Page 25 of Harper's Holiday Romance
“Oh, of course; so are you spider-phobic or not?” Sarah stuck her tongue out at Billie, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. Billie was smart, really smart, in a textbook type of way. She absorbed information like a sponge,whereas my brain liked to work on more of a need-to-know basis. Over the years I discovered there wasn’t a lot it needed to know.
“Come and feel my heartbeat. I ampetrified.”
The overwhelming need to escape whenever I so much as sensed a spiders presence painted a clear picture. “You’re shaking.” Sarah gripped my arm. “And sweating.”
“I told you. I don’t do it for dramatic effect.”
“Are you sure all these symptoms are not simply down to the wet dream you had last night?” Billie teased.
Sarah gasped. “You had a wet dream?” She pulled me down by my arm into a seated position. “Tell me everything.”
“It wasn’t a wet dream.” I scowled.
“It definitely was; I practically heard you moan.” Billie goaded.
I picked up the thick triangular cushion from the balcony seating and launched it through the sliding glass door. “You’re such a liar.”
“You were moaning?” Sarah smirked.
“Please, stop it, you’re making me uncomfortable.”
I covered my eyes with my hands and pushed my lips into a pout. Ihatedtalking about anything to do with sex. I Googled sexual anxiety once after a conversation about masturbating. I found an article by a couple’s therapist that told me to perform a variety of different exercises to reduce the anxiety. When the article told me to focus on exploring erogenous zones without the pressure of it leading to sex, I realised the article was aimed more at sex with a partner and was less useful for conversing with your friends. I would’ve been slightly concerned had they wanted me to explore Billie’s erogenous zones.
“Okay, I’ll stop teasing. She didn’t moan. I added that part, but there was some sexual intensity in your dream; was there not?” Billie carefully made her way onto the balcony, hands up to protect her face from cushion number two.
“Yes, there was some—” I didn’t want to say the words. “We all had a conversation last night before we went to sleep abouther, and well, obviously when you talk about someone or something right before bed you dream about them. That’s a fact; is it not?” I looked at my two best friends, and they nodded in agreement.
“What exactly happened in this dream?” Sarah asked.
Billie pretended to zip her mouth and throw away the key.
“I walked down to the cenote. When I arrived she was in the middle of the water laid floating on her back with her hair spread all around her. I didn’t ask why she was there or what she was doing; I just climbed into the pool and started pushing her in a circle and laughing.”
“Interesting.” Sarah narrowed her eyes.
“Then she climbed out of the pool and gestured for me to join her on the sun lounger. There was a dog-sized lizard walking around and futuristic robotic waiters with Mexican accents and metal plyers as hands.”
“Okay—” Sarah bit the corner of her lip. I knew her well enough to know she was desperately trying not to laugh, and I couldn’t blame her.
“Don’t laugh.”
“Sorry, sorry, I’m not. Go on.”
“The Mexican robots told us it was a safe place to... y’know.” I looked at Billie for some support.
“Do bits,” she clarified.
Sarah could barely keep a straight face.
“Yeah, that. And then she made a move, and I woke up.”Thank God.
“You didn’t get to taste the forbidden fruit in your dream?” Sarah asked.
“No. Nor would I want to,” I verified. Why on earth would I have wanted to initiate sexual contact withher?
“Your dream suggests you want her,” Billie rebutted.
“I do not want to have sex on a sun lounger down by the cenote with the girl whose name I don’t even know.”
