When Girlfriends Break Hearts by Savannah Page Read Free Book Online

my life.
      “For old times’ sake, I guess,” I whispered, my lips barely grazing over his.  
    The wine was really making my head feel loopy. Placing a finger on his lips, I added, “Just know this. I’m feeling kinda drunk. I can’t drive home. And I’m feeling pretty good about not having this go anywhere…serious.  
    “And I think it’s time I let myself have a mindless screw with someone I have no intentions of seeing ever again.” I spoke these words with a mixture of brutality and vindication. I wanted to drive the point home, wanted him to feel it. I wanted to do something stupid, take control, and not look back. Well, I’d look back, but it’d be with a wave goodbye to Brandon and a “thanks for last night, now don’t ever contact me.”
    He smiled his signature “I’m a little drunk” smile and put his hands on my waist. He leaned in for a kiss, but before our lips locked he whispered, “You silly girl.” Did he believe I could do it? Did he think I would leave tomorrow morning, unattached, wanting nothing more?
    His lips touched mine and immediately I recalled how much I missed his soft lips. His touch and his smell and his presence were overwhelming and absolutely intoxicating. I let myself over to a lust my mother would have scorned me for, a passion the best Hollywood directors strive to capture onscreen, and a feeling that I knew would last only until dawn, when I would gather my belongings and once and for all leave Brandon’s life for good.

Chapter Six
     
    The bright morning light was burning right into my eyelids, beckoning me awake. I carefully squinted into the rays of morning sun that were beginning to peek through the bedroom curtains. I rubbed at my sleep crusted eyes, and as I got up to read the familiar alarm clock on what was once my side of the bed, I felt the sudden onrush of a headache characteristic of too much drinking. I groaned. Today was not going to be a good day.
    The alarm clock read 07:32 and I groaned again. What happened last night? And then, as I sat up, it hit me. I knew exactly what had happened. There was no remorse; however, suddenly the prospect of an awkward morning-after goodbye and returning to face Claire seemed daunting. Why did I do this? Planning under the influence of alcohol was a bad idea. I should have learned that lesson from my college days.
    I looked around for my iPhone and spotted it on the nightstand on Brandon’s side of the bed. I wasn’t about to show him any kindness so I crawled over him to snag my phone. As predicted, I had about a dozen missed calls and texts from Claire, one of which said, Where the HELL ARE YOU? Reading that one was enough for me to toss the phone onto the comforter and opt to deal with that situation later.
    My movements had awoken Brandon and he slowly came to early morning life.  
    “Hey,” he said groggily. He blindly reached his arm out to try to rest a hand on me. I don’t know why.  
    My blood boiled. This was a bad idea. But if the whole point of going through these motions was to try to gain some form of control, I couldn’t lose it. I had to gather my clothes, do what I planned I would do, and say so long to the jackass I foolishly decided to have one last hurrah with.
    “Brandon,” I said, getting up, although landing two feet on the ground did not make my hangover feel any better. “I’ve got to go.” I slipped back into my dress that I snagged from the floor, then searched for my favorite pair of shoes.
    He sat up, the comforter falling to his waist, exposing his fine chest—not very well defined, but well enough. GQ enough. His tousled hair added to the aura of yumminess that I knew I needed to close the book on. For good.
    “It was nice last night,” I started, dropping to the floor, searching for my Jimmy Choos underneath the bed. “But it was just one night…” I searched madly, crawling around toward the other side; nothing. “…and we’re officially done.” I found them