Artificial Love (The Goodbye Trilogy #2) (8 page)

BOOK: Artificial Love (The Goodbye Trilogy #2)
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Chapter Fourteen

Emily

 

Johnny Lennox kissed me and I didn’t care that he did it to shut me up. He placed those beautiful lips onto mine and my, oh my, I was reborn. Well, I was a little girl with the giggles. I had to stifle them as he casually moved about the kitchen, retrieving more beers. I snapped out of my lust image of him on top of me and jumped up.

“Oh, goodness. Let me get that for you. You just got home. It’s so late. You must be hungry and tired. I made a casserole after we spoke and that’s simmering in the oven. Are those your clothes to clean? Do you need them done right away?” I felt like a piece of shit. He had served me and I got misguided by his obvious dislike of my appearance and that kiss. Wow…that kiss.

“Emily. Stop,” he firmly stated as he put his hands around my flailing body, trying to move around to get him the casserole, the beers, and starting to dive into his bag.

“Stop what, Johnny?” I looked at him perplexed. He had to be hungry. He must have very little to wear after a tour that long and he sort of smelled like feet and cheap beer. I tried not to wince when I caught a whiff of his shirt, no matter how beautiful he looked in it – it reeked of a rock star tour.

“You’re my guest, sweetheart. You don’t do anything special for me. I see you cleaned. Don’t do that. I have a maid come in on Sunday afternoons. You cooked. Don’t do that. I want to take you to some of the best restaurants in New York City. Lastly, you will never touch my dirty laundry unless there’s a fire and it’s the only thing you have to throw on before you escape the flames.”

His smile broke across his face and it was brilliant. His messed up hair, his tired eyes, and his smooth voice all made me want to melt. If he kept looking at me like that, my stomach would eventually give out and I would vomit.

“I just want to pull my weight around here. You aren’t charging me rent and I promise I will leave just as soon as I can. I applied for a job this week and I’m hoping they call on Monday.”

Johnny’s smile stayed firm on his face and may have even grown a little brighter if I did say so myself.

“Really? What’s the job? That’s fantastic news,” he confirmed as his arms tightened even more around my waist.

“Oh you know, it’s silly, really. That convenience store on the corner? They’re hiring for the night shift and since they will accept a high school diploma, and no experience, I think I’ll get it. Can you believe it will be my first job in nearly fifteen years? I don’t even remember what a paycheck looks like,” I laughed.

I tried to wiggle myself away a little from Johnny. His holding me was so foreign to me and I felt awkward. Yes, Michael was the ‘Douche Face of the Millennium’ and our marriage didn’t mean anything, but the sudden closeness between Johnny and I didn’t seem morally right. Until the divorce was finalized, I would stay true to the vows I had made. Keep my side of the street clean, green and all that. 

Maybe Johnny would still want to kiss and hold me then – whenever that was going to happen. Maybe not, but boy, did he give me hope that one day a man would want to do those things. It had been so long since Michael looked at me with lust in his eyes. In fact, the man never lusted after me. Not once. Had I been too proper in bed? Should I have done more to spice up our sex life? From some of the photos of Jules on Johnny’s wall, it looked like he liked black lingerie and thongs. I made a mental note to buy those things the day my divorce went through.

“The twenty four hour store at the corner? You applied there?” he asked pretentiously.

I nodded my head with excitement. Johnny pulled his arms away, noticing that I had tried to retreat and scrubbed his hands over his face with a groan.

“Emily,” he started as he leaned his hip on the side of the kitchen counter. “I absolutely am so damn proud that you landed a job but sweetheart, there’s no way in fucking hell that you will work at that store. As long as you live under this roof, you will not work for minimum wage, anywhere.”

For a moment, if I closed my eyes and forgot where I was, I could imagine it was Michael scolding me for not having the casserole warm enough for dinner time. My back went up and Johnny noticed instantly.

“Listen, even if you did accept that job, you would never find an apartment with that little income. You have to find something that pays more.” He was back pedaling and even though I had despised the tone of voice he used only a few moments ago, I also knew he was a friend who was right. He didn’t want to keep me from working. He just wanted me to make enough to live on my own. Johnny was a nice guy. He hadn’t cared about the casserole or the laundry. He wanted me to be happy and comfortable. It was all too nice.

“What if I can’t find something? I don’t have a college degree. I only know how to keep a home,” I quivered a little as I pushed those embarrassing words out of my mouth.

“If you can’t find something right away, let me see if there’s something you can do on tour. We always need extra hands with cleaning up and organizing. We don’t leave again for a few days, but sweetheart - I don’t want you to worry about leaving. I love having you here. Shit, you keep this place so clean and… I like you, Emily. I
really
like you,” he said as he smoothed his hands over my hair. It felt so nice.

“But you don’t like the hair, do you?” I winced as I asked him.

“Do you like your new hair?” His amused look was so adorable.

I grimaced and shook my hair. “I hate it,” I croaked out and then I felt awful for even being there. What had I done? I left my husband? Applied to a corner store? Chopped off my hair and dyed it orange? I was living with a rock star and the only time I had felt like myself was when I was dusting his awards and the wood furniture.

A big tear fell from my eyes and I gasped at the fact that I was now crying in front of my host. How very rude of me. I tried to excuse myself to go crawl into a corner, but Johnny pulled me back into his arms and hugged me with every part of his body. He was rock solid and felt so good.

“I have a great hairdresser. Whenever you’re ready, we can get an appointment and he will fix it for you. I promise. And as much as I love my grandmother, paisley doesn’t suit that sexy body of yours. We don’t have to do pretentious but let’s at least do cool casual. Does that sound okay?” he asked into my hair as he moved his hand up and down my back.

Another fat tear fell from my eye and I melted into him. “That sounds very nice, Johnny. Thank you for being here. I really like you, as well. I might like you a little too much right now.”

Johnny pulled back and searched my eyes. My head fell and I felt so silly – again.

“I’m so lonely and you’re being so darn sweet. I don’t have any friends… obviously. Why would I search for a childhood friend that I lost touch with in junior high if I did? It was so stupid.” I was clearly acting like a child but I didn’t care. I needed a bigger pity party. Johnny might help with that.

“You know what, Emily?” he asked abruptly. I lifted my head to find that grin on his face once again. It was contagious. I smiled back and cocked my head to the side in question.

“I’m hungry. How about we eat some spaghetti?” he suggested with a devilish smile creeping on his face as I let his words sink in.

Oh. The Spaghetti.

Oh. OH!

The mushrooms.

Oh!

“I haven’t ever. I mean, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know anything about them.” I was floundering. His return had been a whirlwind of emotions. I was so happy to have someone around. Lord knows I was sick of talking to Grace.

“Do you trust me, Emily?” His smile was gone and he looked so sincere. I nodded my head slowly.

We had another small stare off until I watched Johnny go to the refrigerator and pull out the pot with the Post-It note on it. He grabbed two large forks from a nearby drawer and came back to the table again.

Chapter Fifteen

Johnny

 

Playful stare offs with Emily were so much fucking fun. She was a mess and I loved it. It took all of the pressure off of my own crazy. Somehow she hadn’t noticed and if she did, she said nothing about the fact that I was completely obsessed with all things Julia Delaney. I needed to take those pictures down soon. A slight pinch occurred in the pit of my stomach and I drew in a deep breath.

Nevertheless, Emily and I needed to try again. There was always tomorrow and all that shit. We needed a clean slate, a fresh start, a new beginning. How else does one clear the palate than with mushrooms? They made even the most confused humans see everything perfectly clear. I knew it would be a good experience for Emily, just as long as I watched her the entire time to be sure she didn’t have a bad trip. I had never personally seen one but I knew I had to hover and I was not complaining about that one little bit.

The stare off began again when I held out a fork to Emily from across the table, over the mushroom laced spaghetti. It was laughable, actually. Mushrooms already tasted absolutely disgusting. Mushrooms in spaghetti? Damn, this was not going to be pretty.

“We’re running out of time. Let’s do this. Come on, Emily,” I urged her.

Emily’s eyes blinked a few times as she realized that we were having a stare-off for a reason and not to just look into each other’s eyes for pleasure. Stare-offs with Emily were my new favorite past time. She cleared her throat and very prettily, took the fork. She placed a napkin from the table in her lap and I stifled a gut busting laugh. She was about to eat hallucinogenic drugs and she was worried about getting sauce on her ugly paisley pajamas? I might have just fallen in love with this girl.

Whoa. What the fuck? Did I just think that about someone other than Jules?

Yes, I suppose I did since my heart wouldn’t stop drumming so hard.

I thought I would have to force her to eat but she went straight for the parts of the spaghetti that had the mushrooms prominently in the sauce. I watched her with rapt attention as she placed those perfect lips around the fork and food; like I had imagined on the bus.

My dick got hard as she closed her eyes and groaned against the food. I couldn’t tell if she thought it was good or if it was so bad that she was trying to cover up the distaste with verbal distraction. Fuck, she was distracting me. I knew my jaw was dropped open. I felt the little beads of saliva at each corner of my mouth, and I definitely felt that my favorite jeans were way too tight for my dick at the moment.

“This is absolutely disgusting,” she finally said, bringing the napkin to her mouth. “I never thought to taste it because I make spaghetti like Martha Stewart. Well, usually.”

Her face dropped with disappointment.

I didn’t understand but her words brought me out of my Emily daze and I went in with my fork. It was fucking gross.

“No matter how you eat mushrooms, the cow shit, molded taste overrides every other taste.”

Her face lit up. “So it wasn’t my cooking? I didn’t fail?”

I coughed on a piece of mushroom that had classically got caught in my back molar. I shook my head as I tried to fork the piece out of my tooth.

“Even Martha Stewart couldn’t make these mushrooms taste any better. You didn’t fail, Emily. This is actually perfect,” I reassured her with a small smile.

“How long until… you know… we trip out?” She sounded a little scared and I needed to squash that thought right away.

“It will happen when it happens. Right now just focus on eating and talking to me, okay?” I asked as I looked into her eyes. Her eyes were so soft and welcoming. Eyes never change and I could tell that even Jules probably loved Emily as a childhood friend.

“Tell me about your relationship with Jules,” Emily said as she took another bite and cringed.

I stopped my fork halfway to my mouth and closed my eyes.

How could she possibly know that I was just thinking about Jules? What the hell was I doing, eating mushrooms with Emily? One of the times I ate mushrooms, I had fallen in complete love with Jules. I debated with myself whether to tell Emily.

“Jules and I were college friends. We formed a band. I took mushrooms one night with her in our apartment and we both realized we had more than just friendly feelings for one another. Our band’s name was born that night.” I stopped to think as I took another bite. I thought about the My Little Pony shows that Jules and I were enthralled in. I thought about how I had fucked her on every surface of our apartment that weekend. It was exhilarating and such a high. Alas, everything that goes up must come falling back down with a crash.

I tried to put Emily’s face in my mind’s picture of that long ago night and I inwardly bitch slapped myself. Emily was too classy for the raw, savage sex Jules and I shared. Emily deserved white, silky sheets with candles, and Neil Diamond singing in stereo - our own fitting theme song. I’d please every inch of her body and not stop until she knew, without a doubt, that she was perfect. I pulled Emily’s fork away and picked up the rest of the spaghetti.

“We ate enough.” My tone was firm and resolute. If we ate the whole pot, we would be flipping out and I wasn’t interested.

“Okay,” she answered quietly as I turned on the garbage disposal and dumped the rest down the sink. I threw some detergent in the pan and turned around to look at her. She was cleaning the area on the kitchen table with her napkin and making sure sauce wasn’t staining it. She was so frigging cute.

“So Jules and I became an item,” I started again, obviously startling Emily from her cleaning reverie.

“We were happy, I guess,” I shrugged. “I had never been in a serious relationship before her so I thought we were good. On one of our first tours, I got pretty fucked up and fucked another girl.”

It wasn’t a pretty story and I wasn’t going to sugar coat it. I hated myself every day after and alleviated that guilt by fucking more and more but I wasn’t going to tell Emily that.

“Wait, the magazines said that you two were engaged. Was that before?” She looked really confused and I had to smile at that. It was just another dig at the type of jackass I was. I was so sick of being a jackass. I was so sick of reliving those memories over and over again. Would she ever stop haunting me?

“I got her back,” I said on an exhale and crossed my legs. “But, well - she didn’t really want me then either. I mean, she did. We had remained friends so falling back into a relationship was easy. She was tired of the road and all the bull shit that came with. There was a guy named Brennan. He was all she thought about but he was married and that was really fucking hard on her. So, in the end, I fucked his wife so that they could be together.”

Emily sputtered. “You what?”

“I saw the way she watched Brennan. I could feel the love they had for each other. I wanted it so badly for myself that I got jealous. I figured that one of us should be happy so I fucked his wife after a show. Brennan left her and Jules left me and the band. I hadn’t expected that. I thought we would go back to being friends but I really lost her.”

I drew in a breath. I don’t think I had told Dr. Fuck Nuts this much in all the sessions combined. Emily made me want to expel all of my sins.

“Since then,” I continued. “I’ve become obsessed with her. Now I know I shouldn’t be because she married Brennan and they look so happy together and it blows. I want her back.” I finished because I was
not
going to tell Emily that I had Jules followed after I found out where she had escaped to. I wasn’t going to tell her about how the guy I hired to follow her also fell in lust with her. I remember telling myself that I needed to know if she was with Brennan. I needed to know that I had done the right thing.

“That sounds so… childish and immature. You weren’t a martyr, if that is what you want people to think,” Emily said with a pitiful look.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t childish,” I grinned. “In fact, games were my favorite pastime up until the day I destroyed my friendship and my band. I’ll never be a martyr. I’m too selfish. I think part of me wanted her to want me and I don’t know. I was too jealous. I couldn’t think clearly. Sometimes, I still can’t.”

“Is she happy now?” Emily asked, now looking genuinely interested.

“She’s so happy that it makes me sick,” I answered stonily.

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