Always & Only (Angels and Sunshine Book 1)

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Always & Only (Angels and Sunshine Book 1) Page 10

by Gabrielle G.


  “Did you actually not fuck her today?” I whisper for him only to hear.

  “I might have let her blow me in a bathroom and tell her we can continue what we started once she sells the house and gets me the price I wanted on the other one I saw,” he answers before signing both contracts.

  She tucks the papers in her purse and takes Ryan’s hand before exiting the bar. I’m about to go home when I hear my name shouted. Looking for the source of the voice calling me, I see Virginia waving at me from a table and decide to go say hi. I’ll do some damage control for Ryan after the barista hookup this morning.

  “Hi, Virginia.” I hug her quickly.

  “Hey, Jules. Want to sit?”

  I glance around to be sure Ian isn’t lurking in a corner before accepting her invitation.

  “Are you here alone?” she asks me while her eyes roam the room.

  “Well, I wasn’t until I was. Ryan just left.”

  “Ah! Ryan!” She seems pissed.

  I see an opening to apologize on his behalf. “I’m sorry about him stealing away your barista today. He’s going through a rough patch and…”

  Her face expression goes from confused to angry. “What do you mean? Ian told me Amber got sick today and that’s why he was at the coffee shop when I arrived.”

  Oh shit. “Well yes, that’s what I meant. Ryan brought her home for her to feel better.” Not such a stretch of reality, after all.

  “You’re such a bad liar. I’m sorry to say it, but your best friend is becoming a pig, and it’s sad to see how you defend him.”

  I don’t know why she’s pissed, but she clearly is.

  “I guess I’ll have to tell Ian to keep him away from my staff from now on.”

  I laugh. “I tried that today, and he went home with the staff. Mind you, he sold his mansion and bought another one in record time.”

  Virginia’s face goes from angry to livid.

  Not sure if it is about Ryan fucking the staff or him selling his house and because I don’t know Ian’s sister well enough to continue discussing my best friend’s sex life, I prefer to change subjects altogether. “What’s new with you?”

  We aren’t friends, but she did ask me over to sit with her. It’s a little awkward, but I want to be polite and gracious. Also, being with her makes me feel close to Ian. Not that I miss him, or not much at least. But I would love her to tell him she ran into me and we had a nice chat.

  “Nothing. My life is always the same.”

  Silence falls between us, and I feel more and more uncomfortable by the minute.

  Then she smirks as if me being uncomfortable is what she wanted. “What’s going on between Ian and you?”

  I swallow hard and sigh. But two can play this game, so I decide to try to make her uncomfortable. “Haven’t you heard? I’m a selfish bitch, but we’re friends, so I’m trying to be professional, as I kind of work with him, while ignoring anything else that could have happened between us. He’s ignoring me as well, so all is perfect in my world!”

  It’s never smart to say these things in public, especially to the sister of your ex-fuck. It’s an even worse idea when the sister has set you up, timing her question perfectly so said ex-fuck is standing behind you, which I realize when I hear a man clearing his throat. I analyze my two options: be embarrassed by what I said or own it. Virginia doesn’t seem embarrassed by the trap she engineered, so why should I be with my answer?

  I stand, say goodbye to Virginia, and leave without even glancing at Ian. Outside the bar, I order an Uber since Ryan and I came together and he left without me. As much as I hate myself for thinking so, I would give anything right now for Ian to follow me out and drive me home. But I know he won’t. Because we’re idiots who are pissed at each other for a missed opportunity to do things right. Because as much as I want him, I don’t trust him after seeing the pictures of him and that journalist. I don’t want to be in a relationship with someone I can’t trust a hundred percent. Besides, I have no time these days for any man other than Ryan. Between my projects, the movie, and my newly sex-addicted best friend, I’m overbooked and don’t want my brain to overheat on stupid drama. Not that it doesn’t anyway.

  I’m almost at my place in my Uber when I receive a text from Ryan saying he’s done with the agent and I can come home, meaning his place. I decide to let him sleep alone tonight, as he had no problem ditching me, once again, for fresh and shiny pussy.

  When the car pulls up in my driveway, I see Ian standing against the door of his car. Wearing blue jeans and a white shirt that falls perfectly on his shoulders, he’s the perfect image of American sexiness. His sleeves are rolled up, and his forearms are crossed under his pecs. My brain fills with images of his naked body, my mouth on him, and my hands on his thighs. He looks tired and sad.

  Emotionally, I can’t face him, so I change my mind the same way I change a tampon: fast, without overthinking it, but still feeling pretty gross by doing so. I give the driver Ryan’s address and tell him to turn around in my driveway. But the universe really doesn’t like me, and as the car backs out, Ian’s gaze locks on mine. I refuse to feel sorry for avoiding him, but I still feel crushed by all that could have happened and certainly won’t. I turn in the car to look in his direction until I can’t see anything anymore.

  My phone chimes, and my heart races when I see Ian’s name on the screen.

  I am sorry.

  That’s all it says, and I’m not sure what he’s apologizing for. For saying we were friends when we were more? For getting caught with someone else? For ripping me one when I saw him again? For not reaching out? For ignoring my mishap today? For his sister’s behavior? He has a lot to be sorry for, and I don’t have a clue if I want to accept his apology.

  As I arrive at Ryan’s house and climb into my bed, where he’s already asleep, I’m even more confused by Ian’s words. My heart feels heavy, and my head is pounding with questions I have no answers to. Tears fill my eyes and I weep silently, trying not to wake Ryan.

  Because my best friend has a sixth sense when it comes to me, he spoons me, mumbling about how happy he is I’m home and whatever I’m crying about is certainly not worth it. He holds me tightly and kisses the back of my head before falling back asleep. It’s only once my tears are dry and I’m about to fall asleep, too tired to do anything about it, that I detect that we’re both in our underwear. Our skin is touching, and his cock is resting close to my core. Not ready to reposition our bodies or cover mine, I note the new boundaries that have been crossed tonight before falling asleep in my best friend’s arms.

  13 Ian

  I should have run after Julie, but I was too busy giving Virginia crap for the stunt she pulled. Admittedly, Jules didn’t have to say what she said, but my sister still shouldn’t have set her up. By the time I was done demanding explanations, Jules was gone, so I drove like a madman to her place, hoping she was staying there and not at Ryan’s. Since I saw him with a beautiful woman on his way out, I was pretty sure she would go home. Seeing her sitting in a car pulling away from me made me feel as though the earth was pulling out from under me.

  I hate the beach because the feeling of the sand crumbling under my toes is unsettling. It gets me every time. Throw me in the deep ocean, and I have no problem. Sit me on dry sand, and I love it. But I can’t think of the wet part of the beach and the waves without my whole body feeling eerie.

  That’s exactly how I feel while driving back to Virginia’s to drop her off. Because to make matters worse, my twin is with me in the car.

  “That was cold. She didn’t even get out of the car.” She shakes her head as if she can’t believe it.

  I can, because I’m the biggest idiot on the planet and I was a cold, heartbroken asshole to her. Not that I thought so until a few hours ago. Virginia made me see the light.

  “Look, I know what I did was, let’s say, uncool.”

  I snort at her words.

  “But at least now you know why she isn’t reaching o
ut. Did you seriously tell her she was a selfish bitch?” She cringes while repeating my supposed words.

  Here’s the thing—I was drunk. Not like a little drunk, but three days of straight drinking drunk, and I don’t really remember what I told Julie. But I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t use the word bitch to describe her.

  “I don’t think so. Not in those words.” I’m trying hard to replay the day she came into Ryan’s house. I remember implying I loved her and being disappointed in her. I remember smelling myself and wanting to throw up because my stench was revolting. I remember telling her the news would hurt her and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. But implying she was a selfish bitch? I don’t think I said that.

  “You need to apologize,” Virginia continues. “Clearly you hurt her feelings, and if you want any chance to repair the ‘whatever’ you two had, you need to grow balls and clear the air. Why haven’t you already tried that?”

  “Because Ryan needs her. He told me he’s feeling much better now that she’s taking care of him. Besides, I don’t think she has time for my groveling or that she even wants it. Point proven tonight.”

  “Ah, Ryan again! What do you think is going to happen once Ryan realizes the woman he spends all his time with is available? This guy is screwing away his feelings, and he will screw his best friend.”

  “He won’t. It is not like that between them.”

  But Virginia is feeding my jealousy monster. Julie did have fantasies about Ryan, and she had no problem sharing them with him.

  “You are so naïve, little bro.”

  As we pull up at her house, we’re welcomed by blasting music and a group of eighteen-year-olds smoking joints on her front lawn.

  “I’m going to kill the fucker!” she says, blasting out of the car.

  Virginia only swears when she’s really pissed. She swears a lot around my nephew, Asher, and his father, Clay. They are already screaming at each other when I come closer to support Virge. Asher, being the ass that he is, is telling her that if it’s his house why can’t he do whatever he wants in it. Saying that he throws parties like this one whenever he wants at Clay’s. Of course he does. Clay is never home. The douche travels all the time and spends his trust fund doing absolutely fuck all. We all grew up together, but I was never a fan of Dex’s brother. For every minute I spent with Dex, Virginia was with Clay. They had a crush in elementary school, then became high school sweethearts until both sets of parents tried to put distance between them. The parents told them they might be too young to move in together and it would be good for them to go to different colleges, become their own person. They seemed to agree but once I told our parents about Virginia’s drug use, they planned a great scheme and ran away after graduation. Clay’s parents refused to cut him off saying they will come back.

  Since Asher will really only listen to Dex, I call him right away. “Hey, man, your nephew is at it again.”

  “Pass him to me!” he growls.

  I make my way to Asher and Virginia and give him the phone. Asher glares at me when he sees Dex’s name on the screen. He hates when I rat him out, and I do it every time.

  “Of course you called Dex! You can’t take care of anything like a man!”

  “Not interested, Asher. As long as you act like a dumbass with your mother and hate my guts, I won’t engage. You made it clear that I’m nothing to you. I could have called the cops, and I didn’t. Thank my love for your mother and uncle for that.”

  He takes my phone, and I can hear Dex shouting through it, but I can’t make out his words. My stupid behavior has put me on the other side of Dex’s wrath before, and it’s not fun. I almost feel bad for the asshole.

  “There,” Asher says, handing me back the phone. “I’m sorry, Mother. I’ll clean up and kick my friends out.”

  “You want to stay here tonight?” she asks, but it sounds more like a plea.

  He nods and looks at his shoes as if he’s ashamed of what he did tonight. I don’t know what Dex said, but what a change. I hope one day I can talk to the kid.

  “I’m gonna go, Virge. If there’s a problem, call Dex. You can call me if you need to talk though.”

  In my car, I see Julie still hasn’t answered my apology. I was hoping to open the conversation at least. I thought maybe the text she sent this morning was kind of a peace offering. I should have answered, but I was a little taken aback. If I understood, Ryan was fucking the barista in his kitchen while Julie was in the next room. I really don’t know how she puts up with him these days. Virginia and Dex would have tied me to my bed and lectured me until I admitted I should stop or at least slow down. I shouldn’t have put ropes and Julie in the same thought, because now I’m driving with a hard-on.

  My phone rings and my fancy dashboard tells me it’s Dex. That helps dramatically with the situation in my pants.

  “Did he apologize?” Dex asks about Asher without ceremony.

  “Yep. He seemed scared as shit. Don’t know what you told him, but it worked.”

  “Did he apologize to you?”

  I laugh at the idea. “You know the answer to that. He never will. The kid hates me for God knows what reason. I’m sure your brother spoke highly of me over the years. You’re certainly the favorite uncle.”

  “You know that’s not true.”

  Well, it is true actually. Dex was the only family member Asher knew for much of his life. The only one who was always there because nobody else knew Asher existed. He’s the superhero of Asher’s story. I’ve accepted that fact, but I would like Dex to own it.

  “Let’s not go there. We agreed to disagree on Asher a long time ago. Can you tell me how you and Ryan had a one-night stand? That would really help my mood after what Virginia did to Julie tonight and the Asher trouble.”

  “Want to come over?”

  “No, I want to crash in my bed.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Nope. What I want is to know how it happened. Please? You owe me at least a good story.”

  He laughs. “Shit, it’s nothing you haven’t seen me do before. It was maybe twenty years ago or so. We were at a party. Ryan was drunk. I was somewhat drunk. He told me he’d always wondered what it felt like to fuck a man. I proposed my services. End of story.”

  “Unbelievable. That’s all I am getting? That’s not what I call a good story, man. No details?”

  “I don’t think you want any.”

  I can only laugh. I certainly don’t want them, but I still find the situation incredible. First of all, finding another heterosexual man who admits he had a one-night stand with a guy like I once had is rare. And knowing the guy had it with your best friend is even more fucked up.

  “Speaking of Ryan, how he’s holding up?” Dex asks.

  “Well, how would you handle it?”

  “I would drink and fuck a lot.”

  “That’s exactly what he’s doing. We went for a run today and had coffee at Black Heart, and he took home the barista. I had to cover for her until Virge arrived. It seems he fucked her while Jules was in the house.”

  “How do you know?”

  “She sent me a text that I believe was meant for him, saying he had fifteen minutes to finish and clean up. I put two and two together.”

  “Did you talk to Julie?”

  And there it is. Every day, Dex has asked me if I’ve talked to her. Not because he’s really interested in my relationship but because of the movie and the repercussions that our failed relationship will have on it. I’ve invested a lot of time and money on it, and he’s freaking out.

  “I said I was sorry,”

  “Good! What did she say?”

  “Nothing. She didn’t answer my text.”

  “Oh my fucking God, Ian. I love dicks, and even I know you don’t apologize to a woman by text. Tell me you at least apologized for something specific? You didn’t just send a text saying you were sorry?”

  I don’t answer for the obvious reason.

  “Ian Porter
, you are such a moron! I want you to talk to her, send flowers, grovel, and be a real gentleman. Don’t make me call your mom.”

  In a way, my mother is the scariest person on Earth, especially if she hears I haven’t treated a woman perfectly. She’s ready to share my awful childhood stories on social media—with baby pictures to illustrate. She already did it once.

  “Don’t play the mom card! I’ll try my best. At home now, got to go. Good night!”

  Once in the safety of my house, I let my imagination go back to Julie and ropes. I wish I could share this part of me with her. The sex we had was great, but I would love to see her wrists tied to her ankles, at my mercy for me to pleasure her until her pussy hurts. I love how ropes caress a woman’s body, especially in the more sensitive areas. I don’t want to overpower my partners but give them the security they need to totally abandon their desires to someone else. I never come when I have someone tied up, but I make them come. A lot. It’s about their pleasure, not mine.

  I’ve tied up a lot of women in clubs, but I’ve only done it once with someone I had an emotional connection with. It was my first time using ropes, and I’ve never come as hard as I did once I gave her back control. Unfortunately, my girlfriend at the time didn’t appreciate it, so we never did it again. I can only imagine what Julie would do. Would she be able to let herself go completely? Would she try not to come on my tongue or fingers? Would she resist me? Would I have to use toys?

  Stroking my dick, I imagine wrapping Julie in ropes. I need to go faster. Every time my hand touches my tip, my body jolts. When I’ve finally tied the last knot in the last imaginary rope around her legs and my tongue is about to reach for her compliant body, I can feel myself pulsing. The pulse becomes a throb, and I can’t stop the spurts coming out of me. Ecstasy envelops me, and I laugh at the fact that I came imagining using ropes on Julie, not even doing anything to her body.

  My craving for her scent and her touch spurs me into action. After putting my underwear back on and washing my hands, I try to call her, but she doesn’t answer. I’m not surprised, since it’s two o’clock in the morning. I want to send her a text saying I want to talk. But to be sure she understands I know I fucked up, I take a piece of paper and write, “I’m Sorry, sunshine” on it. I hold it in front of my chest before snapping a picture. The next picture says, “Please forgive me,” and the next one, “Can we talk?” I send all three pictures, hoping the answer will come right away.

 

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