Oh, Dakota.

Chapter Thirty Six.

Elijah Astor

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It’s safe to say it was a long night. Dakota ended up not being able to hold down the soup, and I spent the rest of the night, rubbing her back until she fell asleep.

It was around six in the morning we both finally fell asleep. And not in the most comfortable position, either. Dakota used up half of my pillow, and since she was asleep before me, and I was still rubbing her back, I didn’t move her. I slid down next to her, and instantly, as though it was a reflex, she turned on her side, curling into me, weaving her legs through mine. I continued to massage her back, up to her shoulders, and down again, but after a while, I could hardly keep my eyes open. So, I fell asleep, also, my hand still on her back, my head tucked into the crook of her neck.

Dakota woke me up around two in the afternoon. She poked me in the stomach continuously, but I refused to wake up. Instead, I swatted away her hand, and rolled over onto my back, throwing my arm over my eyes to block out the bright sunlight suddenly streaming through my open shades.

“Elijah.” Dakota whined. I felt her move over me, sitting down onto my stomach, each leg hugging my sides. “Wake up, wake up.” She begged, and began to bounce up and down. I groaned an incoherent profanity, but she ignored me. She only started to bounce harder, slipping down until she hovered over my lap, still jumping.

“Mhm, don’t do that.” I muttered, my hands latching against her hips to still her.

“No, you’re so lazy!” She declared, and pushed away my hands. She started to bounce again, and I’m pretty positive she knew what she was doing, and was doing it on purpose.

“Dakota.” I didn’t mean too, but her name came out as a moan. Her bouncing had a different effect than she intended.

She stopped, and I knew she felt it. “Opps.” She giggled. She stayed on my waist, her weight pressing down on my newly excitement. “Who know you were so sensitive?” She taunted, and peeking open one eye, I saw her giving me a devilish smirk.

“You’re cruel.” I forced out, and rolled over, pressing her beneath me. I was trying to settle myself, but with her under me, looking so alive and gorgeous than ever, it was difficult. Her green eyes were wide and bright, almost translucent, and her cheeks were tinged a light pink over her tan complexion. I guess she’s feeling better.

She bites down on her lip, concealing her smile. Her hands creep up my bare back slowly. “So, about that date.” She murmurs, her voice trailing off. Her cheeks turn darker, and I realize she’s nervous.

“Yeah?” I breathe, smoothing her hair out, sliding it away from her neck. I trace a finger gently over her throat, and up to trace the outline of her chin. What is this girl doing to me?

I don’t know if I should feel guilty or not. Here I am, in bed with Dakota, when only last night, I was dancing with Stacey. Sure, Stacey’s great and she’s everything I wanted, and she’s still beautiful and everything I liked, but then there’s Dakota.

Dakota, whom I hardly get along with, someone I can’t go two days without fighting with. She’s a hot mess, and doesn’t know who she is or what she wants, and maybe a little cocky. But, I also can tell you all the curves of her. The way her eyelashes are always curved and so long they brush over her cheekbones when she sleeps, and how her nose is so tiny it’s almost childish, and she has the lightest freckles on her nose. Her lips are big, and plump, they almost always look swollen. Her hair is thick, and soft, covering her breasts, and she flips it when she’s either annoyed or upset.  If you look close enough to her, you can see the gold flecks in her eyes, and a small, white scar under her left eyebrow, which I have yet to figure out what happened.