What's for Breakfast?

Two: Dream On

I avert my gaze, my eyes falling back on the rattled woman who takes a few cautious steps backward.

Good. Be scared.

I shoot a glare back at Derek who is looking up at me. "Why the hell are you here?!" I yell.

I hop off my bed and then cross my arms, deliberately avoiding looking at his well-sculpted torso.

"Stop yelling, Sam," he grunts. "I'm still in the process of buying a unit just above this floor, and some renovations are going on. I can't move in right away."

He rubs his temples. "Ow... My head hurts."

"I... I should be going..." The woman stammers, tiptoeing towards the door.

I shoot daggers at her once more, and she flinches.

Before I can say something to the woman, she has left the room in a rush, leaving only Derek and me inside. The front door shuts a few seconds later. Derek hauls himself up from the floor, still massaging his temples. My eyes travel from his toes to his head, and I become aware of how he towers over me.

I am only 5'4", and he is around 5'11". His body is toned like what I've said. Not overly muscular, but it's clear he exercises regularly. And his legs... He definitely doesn't skip leg day. Despite his disheveled hair, I can't deny how attractive he still is. His eyes are a deep shade of cinnamon, sharp and intense, matching his golden skin tone. His nose is slightly upturned, and his lips, although chapped, are full.

Three years later, Derek remains the same stunning man. Fine lines have appeared under his eyes, adding a touch of maturity and... virility.

I suddenly wonder what he thinks of me. Have I become even more attractive to him, too? Do I look the same?

Oh, who cares? I'm single, and I'm angry!

He rakes his hair with his hand before looking me in the eye. My muscles tense, compelling me to break eye contact immediately.

"What are you staring at?" He smirks at me.

My eyes narrow, then I glare at him. "Did you just sleep with a minor?! You're going to jail!"

He laughs, revealing his perfect, white teeth. "Jesus, no. She's twenty-three. I'm not dumb."

I seethe with anger. "I want you out of my room!"

"Oh my. You still look cute when you're mad."

I don't blush. I try my best not to. Because if there's one thing I won't forget about Derek, it's the fact that he's definitely out of my league.

Patrick and Derek have been best friends since they were in high school. Moreover, Derek's a player. He's never wasted the opportunities that come his way, a fact he's made abundantly clear. I remember him once boasting about being a gift to women.

His gaze shamelessly roams over my body, and I can't help but feel self-conscious. I swallow hard, trying to regain my composure..

"Looking good, Sam. Why are you all dressed up?" He asks me, ignoring my raging sentiment.

"It's none of your business," I scowl at him, pushing him out of my way.

I start to make my bed angrily. Darn, I need to change my sheets. The mere thought of the possible 'activities' they did here makes me want to gag.

"I'm just asking. I've never seen you wear that kind of dress. You were always so... Never mind. Got a date?"

I suddenly become acutely aware of the dress clinging to my body. It's satin, black, and falls just above the knee, sleeveless with a daring neckline.