I wake up with the feeling of Axl's touch all over my body. My heart is pounding.
What in the world. . .
I just had a wet dream about Axl Rose.
Okay, this is embarassing.
I send up a silent thank you to the universe for Michelle not being in the room to see me at a time like this.
I look over at the nightstand. It's a little past nine.
Then, I can't help but lift up the covers, and my pajama pants. Low and behold, there they are. Those same white lace underwear from my dream. The same ones Axl called cute.
"Oh my God." I stare up at the ceiling, letting the band of my pants snap against my skin.
I really just had a dream that Axl and I had sex.
It felt so real. My dreams have always been extremely vivid.
And to make matters worse, it all happened on the same kitchen counter that people are cooking breakfast on right now. I can smell the pancakes.
I roll over, burying my head in the pillows.
I thought last night went well. That we weren't awkward, or flirty. It was just like before. I mean, except for the fact that we weren't mean to each other.
That kiss-well, that makeout-that happened two days ago now was to get Dylan to take a hint. It was not because of any romantic or even sexual feelings.
Why is my body betraying me like this? Does my subconscious know something I don't?
I can't even sit here and contemplate those questions in my head. I have to get up and have breakfast. My hunger outweighs how flustered I am.
I wonder if he would actually like them. They're way sexier than the ones he actually saw. . .
I have to stop! I cannot do this to myself.
"Just go have breakfast, Chas." I have to try and console myself somehow, and talking out loud usually helps. "It's fine. He doesn't know, and he won't unless I tell him. And I won't."
I can do this. I can.
After I fix my hair though.
I realize I'm wildly unprepared when I waltz into the kitchen and find Duff making pancakes, Izzy cooking bacon, Michelle drinking a mimosa, and Axl dressed exactly like he was in my godforsaken dream.
They all call out good morning to me, and I try not to collapse at the sight of Axl.
This is all too much to handle right now.
"Morning kid! Here," Duff shoves a plate of pancakes into my hands. They look perfect, and I'm not surprised. He used to work in a resturant, and before that a bakery. The guy knows how to cook. "And if you want a mimosa too," He looks up and gives Michelle somewhat of a dirty look. "Tell Michelle to make you one. She thinks she's a bartender or something now."
"Oh, shut up! I'm drinking socially. You used to do way worse at our age." Michelle says, taking a sip of the drink in her hand. She's still in her pajamas.
Out of the two of us, Michelle's always been the more rebellious one. The most alcohol I've had was two glasses of red wine at Christmas last year.
"You're so lucky our parents aren't here," Duff warns as he flips a pancake.
Michelle just waves him off, topping off her glass with more champagne. One of the bottles her parents kept in the alcohol cabinet, I'm sure.
I grab the syrup and two slices of bacon off the plate Izzy is putting them on once they're done.
As I'm turning around to go sit, I feel myself brush up against Axl's arm. His whole body, really.
I try to not drop the plate in my hands.
"Sorry honey." Axl's hand rests on the small of my back.
"It's okay." I clutch my plate harder between my fingers, unable to look at him. I know that if I do, I'll blush even more.
I can't say that I blame myself for being this way. It's not like Axl is ugly. Not even close. Even as he cuts his pancakes he looks good.
"Are you okay Chas? You're all red, sweetheart."
I look up at Axl, my heart pounding. He knows something is up.
"I'm fine," I say. I don't even sound like myself.
"Did you sleep okay?"
"Yeah." I nod a little too much.
The conversation shifts as soon as Izzy sits down, and Michelle brings her champagne bottle into the dining room with her. Duff threatens to dump it down the sink while I try my hardest to not think about Axl kissing me.
When I go to the kitchen to put my plate in the sink, my eyes land on the exact spot I was in my dream. I can feel my face burn.
It never even happened! None of it is real, no matter how much it seemed to be. No matter how realistic it was, I will never kiss Axl again. That is what's real.
I book it from the room, worried I'll draw attention to myself if I keep staring at what appears to be nothing.
Axl is still walking around half naked. Michelle is tipsy. Izzy's drinking now.
I need time to think.
"I'll be at my house! Don't leave without saying bye!"
I don't wait to hear anyone's responses when I shut the front door behind me.
