Dirty Dreams

I sat up out of breath and looked around my bedroom. It was still dark, so I glanced at the alarm clock and sighed.

"Another fucking dream!" I whispered to myself.

I woke up twenty minutes before my alarm was scheduled to go off.

"Fuck! God, that was so real..." I whined, wishing I could lay back down and sleep for those remaining minutes, but I knew that would be a mistake. In the dream, we were having sex on the floor in his bedroom.

This was the second time I had a sex dream about Shannon. He was one of my best friends, but we were only friends. We met about three years ago through a mutual friend. I've had a severe crush on him since the day I met him, but he never showed any interest, and I wasn't about to make a fool of myself. If I made a move and he turned me down, not only would I be embarrassed, but I'd be crushed.

He asked me to come over after work. It's easier to go hang out at his place than to go out in public. We do this usually once a month. Dinner and a movie, just the two of us. I'm bringing a bottle of wine, and he's cooking.

Dragging myself out of bed, I turned the water on in the shower and pulled my pajamas off.

God, when I go over there tonight, how will I be able to look him in the eye after what he did to me in that dream?

I stepped under the hot water and tried my best to push it from my mind so that I could make it through the day.

I worked absent-mindedly on my laptop for a few hours, replaying the dream over and over in my head, feeling flutters down my insides every time I felt his ghost touches on my skin.

By lunchtime, I had replied to a dozen emails without remembering a single word I had written. Shaking my head in an attempt to make myself alert, I went over the sent messages folder to make sure I was keeping up with everything I was supposed to that morning.

I checked my phone every so often, waiting for a text or a missed call that I never got. By this time, every morning we would have at least exchanged texts, even if they were with the latest silly memes people were sharing online, or with good bad jokes. He always made me laugh with those.

The lack of communication was very unusual, especially on our monthly date night, so to speak. Usually, we would choose the menu together, decide which wine would go best with that dish, and, more often than not, quarrel about the entertainment options. I'd always insist on watching series, and he'd always go for movies. Today, though, there was nothing.

What the hell is wrong with you? He's your friend, for fuck's sake. Just text him, you pussy! - I mentally yelled at myself.

I took my phone and typed out the usual Good morning, handsome, only this time with an irrational fear he would read the dream I had in my words. Usually, he would reply with Morning, beautiful, or something of the sort, so I put it down and waited. Oh, boy, did I wait.

Damn him!

This was the longest workday of my entire life. Texting or talking to him is what usually make my day pass quickly by. Finally, it was almost time to go when my boss stopped at my desk to ask me to stay a little late. Smiling, I told him that it wouldn't be a problem.

It took me almost an hour to organize the stack of papers for him. After leaving late, I rushed over to the store to pick up a bottle of wine and knew that I didn't have time to go home and change. I got in the car, pulled my heels off and drove over to Shannon's.

I parked my car and slid my heels back on before walking up to the house. The door was partially open, and I knocked loudly.

"It's open. I'm just in the kitchen finishing up." I could hear him call out. My heart was already racing, just dying to see him.