Chapter 4: Queen of Spiciness

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Dakota’s POV

 

I woke up and rolled over on to my side. I didn't remember how I fell asleep, but I do remember seeing Vic. The clock on my bedside table said that it was 8 o'clock and I smelled like strawberries, which was weird because I don't own anything that is strawberry scented. I looked down at myself and realized that I was still wearing Vic's sweatshirt. Crap! He came over last night to get it and I fell asleep in it. Wow, I’m an idiot.

I got out of bed and walked into the bathroom. I took off his sweatshirt, even though I didn't want to. It was so warm and it smelled exactly like him mixed with strawberries. I brushed my hair and put on a different t-shirt. I then folded up Vic's sweatshirt. Audrey wasn't awake yet, but I grabbed the key and walked over to Vic's apartment, holding his sweatshirt. I knocked on the door, and Jaime opened it up.

“Hi, Jaime! Hey, I have Vic's sweatshirt, where is he?” I asked.

“He is in his bedroom, but I think that he might still be asleep,” he told me.

“That alright, I’ll just go and put it in his room so that he has it for later, if that's ok,” I said, hoping that he wouldn't be creeped out. He didn't seem to mind.

“Go right ahead. You already know which room it is right? First one on the right side.” he said, walking towards the kitchen, not seeming to care much.

I walked over to Vic's door and knocked quietly. I let myself in after he didn’t answer. He was lying on his bed asleep. He looked so precious snuggled up in blankets with his head on his hand and the other hand nuzzled under his chin. He was snoring softly and I watched him for a few minutes, taking notice of the little things I never paid attention to before, like the shape of his mouth and how his hair wasn’t straight like the night before. It had more curl to it, and in my opinion, looked much better. There was also a pair of glasses on his bedside table. Huh, I didn’t know he wore glasses.

I wandered around his room, looking at the little things that he kept on a small table in the corner. There were guitar picks, an iPod, and pictures of him and his friends. Posters plastered his wall, and I recognized a lot of the bands.

Once I finished looking at all of his things, I realized that I had probably been in his room for close to ten minutes. I set the sweatshirt beside his head and looked down at him. The song we sang together last night played through my head and I smiled. I turned to leave his room, and with just my luck, I stepped on the creakiest part of the floor. It made a super loud noise, and I froze.

I turned around and saw him open up his eyes. Damn it, I woke him up. A normal person would be mad if you woke them up by going into their room uninvited, looking at their things, and then stepping on the creakiest part of their floor. But Vic didn't even seem to mind. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes, pushing his hair out of his face.

He stretched, and I realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt. I know I’ve seen him shirtless before, at the beach, but this just hit me like a sack of potatoes. And his arms were incredibly toned.

“Oh Vic, I'm so sorry! I was just returning your jacket and I didn't mean to wake you up.” I felt so bad.

“Don't even worry about it,” he said in a sexy, sleepy voice. “And thanks for returning it, by the way. It’s sort of my favorite jacket ever. But when you fell asleep in it, there was no way in Hell I was going to wake you up.”

“I guess I was just really tired… the last thing I remember from last night was us singing. You have an amazing voice.” His face lit up.

“Thanks! I've had a lot of practice over the last few years,” he said smiling.

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