Paradise City

When I woke up the next morning, I had completely forgotten that Alisha had crashed on the couch. That was, until I smelled something burning coming from the kitchen.

I slumped out of bed and made my way into the front room.

Alisha was fully dressed, hair and make up done, standing over my stove with a cocktail in her hand as she made breakfast. Or at least she was trying to. A thin cloud of smoke hovered over her as she danced with herself.

"What are you doing?" I asked her.

She whipped around quickly giving me a bright smile. "I went to the store while you were sleeping." She said as she took a sip of her drink. She had obviously been to the liquor store as well. "I stocked your kitchen. You've been so nice to me and I wanted to thank you. Breakfast?"

I stepped towards her cautiously, peering into the pan. "What is it?"

"Hand-cut fried potatoes. There's bacon and pancakes over there." She motioned to the plates on the counter with aluminum foil over them.

A loud knock came from the door.

"Who is it?" Alisha asked as I looked through the peephole.

"It's Dean." I whispered.

I hardly looked ready for company other than Lish.

"Open the door." She replied.

Dean stood in the hallway, obviously having just got out of bed, hair sticking out in every direction. He ran a hand through it quickly, trying to contain it, as I opened the door. He gave me a quick smile.

"You okay in here?" He asked.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I smelled something burning."

He poked his head around the door, getting a quick glance of my apartment. Alisha smiled widely at him from the kitchen. I really hoped, and I mean I desperately prayed that she wasn't going to try to invite him for breakfast. I was starving, and there were not enough pancakes for three people. Especially a large, hulking man who's stomach was probably a bottomless pit.

"Hi Dean!" She said. "Are you hungry, I made breakfast!"

I tried to signal to Alisha not to do this. I was practically waving my hands in the air in a grand gesture. She didn't take the hint though, and continued to tell him that she had made bacon and pancakes and potatoes.

"Uh, are you sure it's okay? I wouldn't want to impose." He looked down at me. I gave him a small smile unable to say anything now without being rude. I shot daggers at Alisha as soon as he turned back around.

"You wouldn't be imposing! We'd love to have you." She gave me an innocent smile as Dean stepped all the way into the apartment. I closed the door behind him and stomped off towards my room, slamming the door shut behind me.

I wasn't aware that this was Casa de Alisha, I thought to myself as I pulled a pair of jeans and a blouse out of my closet. I looked at myself in the mirror and frowned. Standing next to Alisha, the two of us would like look those 'Celebrities Without Makeup: Before and After' photos. Obviously, Alisha would be the picture of the beautiful, airbrushed girl on the red carpet with her perfectly curled blonde hair and her tan skin, and her flawless eyebrows. And I would just be frumpy girl that was caught taking the trash out on a hot day.

Not that I needed to compare myself to Alisha, but if I were a guy, I would pick Lish without a doubt. I was sure that Dean was no different. Not that he mattered, or anything.

When I stepped back out into the hallway, I could see him smiling at something she was saying. I sighed internally. This wasn't going to be fun. Last night when I went to sleep after getting Alisha situated on the couch, I had figured she'd be gone when I woke up like she was every other time. I didn't expect her linger around.

I propped myself up on the bar stool next to Dean.

"You look nice." He said in a soft voice so that Alisha couldn't hear him over her rambling.

Of course he was being sarcastic.

"Dean, how many pancakes would you like?" Alisha asked him. "I made a dozen."

"I'll take four, if that's okay." He said shyly.

"Of course it's okay!" She fixed him up a large plate and sat it in front of him. "Callie?"

"Two, please." Even though I could have eaten all twelve if you hadn't invited the trashy neighbor.

We ate in silence. I had offered Alisha my seat at the island because she had been so nice in making me breakfast. But I only had two bar stools, so I ended up standing awkwardly against the kitchen counter as Dean and Alisha ate at the island. Every few seconds Alisha looked like she was going to attempt to make small talk, but decided against it. Everyone was too busy stuffing their face, anyways, so it was useless.

Dean's eyes never left me. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, and as hard as I tried to keep my eyes down; focused on the tiles of the floor, the patterns in the marble counter top, the food on my plate, I somehow found myself locked in a staring contest with the man. His eyes were like magnets. Like some kind of spell kept you from looking away for too long.

Alisha cleared her throat after a few moments which broke my gaze.

"Hey, can I borrow you for a minute?" She asked.

I nodded and sat my plate down, allowing her to drag me back to my bedroom.

"What is going on with you two?" She yelled in a whisper as soon as she shut the door behind herself.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're basically fucking each other with your eyes." She replied. "I'm extremely uncomfortable."

"You're uncomfortable!? The creepazoid keeps staring at me! How do you think I feel!?"

"I don't believe you. You're not fooling me! Since when does Dean Ambrose come over for breakfast!?" She was still whisper shouting.

"Since you invited him! Didn't you see me!? I was sending you the signal not to!"

"What signal?"

I waved my hands in the air, and mouthed the words 'no' and 'stop' like I had done earlier. "That signal! That means 'do not invite this man over for breakfast, I don't want him in my apartment'!"

"I thought you were telling me that you wanted me to invite him." Either she was lying or she was even more stupid than I thought.

"Can you go get rid of him or something?"

She sighed and walked back out into the hallway. I stayed behind in my room to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"Well," She said. I could hear her picking up plates and scraping them off in the sink before putting them in the dishwasher. "I think I'm going to head out. It was nice seeing you, I hope you enjoyed breakfast."

What was she doing? She was supposed to be getting rid of him, not leaving him with me.

"It was delicious, thank you. I haven't had a home cooked breakfast in a long time." Dean replied.

I stepped out in to the hallway, glaring at Alisha as she gathered her belongings. "Where are you going?" I asked her flatly.

"I have a hangover. Not really feeling too good, have fun!" She winked and disappeared out the door.

Dean was still scraping some potatoes from his plate. "She seems pretty chipper for someone with a hangover." He said with a full mouth. "And wasn't she just drinking?"

My shoulders slumped as I fell on the couch. I heard the stool scooting across the floor, followed by the sounds of Dean cleaning his plate. I closed my eyes and wished with all my might that I could just go back to sleep.

"So what are your plans for the day?" He asked. My eyes shot open when I felt him lift my legs up off the couch so that he could sit down. Once he made himself comfortable, he replaced my legs across his lap.

When did we become this comfortable with each other, I asked myself.

That's right, we didn't.

I sat up quickly, swinging my legs off the couch and sat forward.

"What?" He asked. Rhetorical question, obviously, because before I could say anything he said, "Oh, right. I forgot. You don't like me."

I was confused. Where was this coming from?

"Why is that, by the way?" He asked.

I asked myself the same question a million times a day. My answer was that I didn't not like him. I couldn't let him know that, though. "Well, for starters you're a jerk."

"I'm a jerk?"

"Yeah, you are. You're rude and sarcastic, and creepy, and too old, and-" I was running out of things to say. "And you never brush your hair!"

He laughed. "Well you're a calloused bitch."

"You're a greasy scumbag!"

"You're a prude!"

"You're stupid!"

We had yelled each other to the door, and I was physically pushing Dean out into the hallway.

He turned around and caught the door before I could slam it shut. "You're a childish, little twat!"

"Ergh!" I yelled as I slammed the door shut, balling my fists and hitting it a few times. "This is why I didn't want you to come over for breakfast."

"Well it fucking sucked anyways!" He yelled from the other side.

"Good! I hope it fucking poisons your insides and you fucking rot!"

It was quiet for a second before I heard him laughing. Laughing. He was laughing at me. If anything made me furious, it was people laughing at me when I was trying to be serious. I pulled the door open to see him leaning up against the wall, holding his middle as he genuinely laughed.

"This isn't funny." I stated.

"No, it's hilarious." He said as he straightened himself up and caught his breath. "You trying to be all intimidating and mean, it's hilarious, and cute, and I'm gonna tell you right now, Callie. I don't buy it for one minute. I see you. And I'm sick of these fucking childish games."

He took one step across the hallway and stood so close to me that I could feel the fabric of our clothes slightly pulling on the other's. My heart dropped to my ankles as I tried to control my breathing, which had become frantic in mere seconds.

This was too close. Way too close.

My entire body ached for him, though. I needed him to touch me. My life felt like it depended on it. He placed his index finger underneath my chin, tilting my head to look at him. His eyes were low, soft and hungry, and beautiful, and just so blue. I felt completely exposed underneath his crystal stare. His finger moved from my chin, down my jawline, and he cupped my neck with his hand.

I couldn't control myself, and I knew he could tell. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"So you wanna tell me again? Why you don't like me?" His voice was hoarse, filled with confidence and lust.

I couldn't even think straight, let alone talk straight.

"That's what I thought." Dean smirked, pulling his hand from my neck, and took a step back.

Before I could even think to blink, Dean had disappeared through his door.

I was left speechless.