SOPHIE BROOKS:
Party, hook-up, hangover, repeat.
I don't do rules, responsibility, or monogamy.
So when the chance to sleep with the hottest Olympian swimmer in the country presents itself, you can be damn sure I take it.
And sneak out before he wa...
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Taking off without a goodbye and just leaving a note instead might seem a little bit rude. Or it might seem like I used him.
And I could spin tales about previous disastrous mornings after (look no further than small-dick-Jake) but the truth is, I just don't really care.
As far as I see it, last night was a mutual using. We both knew what it was going in.
I'm honestly a little surprised that I managed to wake up as early as I did, seeing how I'm still pretty spent from last night. That guy railed me good. Who knew he had talents outside the pool.
I think, at this point, my body has a particular response to one-night stands, and it includes waking at the buttcrack of dawn and fleeing the scene with as little evidence as possible.
You know, like a well-adjusted person.
As the Uber comes to a halt outside my apartment complex, I grab my clutch, ensuring that I have everything, and walk up to the building. An older man that I think lives a floor below us holds the door open for me as I enter the foyer. He's smiling at me politely, but as I pass, his eyes scan me quickly, taking in my attire and ending up on my face again, noticing my make-up, which I'm sure isn't on fleek anymore. His expression morphs into one of judgment, his lips thinning.
"Thank you, sir," I greet him in a sickly sweet voice. As I walk through the door, I throw a look over my shoulder. "Have a nice day." And then, for good measure, I send him a conspiratorial wink.
He looks downright flustered as he hurries out of the building.
"You're awful," the receptionist, Aria, says with a shake of her head as I pass her station.
"Don't I know it," I call back to her as I disappear into the elevator.
🏊♂️
As I enter the kitchen, I'm surprised to find that Jen is already awake, sitting at the kitchen island with a bowl of cereal and a cup containing some cream-colored concoction disguised as coffee in front of her.
She's still in her pajamas, and her sour expression tells me that it wasn't with her good will that she got up at this hour.
"Hi," I say carefully, moving around the island to get to the fridge and grab myself a glass of apple juice. "Why are you up?"
"It's morning," she mumbles, but if she thinks that explanation is going to cut it, she's wrong.
I turn to look at her, frowning slightly. "Your first class is at 10... So again, why are you awake?"
She's avoiding my gaze. "Darren called."
That son of a bitch.
I know for a fact she told him she was sleeping in today.
