loose myself into him.

I gasp and sit up, waking up from that frightening dream.

Holy shit! I just had a sex dream about Gabe!

But why? I don't feel that way towards Gabe.

Do I?

No! Of course not! I love Ben.

I get up from bed and head to the bathroom. I run over to the sink and splash cold water on my face. Why did I have a sex dream about Gabe? Was it because I saw him yesterday? Why did I have that dream? And why was it so. . . hot? No! I can't think like that. Whatever that dream was it was just that, a dream. The water from the sink didn't work, so I take off my clothes and hop in the shower.

After a twenty minute shower, I change into my baby blue bikini, and put on a pair of denim shorts and my cute white knitted crop top over it. It's summer and I live near the beach, there should be no reason that I don't have on a swimsuit everyday.

The dream is still in my head so I decided to go in the kitchen hoping someone will be up too. When I enter it's just what I expected, no ones up. Figures, I'm the only one who didn't drink last night. They're probably all hungover and trying to sleep it off. I will still never understand why people drink the way they do. Getting hangovers, throwing up, and making a complete ass of yourself does not make alcohol sound appealing to me.

I walk over to the fridge and take out whatever fruit I can find and take it over to the smoothie maker. I grab cup of ice, and pour it in it as well as the rest of the fruit into the machine. I turn it on and it makes a really loud noise as the machine makes my smoothie. That'll wake them up.

"What the fuck!" Right on cue.

Aunt Stacey enters the kitchen, her eyes half open making it clear she just got out of bed. Her make up is all smeared and her hair is a hot mess, but even with all that she's still gorgeous. How is that even fair?

"Turn that shit off!" she yells.

I turn it off. "Sorry," I shrug. I'm not really sorry.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm just making a smoothie," I say, as I pour my delicious concoction into a cup.

"Why the hell are you up so early?"

"It's noon," I point out.

"Exactly! I'm not supposed to be up for another three hours!" Aunt Stacey complains, and I just roll my eyes. This woman seriously needs a hobby, or a job.