"No! Save the cat!" I jolted in my sleep. I shot open my eyes and bolted up into a sitting position.
"What?" I asked air.
"You can't paint the duck! He'll kick your toilet!" I burst out laughing but didn't realize where this was coming from. I swung my legs out of the bed and stood on the hardwood floor.
Floor? Bed? I looked up. Roof? Where was I? Did I win the lottery and get a house?
"NO! YOU CAN'T KICK THE TOILET MR. PANSIE!"
Did I break into someone's apartement?
My mind was working a mile a minute. Okay Jordan, it doesn't matter where you are. The question is, who is doing all that yelling? Are they alright? Okay, focus. I walked to the door and peeked through the little slit that was open. I heard soft mumbling but I couldn't see anything. Opening it wider, I stepped out onto solid tile and looked around. There was a couch in front of a TV to my left, and a kitchen to my right. I took a wild guess and went to the couch to find the root of my problem.
I gasped and fell back against the wall, my hand catching me. My other hand clutched my heart as I stared at the couch.
How could I have forgotten? Of course I was in Sam's apartement! I stared at him, smiling. My heart was pounding like a jack rabbit's as I stared at Sam. His brown hair played across his forehead and stuck up in places where it probably shouldn't. His lips were moving, quickly and silently, and he looked like a sleeping four-year-old. I watched him sleep. Every now and then he'd move a little bit or pull the blanket closer to his chin. It was fully covering him. Then, at one point, he dropped his hands from holding the blanket up and I realized he wasn't wearing a shirt! I could see his perfectly muscular shoulders, his exceedingly chizled neck. I bit my lip and tried to hide the smile on my face. I put my hands back, going to rest them on the table.
"AH!" I screamed as my hands missed the table and I fell back, the table toppling over with me.
"WHO'S THERE?" I heard Sam yell. He jumped up so that he was now standing on the couch and put his fists up towards the table where I was hiding behind, I could see it all in his mind.
Oh no! I can't fight myself! What if Jordan's hurt? was what he was thinking. I smiled to myself, trying hard not to squeal. I raised my hands and emerged from behind the table.
"I surrender!" I said.
"H-Hi." I pushed my lips together, trying to keep my mouth from dropping open at the sight of his pecs and slight 6-pack. I stared at his abs, my toungue threatening to pop out of my mouth and pant like a dog's. Sam didn't even notice.
"Are you alright?" he asked, jumping off the couch and fixing the table.
"Yeah, I think so," I got up and did a once over. "All's good over here!" He smiled at me and I couldn't help but laugh.
"Oh nothing, it's just," I giggled some more, "You talk in your s-sleep!" I burst out laughing. I clutched my stomach as he stared at me, face pale and eyes wide. I couldn't get enough air to fulfill my laughter, and I snorted. Slapping a hand on my mouth I straightened up and stared at him the same way he was staring at me.
"What did I say?" "Did I just snort?" we said at the same time. "Uh,"
"You know what? I'll make breakfast, if I remember how, and you go have a shower, okay?" I took a piece of hair in my hand, and a huge clump came with it, covered in dirt and I'm pretty sure something was living in it.
"Yeah, I think I do need a shower. Where's the washroom?"
"Right there," he pointed to a door beside the bedroom I'd slept in and smiled at me. I clenched my fists so I wouldn't swoon at his smile. Why was I acting like this? I'd seen plenty of hot guys before, but he seemed almost Godly to me. Weird.
Half an hour and almost half a bottle of shampoo later, I emerged from the washroom with a towel around my hair and one around my body.
"Yeah?" he whipped around with a pan of eggs in his hand. I smelt bacon too and my mouth started to water. I was fantasizing when his thoughts interupted mine,
Girl. In towel. In room. Holy Shit. Holy. F-ing. Shit! I giggled nervously and pulled the towel around me closer.
"Do you have clothes I could borrow, maybe?"
"Room . . . drawer . . . go ahead," he said in broken sentences. I giggled again and ran into the room, yanking open a drawer.
"Eep!" wrong drawer, that was boxers! Wait . . . those are comfy! I snatched a pair of green ones, checked to make sure that the hole was buttoned or zipped or whatever it does, and pulled them on. The drawer below it had t-shirts and I pulled one on, relishing in the fact that I was wearing Sam's clothes! Wait . . . where were his 80's clothes? Maybe he was at a costume party . . . yeah, tht explains it! I think.
"Coming!" I called back, hanging my towels over the door, or at least trying to. I jumped, trying to get them to hang ovre the door.
"Need some help?" Sam was leaning against the doorframe, the sun shining off his hair and de-shirtified-torso. Are you breakfast? I thought. Wait! No! You don't even know his last name! Stop it Jordan, stop!
"Y-yes please," I said, blushing. He came over and took the towels from me, placing them on the door easily, considering he was a good 6 inches taller than me. "No fair, I'm short," he laughed and I almost fainted. He even laughed like a God. Was there anything wrong with him? He turned again and I got a glimpse of something. Yupp, he's still a guy. He still gets morning boners. I laughed quietly, glad that the guy I'd kissed yesterday wasn't totally perfect.
Oh my gosh I'd kissed him! He walked back towards the kitchen and I slipped behind the wall in my room, doing a little happy dance. When I came out, I found him doing the same thing.
"Ahem," He quickly stopped and ran towards the kitchen counter, serving up two plates of bacon, eggs and toast.
"I was, uh, there was a bee in my pants!"
"Oh, gotchya," I grinned and bit into my toast, moaning at how good real food tasted on a tainted toungue.