by Gabrielle G.
“Thanks.” I turn and leave him behind, his hands in his pockets and a frown on his face.
I chit-chat for a while with some guests, answering how I feel and hearing how I’m better off alone for a while. I'm in control and almost enjoying myself, when all of a sudden, a voice I know too well is calling, “Baby.”
I freeze, my eyes searching for Ryan and Jo, as I wonder why they invited Paul to their party. I don't have time to blink before Ian and Ryan pop around me, one by my side the other one in front of me, like human shields.
“Baby. Finally! I want to talk to you!” Paul is obviously drunk. And because of Ian, I’m not, but I wish I were.
“Don’t come closer,” Ryan threatens.
I can feel all eyes on us now, and nausea is building in my stomach. Ian tries to pull me back, whispering to me to come with him, but I can’t move. My feet are anchored to the floor, and my eyes are on Paul and Ryan. Paul is looking for a pardon and wanting to explain. Even if a part of me wants to strangle him, another part of me wants to listen to his explanation and forgive him. I want to be Paul and Julie again—not because I still love him but because I miss the comfort of being in a relationship, blocking the fear of an uncertain future.
Ian holds my elbow tighter. “Jules, come!” he says in an authoritative voice.
“Of course you two dickheads are there to protect her. You always wanted to fuck her! Do you think you can double penetrate her? It’ll go faster! Wouldn’t you like that, sweetpea?”
Tears are running down my cheeks, blurring my vision until all I can see are the shapes of my best friend moving toward my ex. In one second, Ryan is punching Paul. Jo runs to Ryan and tries to calm him down while Ian scoops me up and carries me toward the bathroom.
All I can hear is Ryan screaming, “Get the fuck away from my property and never come close to Jules or I will fucking kill you, dickhead!”
Ian puts me down on the floor, where I stumble. He holds me tight as I sob as if my Chihuahua is dead, my Botox went wrong, and my broken heart has shattered into a thousand pieces.
I’m so glad I left my couch and my ice cream. Great fucking party. Thanks, Ryan!
2 Ian
The first time I saw Julie, she was on Paul’s arm, looking at him with adoration. I was a goner at that exact moment. I remember asking Ryan who she was and him telling me she was like his little sister so I should forget it. She seemed happy, so I moved on. There was no need to dwell on it. I wasn’t going to compete for the girlfriend of the “most talented country singer of his generation.” I wasn’t going to fight with one of my friends, and I wasn’t going to be the douche who breaks up a relationship.
That was four years ago. Every time we spent time together in a group setting after that, my heart fluttered at her laugh and my dick pulsated at the sight of her, even if she never looked my way.
So when Ryan asked me to go pick up his best friend, I was intrigued. Of course, I had heard the rumors of their breakup—I don’t live on Mars—but I had no idea what state of mind she would be in. Ryan said it might be bad, but I didn’t think I would find her so broken.
A fact about me you will never find anywhere? I’m a sucker for a damsel in distress.
So when Jules opened the door and appeared with greasy hair, swollen eyes, and smelling more like onions than flowers, my heart skipped a beat. All I wanted was to take care of her. I know, kind of sick, right? When she looked at me with such despair and asked me not to tell Ryan about her forgetting to wear shoes, my heart exploded. I’m pretty sure I would have done anything to make her smile.
Unfortunately, now I’m holding her in my arms, sitting on a cold bathroom floor, waiting for Ryan’s security to throw people out of his party so she can feel less humiliated. The whole story was bad, but it’s gotten worse and she doesn’t need tonight to hit the gossip blogs.
She’s been crying for over an hour. I’m rubbing her back in what I hope is a soothing way. I don’t tell her it will be okay or it will get better, and I certainly don’t tell her to forget this douchebag, because I know she won’t. She’ll remember every detail of tonight until she misremembers, but she won’t forget. Not now, not ever. All I can do is keep holding her until Ryan joins us.
When I saw her tonight, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She thought Ryan asked me to take care of her, but the truth is, I wanted to take care of her. I didn’t want anybody to spend too much time with her, and I didn’t want her to get drunk. I only wanted her to enjoy herself a little, and I wanted to spend time with her. Well… mission half accomplished…
A light knock at the door announces Ryan’s arrival. “Jules, sweetheart, can I come in?”
Jules stiffens and shakes her head.
“Jules,” I say, “it’s Ryan.”
She sighs loudly.
“Jules. Are you okay?” Ryan asks.
“Give us a minute. Is everybody gone?” I ask.
“Yes, of course. Only Jo and I are here now.”
I bring back my attention back to Julie and whisper in her ear, “Look, you know Ryan will open that door if you want it or not. Let him come in and check on you, and then I’ll take you home?”
At this point, I’m not sure what I’m doing anymore. I might have a superhero complex, because the thought of taking Julie home makes my dick twitch. He’s delusional if he thinks I’ll let anything happen with her tonight, but it seems he can’t stop getting his hopes up.
Julie nods, and I stand, leaving her fragile and broken on the tile floor, to open the door. Ryan lunges into the bathroom, scoops her off the floor, and carries her away.
Seeing my surprised look, Joana shrugs and rubs her belly. “You just have to accept it. They’re platonic soul mates or some shit like that.”
Joana is beautiful and madly in love with Ryan. Nevertheless, I was surprised to hear they were expecting so quickly. But to each their own, what do I know about love and relationship?
“Jules, sweetheart, I’m so fucking sorry. You know he wasn’t invited, right? I don’t even know how he heard about the party or how he got here. I’ll have some words with whoever let him in. I mean, I would have never thrown a party if I thought something like that would happen. I was so proud of you, sweetheart, for coming out tonight and showing him you aren’t a brokenhearted mess.”
The scene in front of me is strange. Ryan is on his couch, Julie on his lap, her head in the crook of his neck. He’s slowly stroking her hair. Joana is standing to the side, waiting for her boyfriend to console his best friend, and I’m standing there like a moron, hands in my pocket, not knowing what to do. I’m good friends with Ryan, but I barely know Julie and Joana. I’m just a guest of a party gone bad with a half-hard dick for a girl who got humiliated by her ex.
“Do you want to stay the night, Jules?” Joana asks in a sympathetic voice.
Julie shakes her head.
“Want to go home?” Ryan asks. “Not sure it’s best for you to be alone tonight.”
Julie’s head tilts, and her eyes find mine. I try to understand what she wants until a small smile spreads on her lips. At that moment, I feel as though I’ve known her for years, decades, and centuries.
“I’ll take her home, man,” I say.
Julie nods and stands, still without a word. She walks toward the door as Ryan raises his eyebrow and sends me a death glare. I quickly shoot my hands up as a silent promise that nothing will happen, contrary to my dick’s hopes, and I follow Jules with a smile.
The car ride is the longest ever. I’m not sure what to say. I can’t make small talk after such a shit evening, and Julie doesn’t utter a word. She’s looking out the passenger window, still sobbing. I don’t even dare to turn on the radio, but I can’t help glancing her way. Her bare shoulders contrast with the leather seat of my car, and her red dress slides up her legs. If I could watch her instead of the road, I’m confident I could memorize every curve of her legs. Focusing back on the drive, I try to empty my mind of the only thoughts I can
formulate: Julie Legg is hot, and I want to fuck her.
Once we’re parked in front of her building, Julie doesn’t move and stays silent. Not sure if she’s asleep or not, I move closer to her and touch her shoulder. The feel of her smooth skin sends a wave of desire through my body. Jules turns her head and, with a wry smile, lets her teary eyes meet mine.
“Would you come up with me? “ Her voice is shaky, exposing hurt and vulnerability. I can’t leave her alone.
“Of course,” I answer right away.
After I exit the car, I jog around and open her door, trying to push away any dirty thoughts and hard desire. Once she opens her front door, she lets me in and guides me in the dark to her bedroom. She pushes me down to sit on her bed.
“Julie? What are you doing?”
She removes her dress and stands between my legs, wearing red lace panties and a matching strapless bra, letting me drift into my sexiest fantasy. I try to keep my hands to myself even though all I want is to bury my face in her breasts and my fingers in her underwear.
“Please fuck me into oblivion, I need to forget tonight,” Julie whispers while dragging her hands through my hair.
If I saw any desire in her eyes, even a tiny little speck, I would have fucked her senseless. Unfortunately, all I see is despair, and I won’t touch her even if it’s my last night on earth. “No, I can’t.”
I tried to let her down nicely but her eyes tear up again. She bites the tremor of her lips, embarrassed by my rejection. I take her hands and caress her wrists with my thumbs.
Leaning closer to her body, I tilt my head up to find those deep brown eyes. “Julie, you’re beautiful, but fucking me isn’t the answer. Paul is a dick, but you can’t bed the first guy you meet in order to forget him. It won’t work, and he’s not worth it. You’ll wake up tomorrow regretting what happened between us, and I don’t want you to regret anything when we sleep together, and I insist on the when. If you need a friend to hold you tonight, I’m that guy. If you need me to sleep on the couch so you can have someone in the apartment, I’m that guy. If you need to talk, I’m that guy. But I won’t be the guy you regret you had a one-night stand with.”
Julie leans in slowly and kisses my cheek, thanking me in a murmur. Then she sits next to me, removes her shoes, and crawls into bed, slightly tapping the spot next to her for me to lie down.
After removing shoes and clothes except for my boxer briefs, I slip under the covers and bring Jules to my chest. I let her fall asleep on me while I stroke her thick hair. She’s out in seconds.
After such an emotional night, I stay awake for hours, wondering where this strange and unexpected new relationship will lead. I know that if I want anything to happen between us, I have to be patient and understanding. Trying to calm my raging erection—this one being the hardest I’ve ever sported because of the sad girl in sexy red lingerie currently curled up next to me—I fall asleep, hoping my time has come to enter Julie’s life. Like I said, I have something for broken girls.
The next morning, I’m woken by a blasting ringtone, alone in a bed that is not mine. I get up and find my phone on the floor, inside my discarded jeans. I know seeing the name of my agent/publicist and best friend on the screen isn’t a good omen early in the morning.
“Hey, man.”
The screaming I get in response to my greeting is a little anticlimactic for a wake-up call. “Tell me you are not at Julie Legg’s!”
“Uh? Should I lie?”
“Fuck, Ian! Are there paparazzi outside?” Dex asks, as impatient as usual.
“I don’t know, I only woke up a few minutes ago.”
“How can you be so stupid? First, Paul goes screaming to the media that she’s fucking Ryan and you, then there are pictures of you guiding her to her apartment at night. And now you’re still there? You are going to be in the middle of this drama. You know it, she knows it, we all fucking know it.”
“Calm down, nothing happened.”
Dex goes quickly from zero to sixty. The fact that he’s now at least at sixty-seven means he’s furious with me, but I don’t care.
“Does it matter? Do they care about the truth? Let me read you some headlines:
‘Ian Porter the Real Reason for the Paul-Jules Breakup.’
‘Jules and Ian—She moves On Fast for a Brokenhearted Lady.’
‘Jules: Dumped or Cheater?’
‘Hollywood Threesome: Jules, Ryan, and Ian Go at It.’
“And the pictures! And his testimony! How can you not see the game that fucking dickhead was playing? Paul was fed up with the bad press. Now he’s the victim.”
Jules stands in the doorway of her bedroom, coffee in hand, smiling at me. She’s wearing sweatpants and a Hockey Canada T-shirt, reminding me that she isn’t American.
“Dex, listen, I have to go. I promise I’ll make it better if I can.”
“Keep it low.” He grunts before hanging up.
Jules approaches, setting the coffee mug on the night table while I dress at a speedy pace.
“So our people are pissed.” She shrugs. “And I’m sorry I dragged you into the Paul—Jules—Ryan drama. Welcome to the best side of my life,” she says sarcastically.
I’m bare-chested in front of her, and I can see her gaze roaming my body, but because I’m not an ass, I don’t say anything. I snatch my shirt from the floor and put it on. “No problem. You and I know nothing happened. I’m not in a committed relationship with anyone, so there’s no harm done for me. I’m more worried about you. Now, I should get going, and from what Dex said, it seems there’s a horde of paparazzi in front of your house. Any idea how I can get out of here?”
“Ryan called. I told him about last night and how you were more than a gentleman. He said he’ll be here in a few minutes, come in for a coffee, and you two can go out through the underground garage. He’ll drive you home. Someone will bring your car later. I can’t show my face today.” She looks tired which is understandable. Who wouldn’t, living such a life?
“Are you okay?”
She nods and smiles. “Thank you for last night. I would have regretted it this morning.”
With that, she disappears into the living room, leaving me wondering if I’ve blown my only chance to be with her.
I take a few minutes to check the gossip pages so I can see the extent of the damage caused by me having blue balls and being a knight in shining armor. It’s not good, but it doesn’t seem too terrible.
When I join Jules in the living room, silence creeps in on us, neither of us really sure what we should say or do. I wish I could have her in my arms again and hold her tight. I wish I could kiss the top of her head like Ryan does. I wish I could get lost in her scent and forget all the mess surrounding us, but it doesn’t feel like the right time to make my move.
She busies herself around her kitchen, and I can’t stop looking at her. Her ponytail shifts right and left, giving me a view of her lickable neck. Her hands cleaning dishes remind me of her fingers running through my hair last night. It felt incredible. As I mentally undress her, my eyes pause on her perfect ass. The desire of last night is still fueling me, and I can’t shake her words out of my head…
Fuck me into oblivion.
Keys in the door interrupt my thoughts, and Ryan comes in. I can see right away that he’s pissed, but I soon realize that he’s not pissed at me. His anger is directed at Julie.
Without greeting us or making any small talk of any sort, he cuts to the chase. “I’ll say it. Nothing of this sort would have happened if you had slept at our house last night. Fuck, you drive me crazy, Jules. You don’t listen and do whatever the fuck you want. Ian, I brought you clothes so if they see you coming out, it won’t be in the same clothes as in the pictures taken last night. Go get changed!” He literally throws the clothes at my face and dismisses me.
Ryan Marley can be a real prick, and we all know it.
“Thanks.” I roll my eyes at his back.
Fortunately, Ryan and I are more
or less built the same. Wearing his jeans and a Montreal Canadians T-shirt, I come back to the living room. The tension is palpable.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Nothing,” Jules and Ryan answer at the same time in the same exasperated tone.
“Okay then… Jules, are you going to be okay?” The situation is so awkward, I want to run home.
“Yes. Thanks again for last night.” She smiles.
I gulp. “No problem. Give me a shout if you need anything.”
“Will do,” she adds, looking at the floor, which tells me she won’t ever call me.
“Okay, kids, let’s go. I do have things to do today,” Ryan says, finishing my conversation with Julie and pushing me to the door.
I glance at her one last time.
She waves goodbye while mouthing, “Sorry.”
I wink, hoping to send the message that I forgive her and want her at the same time. Winks can be tricky. They’re flirtatious and creepy at the same time, and you can never be sure what the winker means and what the receiver of the wink understands.
After a few minutes of silence in the elevator taking us to the underground parking, Ryan looks at me with raised eyebrows. “So? She asked you to fuck her, and you said no?”
I can see he doesn’t entirely believe her. I’m sure this is what they were fighting about when I came back into the living room.
“Yup,” I answer, sighing and adjusting my junk.
“Was it hard?”
“Yup…” There’s really not much more to say.
“Is it still?”
“Yup…” I cringe, trying to decide if our bromance will survive my desire to fuck his best friend.
He laughs, slamming me on my shoulder. “Man, you are fucked. Let me drive you home.”
All I can do is nod.
3 Julie
I read once in Cosmo that there are five or seven steps to grieving a relationship.
After denial and a great amount of alcohol, I moved on to mania, where regret, euphoria, and guilt became my new best friends. We spent a lot of time together, eating ice cream. Which is how I asked an A-list Hollywood actor who happens to be good friends with my best friend to fuck me. That’s how I almost died of embarrassment. Unfortunately, ridicule doesn’t kill…
