Post Breakup Sex

by Sibylla Matilde

  Of course I did.

  At long last, my phone buzzed. Thank fuck. A text from Sophie.

  Comb grynme

  “What the bloody hell does that mean?” Denny asked, reading the text over my shoulder.

  “I’m not entirely sure,” I replied. “But I think maybe she wants me to come get her.”

  I tapped a text back to Sophie.

  You okay?

  The response came very, very slowly.

  I m pucky. Wannf go home.

  “She’s pucky?” Denny asked.

  “Or pukey,” I murmured, “Dude, let me borrow your truck.”

  “Go and shite. You’re the one tapping that. She gawks in your car.”

  “No way, man,” Cody gasped as he walked up behind Denny, “not the Cougar.”

  “Oh, for feck’s sake, Cody,” Denny scowled back at him, “don’t get your knickers in a twist. He’s not gonna let anyone puke in the Cougar.” He looked towards me once again. “Just let Lily take care of her if she’s shlossed. Sophie can gawk in her car.”

  “Fuck off,” I replied gruffly. “Sophie’s not used to this type of thing. I can’t just leave her be.”

  “Awe,” Justin cooed, batting his eyelashes and tipping his hand with dramatic flair, “Brannon’s turning into a girl.”

  “Fuck,” Drew added in, “you should have seen him when she came to get her tat. All kissing her forehead and shit.”

  “Fuck off,” I scowled back at them both.

  “Jaysus,” Denny said, “snap out of it. She’s a fine bitta stuff, I’ll give you that. I’ve watched ya ride her and,” he turned and nodded to the other guys, “that bird really is right hot…”

  “You fucker,” Cody spat at Denny, “you’ve watched them?”

  But Denny had already turned back to me to finish telling me off.

  “…but are you really gonna let her gawk in your car?”

  “We don’t even know that she’s gonna puke,” I argued, reaching in my pocket for my keys as I headed to the front door.

  “She just told ye she’s pukey,” Denny hollered back. “Ya whipped eejit.”

  “That doesn’t mean she’s going to ralph in my car,” I shot back, then slammed the door behind me and headed ninety-to-nothing to Teasers to get a schnockered Sophie.

  My first thought when I saw her was that she was totally going to ralph in my car. And that I really should have brought Denny’s truck. Too many drinks to count and she was feeling beyond woozy. She’d kicked off her heels (which sucked because they looked like they’d be really hot) and was doing her best to hold up the wall as the pulsing dance beat reverberated through the club.

  “Brannon,” Lily squealed, and Sophie’s eyes popped open. Or, rather, they sort of drooped open, but kind of quickly, if that was even possible. Pauline was giggling at something, God only knew what, off to Sophie’s right, and her mouth fell open when she saw me.

  “Holy shit, Brannon? Are you here to strip for us?”

  I barely glanced at the other girls, about half of whom I had indeed fucked at one time or another which did nothing to settle the uneasy churning in my gut. But I paid them no mind as I stepped up to Sophie, cupping her face in my hand. She smelled like a distillery.

  “Hi,” she mumbled as she leaned into my palm, her eyes easing closed. Of course, as she leaned into my palm, her whole body sort of followed suit, and she began to fall sideways.

  I kind of chuckled as I caught her limp body and pulled her up against me. Her head fell heavily onto my chest, and it occurred to me that I was totally supporting her.

  “Sophie, baby, you’re bombed.”

  She made a small movement like she was trying to lift her head, but she didn’t make it very far.

  “Jägerbombed,” she snorted into my shirt.

  “You’re still a witty one, though, aren’t you?” I smiled as I hooked my arm behind her knees and lifted her up against my chest. “Okay, ladies,” I turned to Lily who stood with Pauline, Ruth, and Laura, as well as a whole little herd of short skirts that hovered around, “I'm taking Sophie home.”

  “Brannon,” Lily laughed, “it’s not even eleven.”

  “Yeah, Lily,” I replied, “I’m aware of that. But she’s done.”

  Pauline snickered. “She’s a bit of a lightweight.”

  “She drank a lot, though,” Lily said. “She was doing shots right and left. And I don’t think she ate much before we got here.”

  “Well, I am so not ready to go yet,” Pauline grinned. “I’m just getting started.”

  Lily nodded at me. “We’re good, Brannon,” she said. “Just take care of your girl.”

  “His girl?” Ruth giggled. “Since when does Brannon have a girl? She’s not gonna be much use to you tonight. Maybe you should stay. You could get up on stage and dance to entertain us, and then we could entertain you.”

  I flashed her what I hoped simply seemed like a bland smile, even though it must have shown every ounce of discomfort I was feeling at the moment. “I’ll pass, Ruth, but thanks,” I said and started towards the door.

  Sophie reminded me of Jell-O as I settled her in my car and buckled her seatbelt. A hint of a moan passed through her lips when I climbed into the driver’s seat, and she curled sideways, facing me, and closed her eyes.

  “Everything is moving,” she groaned.

  “Did you at least have a good time?” I asked with a half a smile touching my lips.

  Her eyes stayed closed, but she grinned. “It was awesome.”

  She sort of dozed a little, or passed out a little, as we headed down the highway towards Ophir. As I turned off the interstate onto the two-lane road to town, the movement pulled her head to the side, and she lifted it rather suddenly.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered hoarsely, “pull over, please. I’m gonna throw up.”

  Fortunately, I’d slowed for the corner anyway, so I was able to quickly pull off to the side of the road as Sophie fumbled to release her seatbelt. In a flash, faster than I ever could have imagined someone as drunk as her to move, she leapt out of the passenger seat and immediately fell to her knees on the ground, retching violently. Her body shook with the heaves as she expelled the excessive amount of alcohol she had consumed that night.

  I knelt on the ground behind her, pulled her back into my arms, and swept her hair back from her face. She looked positively green, even in the darkness of the night around us.

  “I feel horrible,” she groaned.

  “I believe it,” I replied with a rueful smile, shrugging off my jacket to cover her scantily clad body with the warmth.

  “Everything is spinning,” she said quietly.

  “Just lay still for a second, Soph. It’ll pass.”

  She relaxed against me, tucked into my body, as we sat there in the cool autumn night on the side of the road. For a second, I thought she might be falling asleep.

  “Brannon?”

  “Yeah, Soph?”

  “Is it weird that, as shitty as I feel, I’m also really proud of myself for getting this bombed?”

  I laughed. “Yeah, baby, that’s a little weird. But I’ve been there, and I know exactly what you mean. It’s like a rite of passage or some shit.”

  For a while, we just sat again in silence. A cool breeze blew across the field alongside the road, drawing the cool air off the mountains to the west, and Sophie breathed the fresh air in deeply.

  “I’m sorry I ruined your evening.”

  “I didn’t have a lot going on, Sophie.”

  She snorted a little in derision. “I can’t imagine a guy like you was just sitting home all alone.”

  “Well, no. I wasn’t sitting home all alone but—”

  Sophie suddenly pushed herself up away from me and staggered to stand, weaving a little as she reached down to dust off her short little skirt. “Right,” she said quietly. “Of course you weren’t.”

  “Wait a second. What does that mean?” I asked.

  “You’re Brannon F
orrester,” Sophie said, as if that explained everything.

  “And?”

  “And you’re very much in demand.”

  “I’m not following you, Sophie.”

  With a sigh, she turned and started walking towards my car. Or stumbling towards my car. Gingerly, since her shoes were tossed in my backseat, and the dry, rocky roadside couldn’t have felt too great on her bare feet.

  “You can just give me a ride home and then go back to whatever you were doing,” she said. “Or whoever you were doing.”

  “Whoa, hold on,” I gasped. “You think I was with another chick?”

  “I don’t have any foolish assumptions. I know who you are. I know what you do. And even if I didn’t, I was reminded tonight. A couple times.”

  There it was. Someone had gotten to her. Someone she was with tonight.

  Hot with an irritation I didn’t quite understand, I grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face me. She didn’t want to look up at me. That much was evident. She seemed to be fighting back something, tears or anger, I had no idea which.

  “Who was giving you shit about me tonight?” I growled.

  “It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head, struggling to pull away.

  “Yeah, actually it does. I don’t think Lily would say shit like that. She seems to be all gung ho on this thing we’ve got going.”

  “What thing?” Her eyes flashed up to meet mine for a second. “We just fuck, really. That’s it.”

  My first thought was, Bullshit. There was more to it. More to her. She had to feel it, too.

  “Okay,” I ground out through clenched teeth, “so you saying ‘fuck’ was really hot when you did it the other day. Not so much now.”

  “It’s true, though,” she tried to turn away again, jerking at her arm. “Everybody knows it. That’s what we do. That’s what you do.”

  I hated the accusation that rang out in her voice. “Sophie—” I warned.

  But she was on a roll.

  “I mean look how fast you slept with me. I said two or three words, and you were all ‘let’s go.’ It didn’t take much at all to get you in bed with me.”

  “No. Fuck no,” I harshly scowled as I wrestled to keep her close. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Sophie, still not looking up at me, was trying to pry my fingers off her arm. Still yanking and pulling away. And I still refused to release her.

  “Oh, whatever, Brannon. I’m blonde, but I’m not an idiot. You don’t have to act like I was anything special.”

  “Of course you were fucking special,” I shot back.

  “Oh, please,” she scoffed. “I came up to you, asked you to go fuck, and you said yes without even asking my name.” With that, she finally managed to rip herself away from me and headed once again to my car.

  “Dammit, Sophie,” I ground out in a gravelly voice, “I didn’t have to ask your fucking name. I’d already wanted you for years. I knew exactly who you were the minute you walked through the door.”

  That stopped her. Frozen solid. Slowly she turned back around to face me. The starlight and the gibbous moon reflected in the tear tracks down her face. I hadn’t even realized she was crying. Even drunk off her ass, she had hidden her face and controlled her voice so well. But this little revelation of mine stunned her completely, and, for a few moments, her guard fell.

  “You knew who I was?”

  Her voice sounded strange. Wary. It suddenly occurred to me that maybe I shouldn’t have just said that. Because God only knew what kind of crazy, twisted shit her highly intoxicated mind was going to do with that little bit of info.

  “Yes, I did.” I said cautiously as she started to back away, shaking her head. “Listen to me though. It’s not as creepy as it sounds.”

  “Oh my God,” she whispered, “you knew who I was.”

  I grabbed her shoulders, steadying her when she swayed against me.

  “Sophie, wait. Just give me a minute to explain this.”

  A small sob broke through, and the tears began to run down her face again. But I had to make her understand. I just had to.

  “I first saw you years ago,” I began haltingly, choosing my words carefully to help her understand what it was that really drew me to her. “It was a wedding in the park. Cody’s older brother was part of the band that played. Cody and I were helping them set up, move equipment, shit like that.”

  She stopped tugging her arm away and looked up at me with a suspicious glint in her eyes.

  “You had on this deep red dress that just… God… and it looked so… fuck… with all these little sparkly things on it.”

  My heart was pounding, rattling my ribs. I had been pretty sure that I was never going to tell her this. Unless, by some weird circumstance, we were old and gray sitting in little fucking rocking chairs on the front porch watching our grandkids play together. But it was kinda creepy, stalker behavior. Even I recognized that. She no doubt would, even sober. I sure as fuck didn’t want to tell her this now. Tonight. Especially since she was so schnockered.

  “You were there, sitting with that dickhead boyfriend of yours.”

  “Ex-boyfriend,” she corrected as though the reminder was second nature.

  “Ex-boyfriend. I don’t fuckin’ care about semantics at the moment. But you… God, you looked so pristine. Untouchable. Way out of my league.” She weakly jerked away, but I refused to let her go. I shifted to hold her more firmly with one hand and traced my fingertips down the curve of her cheek with the other, brushing away the damp trails of tears. “You were so not my type… like a porcelain doll, so sad and beautiful and untouchable. I couldn’t stop looking at you, and I couldn’t figure out why.”

  “I know why.” She shook her head sadly. “I was raised to get noticed.”

  “It wasn’t just how you looked, although, seriously, you could bring a saint to his knees. But there was something about you. Like if I waited, you would…” The words trailed off as I tried to articulate the way she had made me feel so long ago.

  “I would what?”

  “Surprise me. Show me the spirit that you seemed to be hiding behind a mask of politeness and serenity.”

  She bit her lip and sniffled a little, dropping her eyes down to the front of my shirt.

  “A while later, Cody and I were back smoking behind the pavilion, and I saw you again. You were walking all by yourself over near the fountain. I saw the sparkles of your dress in the moonlight.”

  I tipped her chin up and smiled down at her. Her tears had stopped. Her eyes were bright and her lashes all spiky from crying. But she was finally looking at me. Really looking at me.

  “You were staring at the fountain, and you got this look on your face. The first real expression you showed that night. You tossed your shoes aside and pulled your long skirt up past your knees.” I could see the wheels turning in her head, could actually see her remembering. The faint moonlight caught her eyes, making them glow like gemstones. “And you stepped into the fountain. Splashed your feet around. It was nutty and goofy. And it took my breath away.”

  “There was a sign on the fountain,” she quietly murmured. “It said no bathing. I thought it was kinda silly that they’d need to post that. It made me want to break their rule. That one seemed… safe, I guess.”

  “Good little girl wanting to be bad.”

  “Kind of a dork, really.”

  “Sophie, right then and there, you had me. I had no idea who you were that night, but I wanted to know what you were thinking. I wanted to see you push your limits and laugh at the stupid little arbitrary rules all around us. I wanted you to show the world what I saw that night.” I dipped my head closer to hers, a fraction of an inch from a kiss. “And it may sound completely emasculating, but I was kind of crushed when I found out who you were because that shot my hopes all to hell.”

  “Why?” she asked, her brow drawn tight.

  “Because you’re Sophie Buchanan. The Brannon Forresters of the world don’
t get the Sophie Buchanans.” I gave her a wry smile. “So, yeah, I knew who you were the second you walked through the door of that party… because you were the girl I’d wanted for years.”

  She quickly dropped her gaze and rested her head on my chest, rested her whole body against mine. I barely heard it when she softly said my name, just a whisper in the wind.

  “Brannon?”

  “Yeah, Soph?”

  “I don’t know what to think about this at the moment. I’m really drunk.”

  I tightened my arms around her. “You can be pissed at me after you sleep it off, if you want.”

  “Will you do me a favor?” she asked.

  “Anything,” I promised.

  She pulled back a little to look up at me. “If I don’t remember this conversation tomorrow, can we have it again?”

  I smiled gently down at her and gave her a tender kiss on the tip of her nose. “Absolutely.”

  She was still here with me. She wanted to be here with me, even after what I'd just told her.

  Thank fuck.

  The rest of the ride home was pretty uneventful. Sophie was freezing, so I convinced her to wear my jacket and I cranked the heat in the Cougar. She didn’t say much… anything really. But as we pulled back onto the road towards home, she reached over and slipped her hand into mine.

  I didn’t ask if she wanted to go home. I just took her back to my place and carried her inside, completely ignoring her when she said she could walk. I dug out a couple ibuprofen and the spare toothbrush. While she brushed her teeth and washed her face, I brought her a warm flannel shirt, a pair of thick socks, and an icy cold bottle of water.

  Then I stepped into the bedroom and tried really hard not to be a total creeper. Unsuccessfully, though. The reflection in the full-length mirror on my bedroom door gave me an enticing little glimpse of her beautiful little body while she changed clothes. The body that I had touched and tasted. That I fantasized about every time I closed my eyes.

  She walked out of the bathroom into my bedroom, a bit shy, a lot exhausted, and still far from sober. I sat on the edge of my bed and looked up as she came closer, barely containing the groan that fought to escape when I saw her smooth, silky legs with those wool socks bunched around her ankles. I held out my hand to her, silently asking her to come closer, and she did.