Unknown - driven

The dream started rather simply.

She was playing basketball.

The scene switched between the driveway of her parents home and the empty Badgers arena. She was shooting great, enjoying nothing but net every time.

Looking down, she realized she was stark naked.

Looking to the sideline, she also realized that Dylan Lambert was watching her, eyes avid to her every move.

She stopped and tried to cover her body with her hands, only to have Dylan smirk at her. The coach began walking forward slowly. Cat could hear her heart pounding in her ears and threatening to beat right out of her chest.

“Catherine?”

The player?s knees went weak with the seductive quality of Dylan saying her name. “Yes?”

“You?re very attractive.”

“Thanks.” she managed to squeak, wondering briefly why she was naked and Dylan wasn?t. What kind of screwed up dream is this anyhow?

“Very?.” Dylan paused and ran her finger over Cat?s shoulder, causing her to shiver and further causing goose bumps to break out all over her skin. “?attractive.”

“Oh God,” Cat moaned when she felt Dylan?s lips where her fingers had been only a second before.

With a blur, the scene shifted again, and now she was standing in the pet store. She looked down and found that once again, the God of dreams had taken her clothes. Funny how no one else noticed, but there was Dylan Lambert, smirking.

Again.

Soon she found herself back up against a wall. Dylan was kissing her and pressed so hard against her body she could barely breathe. Where she should have panicked, all she felt was excitement. If this was a dream?and she knew it was?let it continue for eternity.

When she gasped, they shifted the floor of the arena and the kiss continued, long and passionate. Cat wanted nothing more than to crawl under Dylan?s skin and stay there.

She moaned, and suddenly woke up.

Hamlet was licking her face with the all enthusiasm of a man lost in the desert going after an oasis.

“Oh gross!” She pushed him away and wiped the copious amounts of puppy drool from her face. “Thanks for ruining a perfectly wonderful dream. Well, all except that naked thing.”

She looked over at her alarm clock and realized it was already time to get up. Sighing, she got out of bed and trudged to the shower.

Once she was dressed, she grabbed Hamlet?s leash and took him out for his morning walk. It was raining, but not hard, and she decided there was no sense in going back for a jacket, because once Hamlet set his mind to the task at hand, it usually didn?t take very long. In less than ten minutes she was on her way back the apartment, just a little soggy, but with a happy puppy.

Breakfast was prepared; bacon and eggs for Cat, kibble for Hamlet. Per his morning routine, Hamlet ate, burped and then lay down by the front door. Cat continued to eat, and read the morning paper as she did. He eyes landed on an ad for cell phones and a blonde brow curved in contemplation.

“Maybe I should join the 21st century. Whaddya think Hamlet? Does Mom need a cell phone?”

On cue he rolled over on his back, with all four paws sticking in the air.

“Stop that, you look like road kill.”

He whined and flopped over on his side.

“Thank you.” She took another bite of her bacon and continued with the paper.

Two hours later, Cat stood in front of the store holding her new cell phone in her hand and looking quite please with herself. Of course the two hundred dollars she had ended up spending on ?extras? nearly caused her heart to stop, but she chalked it up to a need and realized she could write it off on her taxes.

Climbing in her truck, she dug around in the sack until the found the adapter for the cigarette lighter. She fumbled with it for a moment then plugged it in, attaching her phone to let it charge.

“God, I?m pitiful.” She mumbled aloud as she started the truck and pulled out into traffic. “I wonder what my friend would say if they knew I didn?t own a computer either.”

She drove to a bookstore, where she picked up a copy of the newest murder mystery by her father?s favorite author, a new cookbook for her mother and gift cards for her brothers. She was waiting in line when she looked over at a rack of biographies a few feet away and she saw Dylan?s face.

“Now how did I miss that?” She stepped out of line and plucked the book from the rack and thumbed through it. She decided that with the up coming road trip it would be something to read. Of course, she?d have to put a shopping bag cover on it, so no one would tease her about it.

She got back in line and waited patiently as first an elderly customer couldn?t find her credit card and then a mother of three, tried to keep her children from grabbing their purchases so the clerk could ring them up.

Three good reasons NEVER to have children.

After her errands were run she returned home. Hamlet sniffed her quite thoroughly just to make sure it was her and then jumped up on the couch, where he knew good and well he shouldn?t be.

“Get off there you slobber monster.” She shook her finger and he dropped to the floor. “Good boy.”

She settled down on the couch to look over the instructions for her phone. She felt it creeping up and looked desperately for a box of Kleenex, which she realized too late, she didn?t have. The sneeze was so loud and forceful it scared Hamlet.

“Great,” Cat grumped to herself as she ran into the bathroom for toilet paper. “Just what I need. We?re going up against the best team in the league and I?m blowing snot all over the place.”

The next evening, after practice, Cat began her habitual shooting drills, expecting that Dylan would join her at any time. Her belly fluttered pleasantly, causing her to miss her first seven shots in a row.

“Great,” she grumped, tearing after the errant ball yet again. “At this rate, I?ll still be here when practice starts again tomorrow.”

Grabbing the ball, she set herself up just behind the foul line. “Focus, Cat. Focus.”

She threw a brick as the image of Dylan kissing her on that very line ambushed her the second she released her shot.

“Shit!!!”

Her curse reverberated through the empty, cavernous arena.

“Alright,” she said, finally defeated. “I?ve had enough. I feel like shit, I?m playing like shit, and Dylan?s nowhere to be found.” She sighed. “This just bites.”

Walking dejectedly across the court, she tossed the ball toward the rack, and missed that shot as well. Grumbling under her breath, she made for the locker room, and then hit the shower, washing the sweat of a fruitless day from her body.

Even dragging on her clothes seemed a gargantuan task. The cold she still wouldn?t admit to was taking a lot out of her, and her reserves, always spare to begin with, weren?t kicking in as they should.

If someone had held a gun up to her head, however, she?d readily admit that what made her feel the lousiest was that Dylan and been scarce all day.

“She probably thinks I?m an idiot,” she muttered to herself, standing and slinging her gym bag over one shoulder. “God, a brand new rookie coming onto her coach. How clich� can you get?”

Trudging back through the locker room and out into the arena, mired deep in her own thoughts, Cat completely missed the silent figure standing in the shadows of the large exit doors.

“You?re through early,” a liquid voice sounded to her left.

Cat gasped, then spun, only then seeing Dylan as she emerged from the shadows. She was looking sleek in what Cat privately termed her “PR clothes”; black slacks and blazer over a silken blue shirt.

“You scared me!”

“Sorry about that. I thought you?d see me when you walked across the court.”