She brings a hand up and rubs her temple. “Okay, I’m not sure how we got our wires crossed, but—”
“Oh, no. You were perfectly clear,” I hiss, my jaw so tight, I’m afraid I’ll break a molar.
“Then I don’t see the problem.”
“Clearly.”
“So I guess your request to be friends is retracted?”
“Fuck yeah, it is! What the fuck was this, Sofia? I told you I want to spend time with you, and you what? Want to be able to tell your friends you fucked a rock star? You’re just some fucking groupie who wants to brag she nailed Brenner Reindhart?”
Her eyes narrow, and her calmness is maddening. “You can’t help but be an asshole, can you?”
“I’m the asshole?” I yell.
“You came looking for me, Brenner. It wasn’t the other way around, so you better watch your accusations. Trust me, I’ll never tell anyone I took an asshole like you to bed.”
“Unbelievable,” I say. I’m fuming as I gather my clothes from all corners of her apartment, a task that only takes longer in my fury.
“I’m unbelievable?” she says, her voice rising now as she follows. “I told you what this was, exactly what it was, and now you want to act all butt-hurt because I meant it—”
This woman is infuriating. Finally, I’m almost done dressing and pull my shirt over my head. “I can’t believe this—”
“What?” she challenges. “What can’t you believe?”
“I’m Brenner fucking Reindhart. I can’t believe a fucking groupie used me and is kicking me out without so much as a—”
“Ugh! I’m not a groupie. And before you fall off your mighty high horse, consider you don’t even know my last name. You don’t know anything about me. So how hurt can you really be?”
“I wanted to spend time with you to learn those things—”
“No, you wanted to use me for sex and didn’t expect that that’s all I wanted too. You’re just pissed I beat you to it.”
I blink at her. No. That’s not what I’m mad about. I study her rigid features. Is this what she’s used to? Men using her for sex? Empathy wants to take over, but then my eyes track her hand still holding the door, pointing out, and the anger takes over again.
“It’s not a competition!” I yell.
“Agreed. Then why are we yelling?” she shouts.
I shake my head as I make my way to the door and mumble under my breath, “Fucking Americans.”
Sofia must have heard me because I hear her cry out after me, “You don’t even know where I’m from!” Then she slams the door.
FIVE
Sofia
“You look tired,” Ileana, my part-time waitress, says.
“Thanks. Love you too.”
“You’re just not your normal self this morning. What’s wrong?”
“I had quite the night,” I say.
After the fight with Bren and kicking him out of my apartment, I promised myself I would take the memories of that night to my grave. Still, I’m unsettled by how everything went down. I am not sure why, but I regret how things ended.
I reason it is because I always, and I do mean always, remain on friendly terms with my lovers. The fight with Bren threw me off, and I have thought of little else since he left.