Serendipity // Camren

Chapter 9

Early the next morning, Camila awoke, once again, flushed, sweaty, and painfully aroused even as her body trembled with orgasm. The dream was a different variation on the same theme, her mysterious lover guiding her slowly to the edge and holding here there, on the cusp of release, until her body burned with desire and her lungs ached for oxygen. The oxygen that was wasted on her screams and cries and mewls of pleasure. The only difference was that this time, when those beautiful green eyes looked at her, she knew exactly to whom they belonged. She recognized them and the curtain of raven hair they peered through, and when she did finally come undone, it was with Lauren's name on her lips.

That was definitely a new development.

Her mysterious lover was no longer a nameless, faceless entity. Her nighttime lover had a face. A face so beautiful she was certain it could make angels cry. And a name. Yes, more than anything, it was the name that belonged to her dream lover that had her heart beating an irregular staccato in her chest.

"Lauren," she whispered roughly as she clutched the wrinkled bed sheet to her chest.

She replayed what she could remember of some of her past dreams, and she realized that it had always been Lauren who had danced just beyond the grasp of her consciousness. But why would she suddenly start dreaming about Lauren after so many years? The dreams had started, what, two years ago? She tried to think. No, not two years ago, that was just when they started happening more regularly. Now that she was really focusing on the dreams, she realized that they had been occurring much less frequently for much longer than that. They had been happening ever since...

"Oh my god," she murmured, her right hand lifting to cover her mouth that had formed a perfect O in understanding and disbelief.

They had been happening since her senior year of high school. Had it been Lauren this entire time? Had her subconscious been trying to tell her she wanted Lauren for the last eight, almost nine, years? She nodded slowly to herself as she admitted that yes, that was probably the case. She had always thought Lauren was beautiful and, sure, they had fought over boys all through high school, but why? Why did she always have to have the boy Lauren had? Of course, now that she was questioning herself and her motives, the answer was perfectly clear. She wanted the boys Lauren wanted because it was the closest she could get to admitting to herself—her determination to prove to the world that having two fathers didn't necessarily mean that she was going to be gay like everybody always told her —that she wanted the girl instead.

And, as her body tingled with the aftereffects of her dream-induced orgasm, she had to admit that she really, really wanted Lauren.

But what was she supposed to do about it? Nothing had changed from the night before. She was still concerned about risking her fledgling friendship with Lauren over what could very well be her one-sided attraction. But this latest epiphany of exactly how long she had been wanting Lauren brought forth an entirely new and different set of complications.

First and foremost was her impending weekend-long sleepover at Lauren's house. Should she still go? She had told Lauren that she would, but that was before she had been smacked in the face with her attraction to the woman.

The answer to that question was easy, and simultaneously complicated, yes.

She could not bear the thought of hurting Lauren, and she knew that suddenly revoking her acceptance would do just that. So, even though spending the weekend alone with Lauren would be hard because she wanted her as much more than just a friend, she knew she had to go.

And that brought forth a second, more agonizing set of questions. Could she really let this opportunity pass her by? Could she let Lauren go without at least trying to see if she returned her affections?