A Daydream Away

A Daydream Away...[Part 4]

"I didn't think you'd come over..." I said, opening the door for Ethan. He shrugged and walked in.

"I figured you would tell me about your date sooner or later. I'd rather hear about it sooner," he said, sitting on my couch. I stood and smiled down at him. He really was the best. I had texted him as soon as I stepped inside my apartment after my date with Austin and asked him to come over. He never replied, but came over anyway. I sat down on the couch and leaned against him. He pulled my large, warm afghan over us and then put his arms around me.

"So, how was it?" he asked me once we were comfortable. Now that I was all warm and snuggly next to Ethan, all I wanted to do was sleep.

"Amazing," I answered sleepily.

"You're going to have to give me more than that," he said.

"Well first, the restaraunt he took me to was gorgeous. The food was great and the view was spectacular," I said. And then I launched into a recap of the events of the night. I told him about our waiter, Will, and about talking about traveling in Europe and about making fun of the snobby looking people at the theatre.

"Did he kiss you?" he asked.

"Ethan!" I exclaimed, shifting so I could slap his arm.

"What?" he asked innocently. "I have to know if he tried to make the moves on you so I can beat him up if he went too far," he said. I laughed.

"He did kiss me. But that's all," I said. "I know what my limits are," I added.

"Yeah after that one time," Ethan recalled. I remembered only too well, also.

It had been in my senior year of high school, at prom. I went with a guy named Brandon Harris. He and I had been dating all year, so of course we were going to go to prom together.  Little did I know that he had plans to forcefully have sex with me on prom night. Long story short, Ethan found out and beat him up in the hotel lobby. Then, to get me out of my traumatized state, he took me to the city and had a street performer play the electric violin and let me have my one last perfect dance.

The moral of the story was that guys couldn't mess with me because Ethan would find out and he was extremely protective of me. In the end, it was never good for the guy.

"It was just a kiss, nothing else," I told Ethan, nestling back against his muscular chest. People always thought it odd how close Ethan and I were. We would link arms, snuggle together, give each other kisses on the cheek; it was no wonder why most people that saw us thought we were dating. We acted like a total couple. But we had our limits.

"When do I get to meet him?" he asked me.

"Whenever you like, home skillet," I replied, closing my eyes.

"You're not gangster," he told me.

"Are you kidding me? I am the OG," I said, opening my eyes and turning to face him. He laughed and shook his head.

"Right. You're probably the whitest girl I know," he said.

"Because you know sooo many girls," I said, leaning against him again.

"You're right; I do," he said, cockiness in his voice. I rolled my eyes.

"Speaking of girls, who did you do tonight?" I asked. Then I laughed. "Did you see what I did there?" I asked him. I felt him shake his head at my corny joke.

"Yes, I did," he said. I grinned.

"I'm such a funny person. I don't understand why people don't appreciate my humor more," I said.