The Platinum Rebound

by T V Hartwell

  She indicated that she planned to visit them at Christmas, but that it was kind of depressing being back there, emphasizing how different her life was now compared to theirs.

  Jake sat in stunned silence while his grandparents and parents offered words of praise and encouragement to her. She had the whole table in the palm of her hand, mesmerized by her seeming heroism and ascension from a hard knocks life to the pinnacle of a corporate law career—partnership at an elite, white glove law firm with few women partners. More accustomed to socializing this intimately with people by and large just like themselves, the Doyle family didn’t come in personal contact with that many people with a story like Julie’s. Nonetheless, they admired her determination to succeed and to make a better life for herself in the face of such adversity. It was very consistent with the Republican values of hard work, self-sufficiency, personal initiative, and responsibility to which they generally subscribed.

  The level of my respect and admiration for you has just increased exponentially with everything you’ve been able to accomplish in your life, Jake nearly said, but decided not to, feeling embarrassed that he hadn’t known more about her background before that moment. He thought that it would have looked too awkward to have acknowledged that in front of his family.

  After everyone had completed their dinner, the men wanted to catch the Thanksgiving Day lineup of NFL games on TV, so they all headed to the family room to watch the game that was on and enjoy the serving of Kahlúa coffee Imelda had prepared for them. As Jake escorted his grandmother from the dining room, arm in arm, she confided to him in hushed fashion, “I like Julie. I’m so happy to see you with someone again. She’s a nice girl. And she’s so smart and so . . . independent, so together. She could be good for you,” Marilyn said contemplatively. Jake just listened to her politely. Seeing that he’d achieved one of his primary objectives in bringing Julie to dinner as his guest—reassuring his grandmother that he still liked and dated women—he wasn’t about to burst her bubble and tell her that technically speaking, Julie wasn’t his girlfriend.

  Just as Jake began to follow his grandmother into the family room, Harry pulled him aside for a little brotherly powwow.

  “Still heading to Mammoth tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. We’re driving up there in the morning. You should’ve planned to come with.”

  “Nah, I promised Tatum to spend the rest of the weekend with her in San Diego.”

  “When are you guys leaving?”

  “Tomorrow. We’re staying here tonight.”

  “Sleeping in separate rooms, of course. I know Mom’s not letting her share your room.”

  “Duh. What about you and Julie?”

  “What about us?”

  “I mean, she’s pretty cool and all, but I’m a little surprised to see you hooking up with another chick so soon. I thought you said you were going to take your time and chillax and not rush into another relationship right away.”

  “It’s not what you think. Things are not as serious between us as they appear. Really, we’re just friends.”

  Harry scoffed. “Yeah, right. I know you’re hittin’ it, dude. You can’t fool me. I know you too well, and you’ve never been ‘just friends,’” he said gesturing quotation marks with his hands, “with any girls—”

  “Shishhh,” Jake said, putting his index finger to his mouth while grinning and becoming flush in the face.

  “And you’ve never brought any girls home that you weren’t dating. In fact, the only other girl I can recall you bringing around here is Amanda, so don’t bullshit me with this just friends business. Come on, man, what’s up?”

  Jake started chuckling, holding his fist to his mouth so not to draw attention to himself as he and Harry were standing just outside the family room within earshot of everyone. Although the television was on full-blast with their dad and grandfather talking vociferously, Jake walked Harry back into the dining room to ensure privacy.

  “Dude, to be honest, I started bangin’ her in the bathroom at the Jonathan Club a couple of weeks ago and haven’t been able to quit.”

  “What!” Harry exclaimed with a mix of shock and hilarity on his face.

  “Yeah, we were over there to hear one of our clients give a talk and the next thing you know, she pulls me into a bathroom and starts giving me head,” he said with mirth.

  “No fucking way. Oh my God.”

  “And she seriously knows how to blow, dude. I had her on my dick for like seven straight days, going across the street from the office to do it in a public restroom.”

  Harry, now completely beside himself. “You did what? Where?”

  “First we went back to the Jonathan Club, but then we started going over to the Bonaventure hotel to switch things up a bit to avoid being noticed.”

  “Nooo waay. Dude, you are scandalous.”

  “And she’s been really possessive and controlling ever since, making me promise not to fool around with any other girls in the office or else she’d stop putting out for me.”

  Harry let out a shriek. “Oh my,” he said, covering his mouth, laughing hysterically.

  “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the sex is hot, but I don’t think I could ever be in a serious relationship with her. I like working with her, but it would be too much . . .”

  “Well it’s too late, because everyone already thinks she’s your girlfriend in there,” he smirked. “She’s kind of even acting like it.”

  Jake snickered as he shook his head. “It probably was a mistake to invite her over here.”

  “Then why’d you do it?”

  “She was kind of giving me a hard time and making me feel guilty about only wanting her for sex and not really wanting to be friends or whatever.”

  “Well, that’s true,” Harry deadpanned with a straight face.

  Jake backhanded him across the chest. “Shut up, smartass,” he said, and then right at that moment, Jake felt his smart phone vibrate in his pocket, indicating that he’d just received a text message. When he pulled it out and entered his key code to unlock the phone, the message appeared on the screen. Jake fell dead silent; his face withdrawn.

  Even though we haven’t seen or spoken to one another in over a month, we never let a major holiday pass without wishing each other and our families well. So Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours, bro. I miss you. It’s time to bury the hatchet. Your brother for life, Kirby

  “What is it?” Harry asked.

  “Nothing,” Jake said, abruptly ending their conversation and walking back to the family room to join the others.

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “Thanks again for inviting me over to spend Thanksgiving with you,” Julie said as she and Jake stood on the street outside of his apartment building. “You have a very nice family. I especially loved talking to your grandmother. I think she has big plans for you.”

  Jake smiled knowingly.

  “I didn’t know you were that into politics.”

  “I’m not actually. I mean . . . I am, but not to the degree she probably led you to believe.”

  “Well, if you decide to run for office someday you’ll have a loyal and devoted campaign manager standing at the ready.”

  “If she finds out I voted for Obama, maybe not,” Jake said with a chuckle.

  Julie laughed along. “Yes, I got the impression that she’s firmly in the GOP camp.”

  “Yeah, it gets nauseating at times trying to appear neutral in a family full of rabid Republicans who had no problem with the possibility of Sarah Palin being a heartbeat away from the presidency.”

  “Well, you do a good job of masking your political identity and views. You voted for Obama too? Who knew?”

  “Oh, I’ve had a lot of practice when it comes to masking things. I’ve gotten pretty good at it,” Jake said.

  “Is that right?” she teased, unaware of the depth of meaning to the observation he was making about himself.

  “Well, I better get going. It’
s chilly out here . . . unless you plan on inviting me in.”

  Feeling distracted and not in the mood, “You can come in if you want,” Jake said disingenuously, putting his hands in his pockets and not making eye contact with her.

  Julie stared at him, observing his body language, which didn’t appear to be screaming for a sexual nightcap. “Could you be a little more enthusiastic?” she said sarcastically.

  “No, really, it’s up to you,” he said looking down and rubbing the back of his head with his right hand.

  “Okay. I’m going to go,” she said in a huff. “You’re acting weird.”

  “No, no. I’m sorry. I’m just feeling a little lethargic right now. I probably ate and drank too much. And then I’m leaving tomorrow morning to go skiing with my buddies for the weekend and I haven’t even packed anything yet.”

  “Okay, okay. Give me a hug,” she said as she outstretched her arms to him. He stepped to embrace her, holding her tightly, folding his arms across her back. He lingered, suddenly enjoying the feel of her body pressed to his, but not enough to change his mind about sending her home. When he released her, she lifted her hands to his face to hold it and gave him a quick peck on the lips and then another, softer one. “Have a fun time in Mammoth. I’ll see you next week.”

  “Okay,” he said grabbing onto one of her hands as she pulled away and then squeezing her fingers before letting go, as if to assure her that he’d be back for more. “Drive safe.”

  After he stood and watched her pull away in her car, he turned to enter his apartment building, pulling his phone out from his pocket to look again at Kirby’s text message. He hadn’t yet responded and felt conflicted about whether to do so. A part of him wanted to be completely rid of Kirby. When he left the bungalow they’d shared and moved into his own place, he did so with the intention of cutting off all ties with his near lifelong friend. He even made a point to let their mutual friends know that he and Kirby had had a major falling out—without going into any detail other than to say that it was deeply personal—and that if they planned to do any group outings together that he’d rather not join them if Kirby was to be included. As far as Jake was concerned, his friendship with Kirby was over. Kirby had betrayed him and had irrevocably broken their bond of fidelity and the code of silence regarding the dual nature of their relationship they’d long committed themselves to.

  On the other hand, although feeling angry and disappointed with Kirby, Jake couldn’t completely divorce himself from him emotionally. Not yet. Deep down he still felt for Kirby even though outwardly he did everything he could to suppress any curiosity or desire to discuss him with anyone or to know anything about him—where he was, what he was doing, or who he was with.

  When Jake entered his apartment he sat the phone on the kitchen counter, and then he stood there as if transfixed and leaned over it with arms outstretched and each hand gripping the counter’s edge to support his weight and balance. Indeed, he and Kirby had always sent messages to one another on Thanksgiving and Christmas as well as on New Year’s if they weren’t celebrating it together somewhere. Feeling initially sentimental, he wanted to message him back, but then, “Why should I?” he questioned aloud. “You fucking lied to me, dude,” he said bitterly, pulling himself away from the counter to open the refrigerator and then take out the milk, downing a big gulp of it straight from the jug. He wiped his mouth as he put the milk back into the refrigerator and then grabbed the phone to take it with him into the bedroom.

  After stripping down to only his underwear, Jake walked into the bathroom to wash his face with Kirby still at the forefront of his mind. First, he brushed his teeth after which he splashed water on his face, then squeezed some cleanser in the palm of his hand to massage into his skin. After he rinsed and dried his face, he stared into the mirror at his complexion, turning his face from side to side to get a good look at his skin. “Damn, you’re hot,” he said, feeling satisfied with his appearance as he touched and rubbed his jawline. A small amount of stubble was beginning to form since his last shave the morning before, but he decided to leave it that way for the weekend, intending it to grow into a scraggly, rugged look by the time he hit the slopes with his boys.

  Jake picked up his phone from the nightstand after he walked back into his bedroom. He sat down on the edge of the bed to respond to some other texts he’d received, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the message from Kirby nor stop himself from thinking about him. He switched over to his phone’s photo gallery and began scrolling through pictures of them together, all of which he still had. Although he’d been tempted to delete them all, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. There were so many. Pictures of them from their recent trip to Hawaii, in Vegas during his bachelor party, in Palm Springs for the Coachella Music Festival, and many, many more from scenes and times together, alone and with other friends. As he continued to swipe through, Jake landed on a photo that he’d forgotten about. It stopped him in his tracks as he stared at it, hard, recalling to his memory the scene. It was taken shortly after Jake had moved in with Kirby following his graduation from Stanford Law School. Although Jake had already proposed to Amanda and intended to marry her, he and Kirby were nevertheless giddy about being together again, living in the same city and under the same roof for the first time as housemates. They could barely keep their hands off each other, and slept in the same bed every night for a straight week until Jake finally told Kirby that they had to cut it out. “Dude, you know I love you and all, but I’m engaged. I can’t keep sleeping with you like this.”

  On one of those mornings after they’d shared Jake’s bed, they laid there together naked, side by side. Caught up in the moment, Jake reached for his smart phone and decided to snap a picture of them from the chest up. There they were, with their heads on their pillows, leaning in to each other and touching, Jake smiling and Kirby looking half-awake, but sexy as hell pouting his beautiful, full lips for the camera just in time for the shot. The photo captured the essence of their relationship: best friends, playmates, brothers, united, unbreakable, and sealed in a bond of love and lust and secrecy.

  “What the fuck happened to you,” Jake said as he looked at the picture, feeling as though Kirby had become someone that he no longer knew or could ever trust again.

  “I needed you,” Jake said as he sat the phone down on the nightstand and lay back on the bed, resting his arms behind his head. He then closed his eyes and began to think of Kirby, of his masculinity and physical beauty, of the two of them together, kissing, making love, having sex. Jake reached down with his left hand under his briefs to stroke his rising erection. Aroused by his imagination and by the feel of his own sensual touch, Jake went to pull off his briefs completely so that he could stroke himself more freely and rapidly. He lifted his feet to the bed, and with his knees pointed out and legs spread wide apart, he began pumping his pelvis forward as he stroked. He used his other hand to rub his abdomen and to squeeze his pecs as he allowed himself to succumb to the erotic fantasy unfolding in his thoughts.

  He then turned himself over to his stomach to lie flat on the bed. Spreading his legs slightly apart, arms stretched out above his shoulders, and palms flat against his sheets, he began to hump the mattress slowly, fantasizing that Kirby was beneath him. “I needed you. I loved you,” he said with a sorrowful yearning in his voice. “How could you betray me and lie to me, Kirby?” he demanded as he continued to hump, imagining a contrite Kirby holding him in his arms and rubbing his backside as he pressed his lean, hard, muscular flesh to his male love’s.

  Jake raised himself up on his knees and began to stroke his erection again while rubbing his chest and squeezing his left nipple. Imagining his groin directly over Kirby’s face. “Yeah, that’s it, lick my balls, bitch. You still want this, don’t you?” he said as he continued to stroke, and eventually moved his other hand from his chest to his ass, spreading his cheeks apart to finger his hole. “Eat my ass . . . that’s it . . . fuck yeah. Beg for it, dude,” he said
with a punishing, but sensuous tone, playing out the scene in his imagination in vivid detail.

  Near the brink, Jake flipped himself to lay back flat on the bed to finish himself off. He began to stroke himself more rapidly—his legs stretched out and spread slightly apart before him, his long, neat toes pointed out, his abs contracting. As he got closer to climax, his chest rose and tightened. Pretending Kirby was there beside him, “Fuck yeah, bro. Let’s come together,” he said, grimacing in aching pleasure at the rising volcano inside of him, making its way to the opening at the top. “Oh fuck . . .” he exclaimed one last time in a breathy, gasping voice, and then he came, hard, his load shooting out with such force and velocity that it landed on his chest.

  After Jake had hopped up to clean himself off, he allowed his homoerotic fantasy to recede from his mind as quickly as it had appeared. Determined to hold firm to his separation from Kirby and to keep him out of his life for good, Jake turned off the lights and crawled back into bed. Curling under the sheets with his phone in hand, he looked at Kirby’s message one last time. Then he hit delete.

  * * *

  Chapter Thirty

  With the premiere of Adam’s new film on the first Friday in December, Amanda saw it as an opportunity to hit the reset button on her life. To reintroduce herself to the world with a new look, a new attitude, a new way of being. Goodbye to the naïve, broken, depressed girl mourning the loss of a cheating fiancé and a miscarried child. She felt like a survivor after what she’d been through which awakened her to an inner strength she didn’t know she had. Plus, the new man in her life made her feel confident, powerful, and desired. Adam made her feel like a woman.