by Gabrielle G.
As for Ian, I might fix things with him. At least I’ll be cordial. Even if the rest of his texts were apologies, asking where I was and worried that something had happened to me, he did call me selfish, and he disappeared on me first. We need to clear the air and put it all on the table, but it will have to wait.
When I arrive at Ryan’s, I find the house plunged in darkness. The gate was cracked open and the front door unlocked. No security was in place, which isn’t how things usually are in the Marleys’ house. Worries fill me, so I let myself in and drop the beer I brought on the kitchen counter. The house smells of men’s stink, and I wonder where Joana is and why a mix of alcohol, sweat, and fart attacks my nostrils. It’s so bad that I need to cover my nose.
I assume Ryan is in his entertainment/living room playing HALO or some shitty game, but I’m not prepared to see the desolate picture before me. My best friend and my whatever Ian is to me are playing video games, and they clearly haven’t shaved nor showered for a few days. They look like Edward Scissorhands (how could he shower?) and Pepe Le Pew have been hanging out in a cave, playing video games.
“Take that, fucker! No! Ian, fuck no!”
“Jeez, Ryan, what the fuck, man! We’re on the same team!”
“Are we? What the…?” Ryan pauses the game and looks at Ian, clearly wondering why his partner isn’t moving anymore.
Ian’s eyes are on me, frozen as if he’s seen a ghost. I smile, but his lips stay tight and he shrugs, breaking eye contact.
“Jules!” Ryan stands and says dryly, “What a nice surprise! What are you doing here?”
He doesn’t hug me though, and he looks displeased to see me. My eyes stay on Ian. He looks devilishly handsome in ripped black jeans and a black T-shirt, but he seems tired. I turn toward Ryan. He looks even worse.
“Hi, guys! I came here as soon as I landed. I’m sorry, Ry. I… well, things happened.” I focus again on Ian. “I needed a little time to think. I needed space.”
If looks could break people into thousands of pieces and crunch them, Ryan’s gaze would be a great weapon right now.
“Do you hear that, man? She needed space, once again, when I needed her.” Ryan laughs.
Ian looks at me as if I have three heads, five breasts, and two pussies. He gets up, looking confused. “Fuck, I need to go.”
Without acknowledging me, Ian passes me and walks toward the door.
“No fucking way, bro! You’re staying, or I kick her out.”
Ryan’s words are like shards into my heart. Since when am I the one kicked out of Ryan’s life? Given a choice, he’s always chosen me. Seeing as how they seem to be soaked in alcohol, I try to brush it off and bring some humor into the situation.
“You played all day, guys? I mean, I know it happens to nerds who have nothing else to do with their pathetic lives, but you’re both renowned actors pushing forty! Don’t you have anything to do other than play HALO ?” I say with my most shocked voice. “Did you eat anything? Where are my snacks? At least I brought beer! This is too cutely pathetic. I don’t think I can be friends with you anymore, Ry. I’m sorry.”
His gaze is dark, almost hateful. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!” He turns to Ian. “Man, please stay. If someone has to leave, it’s not the one who picked up the pieces the last three days.”
Ryan has never been so distant with me. I don’t know where this is coming from, but he wants to punish me, and I don’t know what I can do to make it better.
I shrug. “Okay, I’ll bite. What the fuck is happening? Why did Joana tell me she’s sorry?”
Ryan storms out, and I’m left facing Ian for an answer. It’s taking everything in me not to run into his arms and kiss him. I never thought seeing him would make me want him so much. I want to touch him. I want to feel his fingers on my skin. I want to feel his tongue in my mouth and his cock inside me. Resisting his pull was easy when I was away, but so close, even with his repulsive smell, he’s all I want. But since he looks at me the way I look at a fried octopus—with no interest and slight disgust—I don’t think he feels the same.
We stare at each other. I can feel him looking for an answer to my disappearance in my eyes, but I’m waiting for a response about what happened to Ryan. I can’t make Ian my priority.
I shrug, trying to diffuse the tension.
“You seriously don’t know what’s happening?” he finally says. “You needed space for whatever fucking reason and haven’t checked in with anybody? You worried the shit out of us, and you reappear with no fucking good reason, and you don’t know about Ryan and Joana?”
Confusion is my middle name. Joana and Ryan? “What? Did something happen to the baby?”
He laughs. One of those evil laughs the best villain can do. “Fuck, Jules. I thought you were different. I thought maybe we could have a chance. I thought… I thought that if I gave you time and let you heal, we could be something. I thought I could love you, but this disappearing act the moment Ryan needs you the most? The moment I need you the most to take care of him? I can’t even think how to take it because all I’m thinking about is how it’s going to hurt you when you understand what’s going on. Because you are all I’m thinking about. Because your well-being is what I want the most. I know I don’t make much sense, I’ve been drunk for days, but that man there”—he points toward where Ryan disappeared—“needed his best friend. You fucking abandoned him, and you know better than anyone Ryan doesn’t do well with abandonment. So I don’t know how to tell you what happened, but you need to take care of him because he’s touching rock bottom. He’s depressed and alone and sad.”
By the time Ian has finished his speech, I’m crying. Since Joana told me she was sorry and I’ve seen how Ryan looks, I’m pretty sure she left him, and I wasn’t there for him like he was for me during our friendship. He’s been my light at the end of the tunnel so many times, and I’ve only been his darkness. I let him down because of a stupid headline.
When I think of that, anger settles in. All of this is Ian’s fault. If he hadn’t dodged my calls, if he weren’t having a sexy time with another woman, I wouldn’t have disappeared!
“You know what, Ian? All of this is your fault! You’re the one who made me run away. Why the fuck didn’t you pick up your phone? Were your hands too busy groping the tits of that woman in the picture? So thank you for taking care of my best friend when I was, once again, wondering if the guy I liked was cheating on me. Fuck you!”
He shakes his head and opens his mouth to answer. I raise my hand to stop him because I don’t want to hear it, and I go searching for Ryan.
I find Ry in what should have been the nursery. The room, which was ready a few weeks ago, is now empty. Only the wall colors hint what would have been its use. Ryan is sitting on the floor, his elbows on his knees and his head drooping.
I sit next to him and gently touch his arm. “What’s going on, Ry? Talk to me. I’m sorry I wasn’t here, but I am now.”
He stays silent but puts his head on my shoulder.
I run my fingers in his hair and massage his skull like I know his father did when he was younger. “Talk to me, Ry.”
Ryan stays silent, but I hear him sob. In a few seconds, it becomes a full-on meltdown, and my forearm gets wet from his tears. I soothe him before changing position and embracing him. He cries in my arms for a long time.
“Did she break up with you?”
He shakes his head, looking so woebegone that I can’t hold the tears I was trying to swallow. “I did.”
“Why, Ry? You’re going to be a dad,” I say quietly.
His crying intensifies, and he holds me tighter. “I’m sorry, Jules. So sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? It makes no sense! What happened?”
“The baby isn’t mine. She lied to me.”
I hold my breath, shocked. “What do you mean the baby isn’t yours? She cheated on you?” I swallow hard, waiting until he nods. “With whom?”
He avoids my gaze
and sobs more.
“Ry? Who is the father of Joana’s son?”
Seeing how guilty he looks, how he doesn’t want to tell me, I already have my answer. But I need him to tell me. I know pushing him isn’t fair. It’s not what he needs, but it’s what I need, and Ryan always puts my needs before his. As I wait for him to confirm the nightmare we’re living in, I hear footsteps approaching.
Ian stands in the door, looking at us. “I’m going now, Ryan. If you need anything call me. Julie, I guess you’re staying?”
I nod.
“Okay, I’ll see you around.”
My heart grows heavy as Ian walks away, but I can’t run after him. Not when Ryan needs me so much. I cling to my best friend and kiss the top of his head.
I ask one more time, “Who’s the father, Ry? Who did she cheat on you with? I need you to say it to make it real.”
Holding me tight and crying on my neck, my best friend confirms what my brain already deduced. “Paul.”
And my heart breaks all over again, but not for me this time. I’m done crying for that fucker. I sob while holding Ryan and trying to be his light because all the tears I’m shedding are now for my best friend and the life he thought he had.
12 Julie
I need my bed, and I need it now!
“Oh my God! Do that again. You are a real sex god!”
Giggles. Grunt.
“Oh please, deeper! Yes! Oh yes!”
Moans. Grunt.
“Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Yes! Yes! Yes! Ryan!”
Grunt. Grunt. Grunt. Door. Footsteps. Door. Toilet flush. Running water.
One would think Ryan’s mansion would be soundproof. One would think I wouldn’t have to hear grunts and moans coming from his bedroom, or he would be a little shyer about fucking anybody with a pulse while I’m trying to sleep in the farthest away guest room.
Not. At. All.
My best friend is becoming the biggest playboy Hollywood has ever seen. He’s still sweet and lovely to me—as long as I’m not mentioning the herd of women walking through his bedroom door—but otherwise, I barely recognize the guy I love so much. Unfortunately for both of us, I’m being sympathetic and letting him do as he pleases, and he’s pleasing a lot of women these days. I’ve tried to go home, but every time, the broken soul I see in his eyes makes me stay put.
The news of his breakup hit the newsstands and has not only created the news circus we knew would exist but a group of fans/stalkers ready to mend his heart and empty his balls.
And then Joana’s son was born. And then, the news broke that Paul was the father. And then Paul rushed to Jo’s side.
Leaving Ryan alone is impossible. So I stay in his guest room where I can hear him fucking Hollywood’s non-finest and not getting any myself.
I roll onto my belly and hide my head under the pillow.
Footsteps. Hushed voices. Door opening then closing. Footsteps. Door opening. My bed sinking.
“Go away, Ry!” I say. “I want to sleep.”
“Let’s go out, sweetheart!”
I remove my head from below the pillow and squint at him. “No! We already went out. You found the pussy. You fucked the pussy. You let the pussy go. If you wanted more, why didn’t you keep the pussy for the night?”
“She talked too much.” He shrugs.
“Tell me about it!” I answer in a deadpan.
He smiles at me. But his smiles never reach his eyes anymore. “So let’s go out.”
“We’re putting your house on the market tomorrow morning. Can we stay in and sleep? We’ll go out tomorrow and you can take home as many pussies as you want. Even two or three at once. Deal?” Ryan can’t stay here. He’s done with Jo, done with the mansion, done with the nursery upstairs. He wants a change of air, house, life, and I support him one hundred percent.
“Only if I can sleep with you…” He grins.
“Sleep with me?” Not that the idea hasn’t crossed my mind now that we’re both single. Because I am single again. The burning-hot fling Ian and I had is now dried coal. All I do is try not to touch myself while hearing my best friend pleasuring other women. And it’s hard. So hard I fail a lot.
“You know what I mean,” he says with the expression of a little boy wanting a cookie. Not that he wants mine. “Can I sleep in your bed? Don’t make me beg. I don’t want to sleep alone.”
“Did you remove the pussy smell?”
He nods, so I open the covers and let him slip in before realizing he has only a pair of boxer shorts on. It’s not the first time we’ve slept in the same bed, but he usually wears sweatpants. Thank God I’m decent at least. His presence swallows me, and as he puts his head on my chest and my hand reaches for his hair to soothe him like I usually do, he sobs. I know he’s falling asleep heartbroken once again, wanting to show the world he’s over it but imagining he’s rocking his son to sleep or holding Joana tight.
The next morning, I wake up to voices in the kitchen. I know one of those voices is Ryan’s, but the other one is unknown. Girly but unknown. Knowing how Ryan operates these days, I’m in no hurry to join the party. I hope that if he’s balls deep into someone in the kitchen, he’ll clean the counter afterward. Unfortunately, I can’t hide long since the real estate agent is supposed to be here in fifteen minutes. I grab my phone and give Ry a heads-up.
You have 15 minutes to finish whoever you are doing in the kitchen and clean up before I come out there.
The universe isn’t kind to me. Never freaking kind. It takes me a shower, getting dressed, and walking in on Ryan licking the nipples of a blonde I’ve never seen before to realize the text I sent minutes ago never made it to Ryan’s phone. Instead, Ian might be wondering what I’m talking about. Or not, as he didn’t answer. Stupid freaking mind of mine not putting him away. I can blame it on being tired, I can blame it on my fat thumbs, but truth is, I haven’t put Ian in the magician’s box that would make him disappear from my mind.
My stomach sinks at the idea that Ian is ignoring me. I know we parted with bad words, but he did say he would see me around. We haven’t talked since I came back from Montreal though. He’s still doing the movie, but we communicate through our agents. My error is the first contact we’ve had since that night. I don’t want him to think I deliberately error-texted him to start a conversation, so now what should I do? Text him again and say that wasn’t meant for him? Stay silent and wait for him to say anything? I hate being in the grey zone. I want to know where I stand. I want him to say at least “wrong number.” Say something! Anything!
Ryan gets his flavor of the morning to put her shirt back on. I roll my eyes at his promise to call her for a rain check, as I know he certainly won’t. Why would he work on something that comes to him for free?
“Where did she come from? It is nine in the morning!”
“Funny story,” he says while handing me a chai latte. “I was running with Ian this morning, then we went for coffee at his sister’s coffee shop and that”—he points at the door—“was the barista!” He chuckles.
“Seriously? You took the barista home?”
“Yeah…” He shrugs. “And I brought you tea!”
“Thanks, I guess. How is—”
Ryan cuts me off right away. “I’m not answering that! No fucking way.”
I’m about to protest and make a lame excuse that I was going to ask how Virginia was when the doorbell rings and Ryan exits the room. He comes back followed by a bombshell. Picture Jennifer Lopez as a James Bond girl and you can imagine how much sex appeal emanates from this woman. Ryan’s tongue is already out, and she’s licking her lips suggestively. I might need all the help I can to stop them from going at it in every closet in the house. As soon as she sees me, James Bond girl’s eyes narrow before trying to become kinder and accompany the professional smile that tells me I should trust her and become one of her future clients.
She comes my way and offers her hand for me to shake. “Julie Legg! Such a pleasure to meet you!”
; “Pleasure is all mine. Glad you can help us sell the house,” I answer with the fakest smile of all.
“Us?” she asks, turning toward Ryan.
But Ryan isn’t following our greeting because he’s checking her ass. I might be wrong, but I believe I can see drool in the corner of his mouth.
“Well, I’m helping Ryan. Don’t worry, he’s as free as the wind.”
She blushes, and Ryan shoots me a glare.
“So let me tell you how it’s going to be,” I say. “We need to sell this house, like, yesterday. So the faster you sell it, the faster you two can enjoy each other. I won’t accept any shenanigans before the house is sold.”
“Jules,” Ryan says through his teeth, “mind your own business.”
“You see, Ryan, it is my business, because you won’t let me go home until your house is sold and I need to go home. I need to be at my place. As much as I love you, I prefer my own space. So you can do whatever you want once the house is sold!”
We give the agent the house tour, and James Bond girl is completely professional. Ryan, on the other hand, takes every occasion to brush his body against hers, flirts, and makes innuendos. If she doesn’t buy the house herself just to be able to fuck him, I won’t know where he went wrong. When they finally end the most extended foreplay I think Ryan has had since his binge-fucking started, Ry and the agent leave together to visit some other place for him to buy. He doesn’t ask me to come with them, as I was supposed to, and that’s when I know I need to find a new agent to sell this house.
So I’m a little surprised that evening when I see James Bond girl approaching us at the VIP section of the bar that is now our evening headquarters. With a massive smile, she slams two contracts in front of us and hands a pen to Ryan, who looks proud and turned on.
