Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
“The more vivid the better,” Janelle says in a knowing tone. “I’m telling you, you’re lucky this is happening. Some people never dream about hot guys, ever, and I feel bad for them.”
I just giggle again because my friend’s so crazy.
“Okay, okay. I got it. So when did you want to meet for coffee?”
She purses her lips.
“Let’s say ten? Then we have some time to chat before our ten-thirty class. What do you think?”
I nod.
“Yep, sounds good. At the Terrace Café?”
She makes a face.
“Yes. The joe sucks there, but it’s the only place on campus where the coffee’s hot. Everywhere else, it’s only lukewarm and that pisses me off.”
I giggle and nod.
“Alright, I’ll see you then.”
With that, we hang up and I step into my room to get dressed. But then I do an about face because to be honest, I need to shower. I’m sticky from last night still, so I crank on the spray in the stall before stepping in. With absentminded strokes, my fingers lather my hair as I ponder what Janelle said. My friend seems to believe that my vivid sex dreams are completely normal. She even says she has them herself, but I’m not sure if we’re at the same level because hers was about a movie star, while mine are about a man I know. Granted, I don’t know Jason well because we just met, but what will I do if I see the sexy mechanic again? Spontaneously combust? Melt into a puddle at his feet? I can’t face him knowing I had sex with him already, even if it was only in my head!
But then a thought strikes. Could it be my medication playing tricks on me? After all, the dose is pretty strong and while I didn’t think these things would cause hallucinations, they are psychoactive by definition. They’re supposed to be to treat my depression, but maybe this is part of it. After all, my sense of well-being is elevated at the moment, and I definitely feel happy and uncommonly buoyant. That must be it.
With a smile, I rinse my hair and turn off the tap, stepping out onto my fluffy bathroom mat. Then, I wrap myself in a giant, grey towel and head for my room before selecting comfy jeans and a t-shirt to wear. It must be the drugs. It’s the medication that’s doing this to me, and although I should feel relieved, I’m also a bit disappointed because in my heart of hearts, I want it to be Jason. I want to dream of him and fantasize about him without the help of chemicals. In fact, I want to see him in person, and to do that together, with his hands all over my body. But is that really going to happen? With dream Jason, yes. But with real-life Jason, who knows?
7
Jason
Holy shit, I’m taking Olly out on a date tonight. I’m excited but still, I know this shouldn’t be happening. After all, who goes out with their stalker? Even worse, I’m a stalker who’s literally made love to her in her sleep.
But everything’s motoring along like we’re a normal couple. I took a chance and grabbed Olly’s number from the forms she filled out when she brought her car to the shop. Then, I called her up and to my surprise, Olly said yes to hanging out. I shouldn’t be surprised because we got along great the afternoon we had tea, but still, guilt wracks my gut. She has no idea that it was me in her room that night, and that she wasn’t just having a dream. Instead, we were doing it, and it felt good.
But now, I push all of that out of my mind. I need to act normal, so I pull into her driveway, head for the door, and then take a deep breath before knocking. The beautiful woman answers within seconds after I knock with a big smile on her face.
“Hey Jason. Thanks for picking me up,” she murmurs.
“No problem, sweetheart. This is a date, after all, so I like to be the gentleman.” Of course, in real life, I’m a total ass, not to mention a criminal. But Olly doesn’t know, and she smiles while grabbing her purse and jacket.
“I’m excited. So where are we going?”
I shoot her a look while opening the truck door for her.
“I thought we’d go out for pizza. Does that sound okay? I hope you’re hungry.”
She shoots a bright smile my way.
“Starving!”
“Good.”
Then, I put the vehicle in drive and we cruise down the road to one of my favorite restaurants in Millbrook, a pizza shop called Dough Boys. They’re famous for their weird toppings like prosciutto, artichokes, and various items that shouldn’t work when slapped together, but generally do.
“Have you ever been to Dough Boys before?” I ask as we pull into the parking lot.