“Come on, tell me.”
“No,” Kelly said, shaking her head for emphasis.
“Just tell me.
I’ve told you all of my embarrassing dreams,” Caleb whined.
Kelly blushed as parts of the dream came rushing over
her. The parts where Caleb had been
thrusting himself deep inside her.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. “Now drop it, please.”
Caleb was the closest thing she had to a brother. They had grown up next door to each other. They had played X-men together in her tree house. She could honestly say, without a doubt, she
had never seen Caleb that way. At least
until last night when she had a sex dream about him.
Caleb pouted beside her as they rode the bus to the track
meet.
Kelly was painfully aware of the muscles in his exposed
arm. Of how short her shorts were under
her warm up pants. God, did she actually
feel that way about Caleb? Or was it
just her mind filling her dreams with familiar faces?
“Just forget I said anything,” she said, trying hard not to
stare at his lap.
“Really! You tell
me you had a sex dream then won’t tell me who it was with. Come on, Kelly.”
“Fine, fine. It
was Michael Phelps,” she blurted, hoping he would believe her.
Caleb’s face turned bright red as he struggled not to laugh. “Like the swimmer guy? With the super long arms?”
“Yes, jackass, the
swimmer guy.”
Caleb wasn’t even trying to control his mirth. “I bet he’s good at holding his breath,” he
choked between laughing.
“This is why I didn’t tell you.”
Kelly wondered what he would say if he knew the
truth. She would never know, but she
smiled a little as she remembered how good dream Caleb was at holding his
breath.
