2 STRINGS

Strings Of The Heart

Monday, November 18

My dreams were nonstop last night, vivid and unrelenting in their intensity. It had been a while since Xolo had invaded my subconscious like that, doing all kinds of things that had me waking up in a sweat. Usually, those dreams stopped short of us actually doing anything intimate, but last night was different.

I could still feel the heat of his lips trailing down my neck, the soft moans slipping from my lips as he claimed me with every kiss. His mouth crushed against mine, and I didn't put up a fight for dominance—why would I? I was already under his spell. His hands wandered boldly, tracing every curve of my body before slipping under my shirt, his touch igniting my skin.

"Get up," he whispered, his voice low and commanding.

"Huh?" I murmured, completely entranced.

"Get up," he repeated, shaking me gently.

The next thing I knew, my brother Greg was standing over me, tugging at my blanket and telling me to hurry up because breakfast was almost ready. My face flushed with embarrassment as I shot up in bed, the dream still lingering in my mind like a ghost.

I rushed to the bathroom, trying to scrub the remnants of the dream off my skin as I showered. But no matter how much water hit me, I swore I could still feel his phantom touches, the warmth of his hands on my body.

I dressed quickly, throwing on dark blue cargo jeans, a crisp white long-sleeve shirt, and slicking my hair back into a neat bun. I finished the look with a pair of white sneakers and hurried downstairs.

To my utter surprise, there he was. Xolo. Sitting at the table, deep in conversation with my family, his signature charm effortlessly winning them over.

"Hi," he said, flashing me that breathtaking smile of his. He was wearing a black leather jacket over a fitted white T-shirt, paired with dark-wash jeans and black boots. The outfit was simple, but on him, it looked hot as hell. His hair was styled just right, giving him an effortlessly cool vibe.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice lighter than I intended. Heat rushed to my face as the dream from earlier came rushing back, unbidden and unhelpful.

"I wanted to take you out for breakfast," he said smoothly. "But now I see you've got a whole feast waiting for you, so how about later instead?"

I glanced at my parents for approval. My mom smiled knowingly, and my dad gave a small nod. Greg, of course, couldn't help but chime in with a teasing, "Make sure you two don't end up making out in the car or something."

"Greg!" I shot him a glare as my mom set an extra plate down for Xolo.

"Don't mind if I do," Xolo said, sliding into the seat beside me with a grin.

The day flew by in a blur of lectures and assignments. During lunch, I caught up with Melody, who immediately grilled me about my "date" with Xolo.

"Wait, so he came to your house to take you out for breakfast?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"Well, it wasn't exactly a date," I clarified, trying not to overthink it. "He didn't call it that, anyway."

Melody smirked, leaning back in her chair. "Girl, if he shows up early in the morning, looking fine as hell, and offers to take you out, it's a date. Stop overanalyzing."

I laughed, finally giving in. "Okay, maybe it is. But there's still a lot to figure out. There was this huge misunderstanding with him and Bianca, and—"

"Oh, you mean the fake dating thing?" Melody interrupted, her tone dripping with curiosity. "I heard about that. So, what's the deal?" 

"Wait—how do you know about that?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at her.