Maybe This Time (JonasBrothersFF: Joe/OC)

Hmm, breakfast for two at the International House of Pancakes, -classy. I should be jumping out of joy, really, like I won a ‘Date your Favorite Celebrity’ contest. It’s like a dream come true for a fan girl.

But no, I am not a silly lovesick fan girl and it definitely wasn’t a date.

Tension once again wrapped our little bubble. None of us touched the plate of blueberry pancakes oozing with gooey maple syrup in front of us though it’s too tempting. My stomach has been lurching ever since it got served but I wasn’t sure if the grumbling was because of the delicious pancakes or because of anxiety. The guy I was dining with across the table looked nervous as well.

Joe and I just stared at each other, lips pursed and simply mind fucked. I was leaning my back against the chair while he had his arms in the table, hands clutched like he was praying. First, we woke up together in bed –barely clothed; now, we’re having breakfast at IHOP like it’s the most normal thing to do. If Joe Jonas was the new host of Punk’d, I’ll throw a bitch fit.

“So…” he began, I took a deep breath and sighed. Joe did the same, leaving us again speechless. Words won’t come out of my mouth. I was worried that if something would escape my throat, it will be a scream –the last thing I’d want to slip. I had to bear in mind that we’re both out in public, no need to create a scene with someone like Joe Jonas. But somehow, no one mattered that a certain Jonas was having breakfast with an unknown girl. We have been sitting together for almost half an hour already but neither paparazzo nor fan girls approached us and took photographs. It’s weird. Wasn’t Joe Jonas known around the world? And this was New York; surely someone would have noticed him by now.

“Do you remember now what happened last night?” finally, the conversation has begun. I was already thinking of munching the pancakes because it was too yummy to be left uneaten.    

I just shook my head in response. I already told him how I went home alone last night and I was 99.9% sure that I locked my apartment door before I slept. Plus, no sign of breaking and entering was visible when I checked this morning, like he has a key to my home himself. “How about you?” I asked back.

“What I remember is that I live in Los Angeles, California.  Last time I checked, the Empire State Building was nowhere in LA.” He said as he started eating his pancakes so I did the same. Blueberries are my weakness. I didn’t care that I have a problem with someone famous. I was having mouth orgasm with the delicious blueberries. “Did we have sex last night?” I almost spit what I chewed. I should have known that mentioning orgasm would jinx the conversation. “Silence means yes.”

I dropped my utensils and explained, “Wait, no! God, If we… if we… no.” I frowned and hushed before him. I set the plate away, losing my appetite immediately. “If we did it, shouldn’t I feel sore, -no? Oh god, did we?”

Good God, please don’t tell me I slept with a stranger, a famous stranger. Fuck no.

Joe took a last bite on his pancake and set it aside too. “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you if you recall anything last night.” He pushed through. The jitters in the pit of my stomach made me want to throw up. Thoughts of Joe and I too intimate with one another in my small bed, -naked, touching, moaning- played in my head, on loop. Oh my god, this is bad.

Why am I not thanking the lords for this? Well, if you were into one night stands, then be my guest and take my place instead. I am not that type of girl. Hang me for being a big killjoy but I have morals.