Just Like Heaven

My heart pounded crazily, and it made me dizzy. I had shut my eyes, earlier on, and I wanted to open them and see if I was dreaming or not. But, that thought disappeared when there was loud banging on my door. Mikey pulled away, reluctantly and looked at me sheepishly. I don't know what the look on my face gave, but he smiled after.

"Morg! Morgie, open up! I have coffee!" Paula sang through the door.

I groaned, "Sorry," I said to Mikey.

He just shrugged, "It's cool."

I stood, as did he, "You don't have to go."

"I think I should, my brother is probably wondering where the hell I am."

I bit at my lip, "Call me."

He nodded, opening the door, "I will."

We met with Paula, who gave a surprised look, "Oh...hello."

"Hey." Mikey said, then turned to me, giving me a peck on the cheek, "See ya."

"See ya." I waved as he walked away.

Paula walked in, "You dirty girl." she growled lowly at me.

I closed the door, "We were talking." I excused.

"Liar, your lips are plumped." She gave me a frappachino, with lots of whipped cream.

"It was just..." I blushed, "I'm not going to explain myself to you."

She rolled her eyes, "You will one day. So, is he a good kisser? Kinda scrawny for my taste."

"I told you, I am not going to explain myself to you."

"Kiss and tell, he's just a guy--"

I stopped her, "He isn't just a guy, Paula...I think he may be the one."

"Oh geez," she rolled her eyes again, "The one? Really?"

"Maybe." I told her; I took a long sip from my drink.

"Just because he kisses good doesn't mean he can automatically be the one."

"I'm not making my decision based on a kiss, I'm saying it because of the talk we had beforehand."

"What?" Paula asked.

"Nothing, doesn't concern you." I joked.

Paula rolled her eyes again.

I didn't want to bring up the whole alcoholism thing. It wasn't my place to tell anyone about his problem, unless he wanted me to. It wasn't a problem anymore, for him, so I don't think I should address it as a problem.

But, either way, I like Mikey. I don't remember the last time I liked a guy as much as I liked him.


Paula didn't pester me about Mikey anymore, and I was glad. Though, at times, I wanted to talk about him. He was always on my mind, and I often wondered if I were on his.

And, sure enough, I was. 

Everyday, for the rest of the week, Mikey waited for me on the stairs. It was like a routine, I think I'd be disappointed if I came home one day and he wasn't there. He was always sitting back, sunglasses on and a small smile. He was this mysterious, brooding, shy guy and I was turned on by it. And, he was right about the whole phone thing; it was cute whenever he called me, late at night, just to talk...I felt like a teenager. 

On Friday, after work, Mikey was leaning against the entry, looking down, as usual. His sunglasses were gone and his hair was messy, I had smiled, he looked up right then and smiled back. He stood erect and lent his hand out; "Hey."

"Hey," I felt his hands snake around me for a hug, "where are your sunglasses, Bruce?"

He laughed, "Bruce Wayne. I used to wear glasses when I was younger."

I chuckled, letting him put his arm around my shoulder now, "I would have loved to see that."

"You will, I got something to show you." He didn't head up the stairs, as I figured we would, we went down the hall, to his apartment.

I didn't have a single thought as he let me in, until I saw his home. It was, like mine, but had a male's touch. There were movie posters hung up, video game systems and two coffee makers. I looked at him and he shrugged, closing the door, "I like coffee."

"I know." I told him with a giggle, "It's just odd. My brother says coffee will kill you."

"Your brother doesn't know what he's talking about." Mikey jested playfully, "C'mon." Mikey tugged the sleeve of my cardigan gently, and I followed him to his couch.

For that week, we didn't kiss again, like we had before. I think he was afraid he had done something wrong, but he didn't know how bad I wanted another kiss. He gave me soft pecks, but nothing long lasting; he's quite the gentleman.

He sat first and then he pulled me onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around my waist and my stomach flipped uneasily, nervous, I guessed. I looked at him, our faces close, noses brushing, Mikey kissed me. 

Surprise, surprise.

I felt like doing a flip. I wanted to somersault across his living room and right back into his lap. 

Mikey's hands went up my shirt, but stayed at my lower back and my belly. His left hand was on my belly, his fingers touched my belly button ring and he smirked, I smiled, feeling a bit embarrassed, but Mikey didn't seem to care, so neither did I. His fingers ran up and down, touching the underside of my breast, covered by my bra. I mentally thanked myself for wearing a set of grey lace bra and panties; they were new and I thought I should wear them, thank heavens.

My hands cupped Mikey's jaw, gently, and I moved to straddle him, and he didn't object. Our lips made an audible smack as we parted and we breathed in heavily, I swallowed thickly, looking at Mikey, he looked at me.

"Are we...going too far?" I asked softly.

"I want you bad, Morgan. I don't think I ever wanted a woman as bad as you." 

Again, my stomach flipped.

"Really?" I asked in disbelief.

He nodded, "Yeah, fuck yeah. But...we don't have to...it's all up to you."

I bit my lip, I didn't answer, I just began to unbutton my blouse and Mikey's eyes fell to where my fingers unfastened. He pushed my hands away and began where he had pushed them from. "My belt." He said, and that's where I began.

Just as the zipper of his jeans went down, his front door opened; "Yo, Mikey, I could--"

It was the guy with the white hair again. Dammit.