Skinny Dipping

by Kaye, Alicia M

  “Well Matthew, you must be truly amazing if you’ve got her out of work and finally having fun, I never get a chance to see her, on any night,” Carol said.

  “She doesn’t go out?” Matthew shot Sophie a grin. “I bet she chains herself down to her laptop.”

  “If she was an environmentalist, she’d be out there tree hugging and camped out in front of the bull dozers. That’s how passionate she is about her job,” Carol continued. “The way she goes on and on about her different campaigns at home.”

  Josh was surly. “She needs to get a life. No one likes their job that much.”

  “I do,” Sophie muttered.

  There was a chorus of laugher. “My God she’s the teacher’s fucking pet,” Carol beamed. “I agree with you Josh, she needs to get a life.”

  “Let’s all help with that.” Matthew winked pointedly at Sophie. “Let’s help Sophie get a life.”

  “I’m here. Right in front of you all.” Sophie lifted her chin indignantly. “I wouldn’t say I’d do tree hugging.”

  “If you were a vet, you’d be sleeping in cages, with the animals. You’d probably even have cats bum hair in your cardigans,” Carol teased. Although, she could hardly talk from the look of her long feline like fingernails.

  “There’s nothing wrong with liking your job. You love dancing,” Sophie pointed out.

  “I also live a bit. Matthew, let’s take bets. I bet she won’t stay long. Work you see… too important.” Carol lifted a knowing eyebrow and Sophie could have hit her.

  “I’m still here,” Sophie exclaimed.

  “She gets terribly cranky sometimes. All that work.” Carol shook her head knowingly.

  “Let’s start these tequila shots,” Josh started, looking at Carol.

  “Tequila? Up for the challenge, Soph? How long will you stay out and have fun?” Matthew raised a lemon slice to Sophie.

  “I have fun, I do stay out. And I like a challenge.” She raised her shooter as a signal, she wouldn’t back down. This could get dangerous, two handsome men in the bar with tequila shots and a bottle of champagne on the way.

  Matthew lifted a shot of tequila in acknowledgement. “You’re on.” He tipped the drink down and Sophie followed suit, pouring the shot into her mouth. The liquid tasted ghastly and instantly warmed her from the inside.

  “I have a nickname for you too,” Matthew started. “If I’m Mr. Swimming Coach, well, you’re Miss Fun-Time.”

  “Miss Fun-Time?” Sophie half smiled. “You make me sound like a Thai hooker.”

  Matthew shrugged. “How would I know what Miss Fun-Time gets up to in her spare time?”

  “She’s not having fun with you,” Josh joined in.

  “Tequila time, Sophie? Repeat,” Matthew shouted, urging the tray of shots to them. She had no choice but to go along with it.

  ***

  After the pub closed, the four decided the night was still young. They bought bottles of champagne and the girls invited them to their house. Even though it was November, they sat outside in the overgrown garden, wearing coats, mostly because Carol was smoking. The outdoor table was filled with champagne flutes and empty bottles of wine. Carol practically filled an entire ashtray with cigarette butts.

  They played Spice Girls and Michael Bublé, and every now and then one of the neighbours yelled over the back fence, telling them to be quiet.

  “I always wanted to be a Spice Girl when I was young,” Sophie whispered with joviality.

  “What a great Spice Girl you would have been,” Carol insisted.

  “Can we stop all this talk about the Spice Girls?” Josh laughed.

  “Not manly enough? Let’s do something else. I know, we’ll have a piggy back race,” Matthew asserted. “Sophie you’re in my team.”

  “You’ll probably drop me.”

  “Now you’ll just have to trust that I won’t. Besides, I thought we already worked in synchronicity.”

  He had a point, all their bobbing at the pool, where they looked like synchronised swimmers. Sophie leapt from her seat, springing onto Matthew’s back. Her legs wrapping round his slim waist. She ran her hands over his muscular back, appreciating his square shoulders.

  Carol was suddenly clutching Josh, legs around his waist, grappling to find her balance.

  “They’re going to win. She’s so light and thin,” Sophie whispered in his ear.

  “I’ve got a plan.” His voice was low.

  She leaned closer toward his neck. “What is it?”

  “Let’s just have fun.”

  “Fun and not winning?”

  He nodded his head. “It’s not always about the winning, it’s the journey.”

  Sophie laughed. “Okay. Let’s do this for fun then.”

  On the count of three, they raced the length of the garden. Matthew steamed ahead for two strides. He carried Sophie as if she were light as a feather. Then the inevitable happened and he stumbled on the bricks, falling on the floor. Sophie laughed until her stomach hurt.

  “You okay?” Matthew asked.

  “Grand,” she said, touching her knee, feeling a bruise. “You?”

  “Perfect,” he stood up, grabbing her hand.

  Carol and Josh disappeared inside, looking for warmth and a heater.

  Matthew still held onto her hand, and a sensation of desire swept over her. Sophie shook herself.

  This was Matthew, her client. She couldn’t mix business and pleasure. Besides, he’d told her only moments earlier about his ex girlfriend. Did he make it all up, just to have a go at getting her into bed or something?

  “So,” she started, feeling her body stiffen a little, all men were the same weren’t they? She extracted herself, her hands, from his by brushing down her coat. “It’s kind of cold isn’t it? Want to go inside?”

  “Yeah.” He said turning away immediately, taking a few empty bottles from the garden table, neither of them looked each other in the eye.

  In the kitchen, Sophie took the glass bottles, placing them under the sink. She noticed Carol and Josh, quite intense on the couch. The girlfriend code was to give them space, and she found herself suddenly looking up at Matthew.

  “You see Matthew I just recently broke up with Derek.”

  “That’s right, you said,” Matthew agreed.

  “Half my stuff is still at his place.”

  “Why don’t you get it?”

  “He’s got a new girlfriend already, and after we’d been together for so long. I feel so silly for trusting him at all. I should have seen it.” She felt a raw stab of pain.

  “That’s hard, but you still need to get your things, right?”

  “Yeah, I guess I do.”

  “Do you need some help? I mean, getting your stuff out. You can’t move on with your stuff still at his place.”

  Sophie nodded. “I know. I’m going to ring him.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yep.” She didn’t need many excuses. This was as good as any.

  Matthew’s face suddenly looked stricken. “You don’t mean now. Sophie? It’s late. It’s not a good idea.”

  She suddenly felt confident, the alcohol whirling through her body. “No, I’m going to ring him.”

  “You’ve had quite a few drinks. Trust me. You’ll regret it.” He looked intensely at her.

  “No, this is perfect. This is the time. Otherwise, I won’t do it.”

  “You could always send a text if you feel like you must. A text is not so, in-your-face, as a 2 a.m. wake-up call.”

  “I’m doing it.”

  “I want you to ask Carol first; ask Josh, even ask Mickey, but it’s not a good idea to drink and dial.”

  “Don’t you want to help me?” She looked up at him. “I trusted you to be on my side.”

  “Trust me when I tell you this: It’s not a good idea. And you can trust me to help you, but I think you’ll feel much better in the morning, and so much better with yourself if you sleep on the phone call,” he urged.

 
“Okay, so we’re on, this Saturday, you and me, moving out of Derek’s?” She found her mobile phone, and started running down the numbers, searching for his name. A for Adam. B for Ben. C for Catherine, Claire, Clyde.

  “Okay, we’re on, but don’t call now.” He grabbed the mobile phone from her hands.

  “We’re not on if I can’t call, we’re only on for Saturday if you…if you…”

  “If I what?” Matthew laughed. “If I what Sophie?” His eyes were twinkling.

  “We’re only on for Saturday if you give me back that phone and you go to the ballet with me, to see Carol’s show.” She thrust her hand out. He would not go to the ballet. “See I knew you wouldn’t want to go, so give me the phone. I’ve got a call to make.”

  “Actually, I won’t give you back the phone but I would love to go and see Carol in the ballet.” He pushed the mobile phone in his front jeans pocket. “As a friend, Sophie Smart, you will have to get into my jeans if you want to call him. You will thank me in the morning.”

  “Do all girls thank you in the morning?”

  He threw his head back, laughing. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” His voice was playful.

  Her eyes darted from his face, to his jeans where the mobile phone bulged and then back to his dancing eyes. “Is that a challenge?”

  A dimple formed on his cheek. “I dare you,” he said, nodding coyly.

  Sophie lunged at him. He was on.

  ***

  Matthew was sprawled on the timber floor when Sophie woke up. She jolted, lifting her body up into a position. Her head spun round like she’d been riding a carrousel for hours. Nausea rippled through her body. Her frenzied hands patted down her body like an airport security guard.

  T-shirt, on. Jeans, on. She was fully clothed. Matthew’s shirt rode up showing his flat stomach, but despite the absence of his shoes and socks, he was also completely dressed.

  She closed her eyes briefly, she’d been lucky, known in the past to make a drunken move. She rolled her eyes as images flashed through her mind. They’d flirted outrageously, she knew that.

  Matthew was on the same floor, now, sleeping.

  There was no one else in the room, just Matthew groaning. Sophie ran her hands through her hair, imagining the state it must be in and like a burglar she lifted herself up from the couch. Her stomach revolted at the movement.

  She crept upstairs and past the bathroom, seeing Carol who was leaning over the sink, removing her makeup from the night before. Sunlight streamed into the bathroom, that was not a good sign. It was always dark in London in the morning. Sophie’s throat felt like she’d swallowed razor blades. She could see Carol’s wide grin, from ear to ear.

  “Do you know what time it is? I’m going to be so late for work.”

  “No idea. Seven I think?”

  “Shit. Oh my God, my Dad’s coming round here. Remember I told you, he lost his job.”

  “Sure, sure. No worries. I’ve got rehearsal all day anyway. I won’t be around.”

  “What happened last night? I have the strangest of memories,” Sophie whispered. Carol’s face shone, radiating. She threw a dirty cotton ball into the sink and grabbed Sophie by the hands. She swung her around the bathroom in a ring. Wisps of hair floated around Carol’s forehead, her hair tumbled around her shoulders.

  “I think I’m in love,” she said.

  Sophie stopped, clutching her stomach. “What?” She was indeed hung over.

  “Josh, he’s so amazing,” Carol said. “He left a few hours ago, Matthew was passed out by then, and we couldn’t wake him.”

  “Oh, so what else happened?” She paused. “Did I do anything with Matthew? I can’t remember a thing.”

  “Well,” Carol said, speaking slowly. “He saved you from yourself. You were insistent on drinking and dialling, but he stopped you.”

  A slight memory flicked in her mind. “Oh yes, that’s right.”

  “Why would he do that for me?”

  “So you didn’t come across as a complete desperado, calling your ex in the middle of the night. So you could do it when you were sober.”

  “Oh, that was nice of him, I suppose.”

  “Yes, it was nice of him. But,” Carol continued. “You forced him to ring Mickey, and she’s arranging for you to get your things on Saturday.”

  “No, no….” Sophie’s chest constricted. “If I do that, it’s really over. Really and truly over. Not temporary.”

  Carol sighed. “Derek’s seeing someone else Soph. He cheated on you and he hasn’t even tried to apologise to you about it. Besides, Matthew’s agreed to help you. He insisted, offering his services to help you move from your old apartment. He’ll be a hunk of a mover and you’re both going to my show. I can’t figure out whether it’s a date or just as friends, how did that even get into the bargain?”

  “I have no idea. What the hell am I going to do? I can’t move my stuff.”

  “You need to. Even if Matthew’s just a friend, he’ll help you get your stuff. You need to move on.”

  “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

  “Just run with it. Go with the flow. Matthew’s a nice guy. Harmless – and hot.”

  Chapter 15

  Sophie ran down the stairs, to where Matthew still lay on the floor, looking comatose. She needed to get him up, firstly off the floor. Using a manicured finger she prodded him.

  “Morning Matt,” she said.

  He opened a bleary eye. “Matt?” He shut his eyes. “Am I already saddled with a new nickname? What happened to Mr. Swimming Coach? Taskmaster? And Miss Smart, how are you today?”

  “You’ve got to get up.”

  “Little Miss Persistent.” He rolled over. “That’s what I’ll call you.”

  “Oh, I don’t like that.” But it was better than Miss Fun-Time. Thank God he’s forgotten about that nickname.

  “Miss Pest.” He began to laugh. God, he was still drunk.

  “Nope.” She bit her lip, refrained from seeing the humour in his responses, or she’d never get him out of there.

  “Oh, right. You preferred Miss Mermaid. Pardon me, I forgot.”

  “My Dad’s going to be here any minute. You need to get up and go.”

  “What is the time now? I’ll call a car, a taxi, how about the one that almost killed me that night?” He laughed.

  “Or you could walk to the Highbury Aquatic Centre; Carol will take you.” She offered a solution. She was a solutions type of girl.

  “Now there is a possibility.”

  “Here, have something for the headache.” She handed him a tablet and a glass of water, and he took them both, groaning. “How about I help you stand up. My Dad really is going to be here soon.”

  “Oh God.” He sat up, held onto the coffee table. “Am I going to puke?”

  “If you need to puke, just let me know.” Her voice was filled with mock seriousness. What was she going to do if he vomited all over the floor? Were there any other windows to let in fresh air?

  “I’ve met your Dad. He’s cool. Maybe I should just stay, we could chat a bit. I could talk to him, really get to know him.” Matthew collapsed down back on the floor, closed his eyes.

  “No. He’ll think….”

  Matthew opened his eyes. “Would that be so bad? After all, you were trying to get into my jeans all night.”

  Sophie couldn’t help but laugh. Then stopped, adopting a serious expression. “Dad would get the wrong idea about me and you. He’d think there was more to us, considering….”

  “Considering….”

  “I work for you. He’d think I was sleeping around to get a promotion and the fact is, we’re. We’re. Um...” She stopped. What exactly were they? Client and consultant? Swimming coach and water freak?

  “We’re what?” He persisted, his eyes settling on hers.

  “Um…”

  “Going to the theatre together?” A dimple formed on the side of his cheek. “Whatever that makes us, but you asked me.” He pointed at her. “That mea
ns you want me to come, and maybe you might even like my company and might stop hating me because of all the swimming lessons.”

  How did she answer a question like this? “Yes,” she said slowly. “So, I guess we’re friends?” she said, carefully. “Yes, just friends; that settles it, doesn’t it? And now you’ve got to go.” She was beginning to panic, this wasn’t the time to get into a deep conversation.

  “Yeah, yeah.” He nodded, closed his eyes. “It’s hard being Daddy’s little girl, isn’t it? Got to keep up appearances. Must get tiring.”

  “You need to get up.” She reached for his hand and the door buzzer rang.

  “Get up quick,” Sophie said, grabbing his arm, as muscular as he was, his body seemed to floppy like a rag doll. He stood up, barely able to take a step. Why was he the only one still plastered?

  “It’s got to be Dad.”

  Carol was staring at them from the hallway with a look of deep concern. “What are you going to do with him?”

  “I’ll put him in my room, while you answer the door.”

  Carol raised her eyebrows. “All right.”

  “Matthew, upstairs,” Sophie instructed with a serious tone.

  “I’ve met him before. It will be fine. Remember, at the pool?”

  “No. No. No. It won’t be fine.” She grabbed Matthew’s hand, then practically dragged him up the stairs, down the corridor, to her doorway. “Well this is my room.” She pushed the door open.

  “Well I’ve been waiting for this invitation, you left it so long.” He was swaying slightly on the spot. “So do you really consider us friends?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Holy crap,” he said, freezing at the doorway, his eyes darting around wildly.

  “Get in,” she hissed.

  “How?” His eyes were round, looking at the boxes everywhere.

  She poked her head. “Shimmy.”

  “Shimmy?”

  “Yeah, shimmy, they’re just boxes. Hide under the covers.”

  Doubt flickered across his face. “Is it safe?”

  “Yes.”

  “You really haven’t moved in yet, have you?” He looked concerned. “Are we still on for Saturday?” How did he remember that, considering how drunk he was – how drunk he still seemed to be – how did he remember the move on Saturday?