Breakfast with Frenemies

When I opened my eyes in the morning, the sun was streaming in the window. I jumped a little when I felt someone next to me, and quickly relaxed when I remembered the night before. It had been so long since I'd actually shared a bed with someone that waking with someone else was foreign. Brody was laying on his stomach, and the tattoo across his ribs I'd caught a glimpse of at the cabin was mostly visible. I read it, realizing it was a stanza from my favorite poem. I whispered the words as I read them.

"stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain 
how children are apt to forget to remember 
with up so floating many bells down)"

Beneath it was what looked like a date, but the sheet was covering part of it. I carefully got out of bed and walked into the bathroom. When I returned, I tried to slip back in bed without waking Brody, but he rolled onto his side and opened one eye. When he saw me, he blinked and smiled sleepily.

"Sorry I woke you," I whispered.

"Don't be, come here," he replied, reaching for me. I rolled over, pressing my back into his chest. He wrapped his arm around my waist and slipped one of his knees between mine.  We laid like that for several minutes, and I thought he had fallen back asleep.  I realized I was wrong when his hand slid along my hip and his mouth found my shoulder.

"I thought you went back to sleep," I teased quietly, as his hand ran down my leg.

"Thought about it," he murmured back huskily.  "Changed my mind."

"Making up for--" my words cut off as his hand slipped between my legs.  I breathed in sharply, curling my foot under his leg.

"What were you saying?" he asked, stilling his hand.

"I said, are you making up for lost--" Again he started moving his fingers against me.

He laughed softly.  "Still didn't get that," he said, his lips close to my ear.

"Shut. Up," I gasped, arching my back against him.  "You're a horrible tease!"

He laughed again, but didn't stop his hand this time.  He brought me to the brink of orgasm, then paused to grab a condom out of the drawer.  He rolled it on quickly and pushed into me, still on our sides.  Unlike last night, he didn't bother moving slowly or drawing it out.  He moved his hand back between my legs and rubbed in quick circles as he thrust into me, his other arm wrapped around my waist from underneath.  It couldn't have been more than a minute or two before I finished, crying out and clamping my knees against his leg.  He rolled me onto my stomach, propping my hips up slightly with one arm, and leaned over me, thrusting quickly.  I moaned and rocked my hips back into him, and then his arm tightened around me and he gasped.  He stayed like that for a long second, our hips locked together, before he released me and slid to the side.

I turned my head towards him, but stayed on my stomach, completely out of breath.  Our eyes met, and he stared at me with those intense green eyes.   He reached out and brushed a tangle of my blonde hair behind my ear, then rested his hand on my jaw.  His fingers traced my cheekbone and then the contours of my ear and jaw.  I closed my eyes, enjoying his touch.  His voice broke into my thoughts.

"What do you want to do today?"

"Mmmmm....lay here," I said back.

He laughed and propped himself up on his elbow.  "We might need to eat at some point, don't you think?"

"I guess," I replied.  My eyes fell to his tattoo.  I could see the date now.  December 8, 2002.  Before I could stop myself, I reached out, running my fingertips over the words of the poem.

"e.e. cummings," he said softly.

"I know," I replied.  "'anyone lived in a pretty how town.'  It's my favorite poem."  My fingers stopped at the date, and I looked at him, a question in my eyes.

"It was my sister's favorite poem too."  He stopped and took a deep breath.  "She died when I was 17."  I reached out for his hand and scooted closer to him.  He laid on his back, running his thumb over the back of my hand.  "Heather was 19.  We were living in Seattle, and she was going to school at UW Tacoma.  She was in a car accident on I5 just north of SeaTac.  As far as they could tell, it was sometime between about 1 and 2 in the morning.  There had been freezing rain earlier and the roads were slick.  They only found her and her car, but the police said it looked like she had been hit by something big, like a full sized pickup or SUV."

I gritted my teeth, struggling to keep my composure.  He was looking over my shoulder, his eyes sad but calm.  They hardened a bit as he continued, though.

"We found out later she had gotten into a fight with her boyfriend.  She was staying with him at the time because she wasn't getting along with her roommate.  She decided to drive home even though the roads were bad and it was late.  The coroner said..." he trailed off, and took a deep, shuddering breath.  "The coroner said that she died from internal injuries."  He let out a short, bitter laugh and closed his eyes.  "Somehow, she had no head injuries, so she was probably conscious for at least a little while.  She was pinned in place by her mangled car, so she couldn't even call for help.  They never did figure out who it was.  Whoever it was got off scot-free, and my sister died alone in a ditch."  As he spit out the last sentence, his eyes opened, fixing on the ceiling fan and blazing with suppressed anger.

I was shocked.   I struggled for words, but all that popped into my mind were canned therapy responses, and he deserved better than that.  Instead, I slid all the way over and rested my head on his chest, curling my fingers into his hair and massaging his scalp.

"I'm sorry," he said, after a moment.  "I'm really good at making terrible conversational choices when I'm with you, apparently."

"No, I just...don't know what to say that isn't 'I'm sorry' or 'That must have been very hard for you,'" I admitted.  "But I'm grateful that you felt like you could share it with me, and I think the tattoo is perfect."

Neither of us said anything for several minutes, just laid there, twined together.  He absently stroked the back of my arm, and I started drifting back into sleep.  We were startled by Brody's phone, ringing from his pants on the floor.  He made no move to get it, though.  After the ringing stopped, it pinged.  Then it pinged again.  And again.

"Make it stopppp," I groaned, rolling away from him and pulling a pillow over my face.  He laughed and stood up, rooting through discarded clothes and blankets on the floor before he found it.  He examined it for a minute, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Feel like brunch?" he asked.

"Maybe.  How long do we have?"

"About an hour," he replied, looking up at me, poised to text back my response.

"Why so soon?  It's early!" I complained, my voice muffled by the pillow still over my face.

Brody laughed.  "You must finally be used to the time difference.  It's after 10:30."

"Oh, wow," I said, surprised, shifting the pillow a little to look at him.  "In that case, why not.  I might not get up otherwise."

He sent a quick text back then stood up.  "I have a change of clothes in my car.  I'm going to go out and get them."  He pulled on his pants and shirt from last night, then bent to kiss my forehead, pulling the pillow away from my face.  "You better be up and in the shower by the time I get back!"  I swatted his hand away and sat up.

I was much more awake after my shower, and I made some coffee while Brody was showering.  When he appeared in the kitchen in khaki shorts and a blue and green striped button down with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, dark hair still wet from the shower, I briefly considered just skipping brunch and going back to bed.  I kissed him as I handed him some coffee, and he caught me as I pulled away to head upstairs and kissed me again.  I let him, then pushed him away playfully so I could finish getting ready.  I quickly dried my hair and put on some makeup, and we were out the door.

The only person that seemed surprised to see us walk in the door hand in hand was Alex.  Savannah might have been surprised, but her fake smile didn't falter.  Lauren shifted a seat closer to Christian so Brody and I could sit next to each other.  Unfortunately, I ended up directly across the table from Savannah.  But she just smiled sweetly at me and asked how I was.

"I'm good, thanks.  How are you?" I responded politely.  I didn't know what she was up to, but I figured that being polite but not overly friendly was the safest bet. 

"I'm great!  We missed you at happy hour on Thursday."  She beamed at me. 

"Oh, were you there?"  She nodded, still smiling.  How could she have been at happy hour, and also have seen me leave the restaurant with John?

Brody put a warning hand on my knee.  I ignored it and pushed forward, forgetting my decision to be polite.  "I've heard the past couple have been pretty exciting.  It's too bad I've been otherwise engaged."  Brody squeezed my knee harder.  Savannah's smile faltered for a fleeting second, but then it was back, bigger than ever.

"Yes, you could say that!"  Her pretty face turned towards Brody.  "We've missed you too.  You should come this week for sure."  Did she seriously just bat her eyelashes at him?  Gross.

I turned to Lauren, who had elbowed me in the side.  "We need to talk," she hissed. 

"Come over tonight?" I whispered back.  She nodded.  Brody was looking at us curiously, and I realized that Savannah was chattering away to Kendra next to her, paying no more attention to Brody or me.

The rest of brunch passed relatively uneventfully.  Savannah continued her fake cheerful act, but I did my best to ignore her.  As soon as we were done eating, we took off.  When we got back to my house, Brody parked his Sequoia in my driveway, but didn't turn it off.  He turned to me.  "I have a bunch of stuff to do at home, and if I procrastinate any longer, I will be sorry tonight when I'm scrambling."

I nodded.  As much I hadn't minded spending the last 17 hours with him, I was also ready for a little "me" time before Lauren came over.  I needed to do some laundry and watch some trashy TV.  He walked with me inside, leaving his SUV running.  "If I turn it off, I'm worried I'll get distracted," he said with a laugh as he came in to gather his clothes from the night before, which he'd left in a neat pile on the end of the bed.

"That would be awful," I said with a grin.  I walked downstairs with him.  At the door, I put my arms around his waist and leaned my head against his chest.  "Thank you," I said, my voice slightly muffled.  "Last night was awesome, and..." I trailed off, not sure where exactly I was going with that.

He kissed the top of my head and massaged my lower back with one hand.  "I know," he said simply.  "I'll call you."  He tipped my chin up and kissed me, and left. 

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What do you think?  Is Savannah finally accepting Liv and giving up on Brody?  Or is she up to something?