Just Lovers

That's bad, I'm sorry. I do love this man, I do.

I confessed my troubles to their eager ears over dinner. I stared into their friendly eyes and asked them all the questions I want to ask him, but can't. They had no answers. They are, after all, his friends. But they listened, and that was enough. So we toasted to relationships and we toasted to the irony of love. We toasted to any matter of the heart that we could dream up, slamming back more shots than I could count on the fingers that type this entry.

Chris went to bed, slurring his speech and laughing at his faltering steps as he tried to walk, unaided, through the hotel. He collapsed once inside their room, and I have yet to see him since.

Billy and I continued to drink.

To talk.

He told me this story about when he was younger, the day he realized he was in love with Linzi. They had lost their virginities to one another, and she was feeling regret at their actions. She was crying into his chest when he simply stated, "I love you." Or so, that's how his story went. It reminded me of all the good times I'd had with Paul, all the moments in our youth when our eyes would meet across a room and I would just feel my heart do cartwheels inside my chest. That was the feeling I wanted to recapture tonight. That was what I hoped to achieve, I think, when I allowed the talking to turn to something else.

Fucking.

I'm not sure how it started and who initiated, if it was Billy or myself or Coors Light. Either way, I'm responsible for my actions and my actions were x-rated and all wrong. I remember the feel of him in my mouth, his taste, and his moans. How he reacted as I stroked him and swirled my tongue slowly, how he begged me to speed my movements so he might reach release faster. How he called my name.

It should have stopped there.

It should never have happened.

We continued on, though. He drove into me slowly, passionately. There was a want in those ocean blue eyes of his; a tenderness in his touch that portrayed his lust without the animalistic hunger. It felt right to be there with him in those moments, my legs wrapped around his amazingly small hips. My hands traveling frantically around his back, his hips thrusting hungrily into me.

He was so beautiful in those moments, and I hate myself for feeling that way.

But he was beautiful.

I loved him that hour.

I did.

Is that wrong?

Is it wrong that, with his hard cock inside me, I called his name and wanted him to fill me with his sex? That I forgot the name of the man I have loved since grade school, and instead, could only scream one name.

Billy.

Amberly stared at the computer monitor, her jaw nearly about to unhinge. "Holy fucking shit."

"What?" Jennifer called from in the kitchen. "What's wrong?"

Amberly let out a slight chirp and began closing out windows on the screen. "Nothing, Jen. I slipped and almost fell out of my chair, that's all." She laughed nervously. "I'm a klutz."

Jen laughed and Amberly heard the refrigerator door shut softly. "Be careful, dippy!"

"I will," she called back nervously. "I'm fine." There was no response from the kitchen and Amberly let out a giant sigh. "Holy fucking shit," she mumbled. "Holy fucking shit. This is fucked up."

"What is?" Jen questioned, raising an eyebrow as she raised a bottle of spring water to her lips.

Amberly let out another great sigh and bit her bottom lip. "Can I ask you something?"

Jen nodded.

"Ever since you came back from L.A., you've been acting kind of strange. I mean, you've only been home for a day-"

"Less than a day," Jen smiled. She stared at her watch. "Twenty hours, in fact."

"Right," Amberly smirked. "But you're not acting right. And you did call me in the middle of the day crying while you were there. I'm just....worried, that's all."

"You're right," Jen nodded, a solemn look on her face now. "We do need to talk. Let's go sit in the living room, okay? I think this might be a long conversation."

Amberly nodded slowly, standing up and following her friend. She was worried about Jen, especially after having read what she was never supposed to see. Her best friend had had an affair with Paul's band mate; a man who was engaged to one of their best friends. "Can I start?" Amberly sighed as she flopped down onto the sofa and shut the television off. "Because I have to make a confession."

"You read my journal," Jen smiled softly. "I figured that out already."

Amberly blushed crimson. "I'm sorry, Jen, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay," Jen sighed, waving her hand as if to clear the tension in the air. "I was going to tell you, anyhow. I just didn't know how and I didn't want to you to think less of me."

"As if I ever would?" Amberly smiled reassuringly. "I mean, I'm not exactly the Virgin Mary here." The two girls laughed. "Jen, I understand what happened between you and Billy. He's separated from Linz and confused, you're looking for answers that Paul can't seem to give you. You both needed solace and somehow, you found it in each other."

"That's a nice way of putting it," Jen snorted. "I'd term it more like drunken debauchery, but alright. Finding solace in one another's arms is more poetic, right?"

Amberly nodded. "Does Paul know?"

"Of course not!" Jen nearly shrieked. "Are you crazy? He'd murder Billy's scrawny ass, chop my head off and nail it to his front door. And after all that was done, he'd fuck up every bass track on the next record and then blame the loss of his career on me."

"That's putting it lightly," Amberly winked.

"Right," Jen nodded. "He doesn't know and he can't know."

"What about Linz?" Amberly questioned quietly. "Is Billy going to tell her?"

Jen shot up straight in her seat. "I sure as fuck hope not! "

Amberly tried not to laugh at the panic-stricken look on her friend's face. "Jen, hon, he may feel that she needs to know. He might tell her when they get back together. And not to be a bitch, but you did this. You consciously chose to sleep with your friend's fiancé. You need to be prepared to deal with the consequences of that, and those involve Paul finding out what happened. I may not tell him, you may not tell him, Billy sure as hell won't tell him; but you can bet that if Linzi finds out what happened that night, she's going to hightail it to Paul and cry on his sleeve."

"You're right," Jen sighed, feeling the weight of her mistake tugging on her broken heart.

"Just like I have to deal with the consequences of my actions," Amberly added in a near whisper.

Jen raised her head, tears streaming down her cheeks, and stared at her friend. "What actions?"

Amberly's eyes filled with identical tears. "I'm pregnant."

"You're what?" Jen could barely speak. "What?" She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She could not have heard Amberly right, it just was not possible. "Amberly, what did you just say?" she stammered.

"That weekend," Amberly began to sob. "I fucked Chris. We fucked a lot that weekend, and I never once thought, you know, to use protection. He's Chris, you know? He would never give me something, he wouldn't hurt me. I just didn't think. I fucked him, stupidly, blindly. Like an animal, Jen. I was an animal. I didn't care. We were having a weekend with the guys, and it felt right, so I did it. I was a stupid, dumb fucking moron. Now I'm knocked up and I have no boyfriend, fuck, I barely have a job to pay the rent around here. I've got a kid inside me that's screwed because, well, his mom is a fucking numbskull and-"

"You have Chris," Jen interrupted, sniffling as she stared at her friend in disbelief. "Amberly, Chris loves you. He would do anything for you. He wants to marry you!"

"I don't want to marry him," Amberly screamed, stepping away from the sofa and slamming her fists down toward her hips. "Okay? I don't fucking want to marry him! I don't love him, Jennifer. You think that just because two people have sex, they love each other. In your little Molly Ringwald world, that's true. Well, in my world, which is called reality, it's not. I fucked Chris, yes. I wanted to fuck him and I love his body. I hope that's not too much honesty for you, miss prim and proper. But it's true. I love his cock, but I do not love him!"

Amberly stormed out of the room, and disappeared. Jennifer couldn't move, she simply stared at the space that her friend had occupied moments before.

"We are fucked," Jen stated aloud, staring around their small living room. "We are fucked."

She stood and walked across the room toward the telephone. Before she understood what her body was doing, she had dialed the familiar number and greeted the familiar voice on the other end of the phone.

"Jen, please," he offered with exasperation in his deep voice. "I can't understand anything you're saying."

"I love you," she cried softly. "I love you, Paul, and you don't love me."

He sighed. "I never said I didn't love you, Jen."

"Then tell me you love me," she challenged. "Say it, Paul!" There was no response. "You can't even say it," she cried. "I've loved you since we were in grade school, you asshole. Since the day you stuck up for me at recess. Do you even remember that? Do you remember how we met?"

"Jennifer," he groaned. "Please, this is ridiculous."

"To you!" she spat angrily. "It's ridiculous to you. It's important to me."

"Jennifer Anne Sterling," he stated softly. "I know you don't believe that I love you, and I know I have a strange way of showing it. But I do love you. I have loved you since the day I saw you on the playground at Fuller Elementary. Since the moment I saw your little red beret fly off your head and land in that mud puddle. I love you very much, but I cannot promise you eternity right now. I know you want something solid and I feel like an asshole because I can't-"

"Paul, don't," she groaned. "Don't."

"I do love you, Jennifer. I wish you understood that," he sighed.

"I understand, Paul," she frowned into the phone. "But I don't think you do."

"Jen?" he frowned again, and she could hear the exhaustion in his voice. "Are we going to argue?"

She sobbed softly, curling into a ball on the couch. "I don't want to, Paul. I don't want to."

"Can I change the subject?" he laughed lightly. "I have a question."

"I guess," she sighed. "It can't hurt."

"Chris said the two of you talked about Amberly. What did you say to him?" Paul questioned, and she heard him exhale loudly. He was smoking.

"I thought you were going to quit?" Jen laughed. "You promised me!"

"Yeah, well," he laughed. "Seriously, what did you say to Chris cause he's been pounding the skins like a madman. Not that he's not normally insane, but yesterday, he bashed in five drumheads alone. It's nuts. He's going through that shit like Animal on a fucking Muppets holiday."

Jennifer laughed at his analogy. "I told him nothing, really. I mean, this is Amberly we're talking about. The girl that surprised us all by dumping her boyfriend of three years two weeks before senior prom, and taking another girl to the dance. I can't gauge what she's thinking, Paul. I told him I know she cares about him. That's all I know."

"That's all you know?" he repeated, and she heard him exhale a large plume of smoke. "You sure?"

"Why?" Jen asked defensively.

Paul laughed softly. "No biggie, kiddo. Calm down. Chris just seems to think that there's something up with Amberly. She actually returned his phone call the other day. Monday, when you were flying home. She called his cell and we were in the studio, so of course, he didn't answer it. Anyhow, apparently she left some deranged message, all crying and shit, saying that she was so very sorry that she had ruined their lives."

"Huh," Jen thought out loud.

"Strange, right? Amberly doesn't usually admit any wrongdoing," Paul snorted. He choked, and Jen wished she was there to rip the cancer stick from his fingers. "So, anyway, Chris has been destroying his drum kit, literally. I'm not sure what she said exactly, just that it upset him and he's not fully here, mentally. Fuck it, Jennifer, fucking Joel noticed it. When Joel Madden notices someone's emotional unraveling, you know it's pretty-"

"Significant," Jen smiled. "Yeah."

"So I was just thinking, you know, maybe she said something to you or-"

"No," she interrupted. "She hasn't. I mean, I haven't been home very long, but we've barely spoken. She's been locked up in her room, painting like a madwoman since I got home."

"Oh yeah?" Paul questioned with amusement. "What's she painting?"

"No idea," Jen shrugged. "She's like us: darkness and emotional upheaval inspire her. So if there's some major going on between her and Chris, who knows. She'll paint herself out of it."

"Right, right," he muttered and she heard him cough again. "Speaking of, I wrote some poetry today. I think your little visit inspired me."

Jen felt her face blush. "Really?"

He laughed. "Yeah. Want me to read you some?"

"I'd love it!" she clapped excitedly. "Oh, grab your notebook and read me something good."

"Alright, gimme a second," he laughed and she heard him searching through his duffel bag. "You have to promise not to be upset with me, okay?"

"Why would I be upset with you?" she snorted. "You're my friend." She nearly cringed with the words. "I adore you and your writing."

"Well," he laughed nervously. "What I wrote is kind of...." his voice trailed off.

"Kind of what, Paul?" Jen grinned. "Half the poetry I write is kind of awful, but I still let you read it."

He smirked. "Let's just say, it's poetry that comes from my heart and my nether regions. Shall I leave it at that?"

Jen laughed self-consciously. "Oh."

"Shall I read then?" he laughed.

"Go right ahead, Shakespeare," Jen smiled with anticipation. "Sonnet me, baby."

He laughed at this, and then cleared his throat. He began to read her his first poem, ending with a perfectly enunciated, "With you I feel the wind of opportunity stretching into the vast openness of my arms. Your breasts like a bastion of motivation, propelling my villainous, manly charms."

Jen laughed. "Paulie, you're horrible!"

Paul blushed. "I know. But that's not even the 'bad' one."

"Oh dear," Jen giggled. "Hit me!"

"Oh, I'd like to," he grinned. "Here goes," he sighed. "Fingers to hands, toes to legs. Between your thighs, the heat that begs- for my ignition, recognition," he read slowly and Jen could not help but laugh. "What's so funny?" he smirked.

Jen continued giggling. "Paul, I'm sorry, I do love you, but those are just some of the worst rhymes I've ever-"

"Alright," he barked with amusement, and she heard his notebook slap shut. "No more Shakespeare for you, Miss Jennifer."

"Sorry, sorry," she laughed. "It was cute. I'm sorry," she took a deep breath and exhaled away her laughter. "It was sweet, Paulie. It was very sweet."

"Mmyeah, well," he grinned, twisting his lips playfully. "I read it to Benji and I think he nearly wet himself."

Jen erupted into a second fit of laughter.

"Jennifer!" Paul whined. "You're not supposed to laugh at me like HE did!"

"I always said," Jen nearly cried with mirth, "that Benji and I were meant to be twins."

Paul groaned. "Not funny."

"Speaking of, how is Mr. Roaming Gnome? Is Angelina still in town?" Jen laughed, referring to Paul's band mate by her favorite term of endearment. She had always said that Benji reminded her of the little character in the television commercials.

"Actually, yeah, she is. Benji wrote her some love poetry the other night, and I heard him reading it to her," he quipped. "Apparently, it didn't go over so well, because I saw her running down the hallway of the hotel with a giant wet stain on the ass of her shorts."

Jen giggled. "Paulie, I was teasing you!"

"Yeah," Paul cracked. "Sure. I do a nice thing, I write you some beautiful material and you-"

"Beautiful?" Jen shrieked. "Paul, you had a line about the sun gleaming off my 'Virgin white ass'!"

Paul laughed. "Well, that rhymed with 'She's got sophistication and class'!"

"Paul Anthony Thomas," she snorted. "You are too much! You make it so hard for me to hate you, you know?"

"I know," Paul beamed. "I rock!"

"That was such a Benjamin thing to say," Jen snorted. "I think you've been spending too much time with the Roaming Gnome."

"I probably have," Paul yawned. "We've been stuck in the studio for long hours every day. It's insane. I think we're all losing our minds. Fuck, Joel and Benji got into a screaming match yesterday over what guitar Benj was going to play on the bridge of 'Another Day Past'. I thought they were going to gut each other alive over it, too. It was insane. We all had to take a step back and realize that, it's just another record, you know? Sure, we have pressure from the label and management, the media, the fans. But when it all comes down to it, we've done this before, right? It's just another record."

"Right," Jen nodded. "Are they okay now?"

Paul sighed. "Yeah, I mean, they're bickering here and there: I think it's a twin thing. They have their good days, they have their bad days. They seem to fight a lot outside the studio. Joel's been seeing this new girl and Benji really hates her. Fuck it, we all really despise the bitch. Anyhow, apparently the other night, Joel and the new chick, Benji and Angelina all went out to a movie, and somehow or other- I don't know the details- the bitch punched Angie. Needless to say, that got the twins fighting and it did not get an approval rating for this girl from any of us, or Ang."

"Yikes," Jen cringed. "She must be a winner, huh?"

Paul snorted. "You could say that. I've only seen her once, but she's short. Short little thing, weighs about as much as my fucking thigh. She wore Prada heels and a Fendi jacket to a movie. Can you imagine?"

"Well, at least she'll match Joel," Jen antagonized.

"Whatever," Paul groaned. "It's just gross. All that money for a fucking jacket. I don't even spend that kind of cash on tires for my fucking car, you know?"

"I know," Jen grinned. "That's why I love you!"

"I'd like for you to love me right now," he sighed softly. "I'm...frustrated, as they say."

"Oh?" Jen cocked an eyebrow and giggled softly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well," Paul grinned and readjusted his cell phone against his ear. "While you were here, I kind of got used to being taken care of, my needs, that is. And now you're not here," he groaned dramatically. "My right hand is tired, kid. So very tired."

"Gross!" Jen laughed. "Maybe I can help you now?"

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" Paul smirked. "Oh you bad, bad, naughty girl!"

"Just lay back," Jen blushed. "And exhale loudly. Relax." Paul did as she said, and she heard him breath deeply, then exhale. "Run your hand down your chest, and into your pants."

"Shorts," he corrected with a wink.

"Whatever," Jennifer laughed. "Work with me here. I've never done this before."

Paul gasped playfully. "You've never had phone sex before?"

"And you have?" Jennifer gasped back. "Paul, how the hell?"

"I, we, she, I," Paul stammered. "I have, yeah. I was seeing this girl in Michigan once, you know, she was a 'road thing', and she'd call me every night and talk to me for hours. We'd talk dirty and stuff. It was fun."

Jennifer sighed. "Really?"

Paul nodded and smiled with the memory. "This one night, she told me to pretend she was there. And she walked me through all this stuff. She painted these vivid pictures, Jen. Like she'd say, 'Run your hand up your cock and pause, think of me staring up at you, my eyes wide and pleading for you to beg for more.' It was amazing. So I'd just lay here and stroke myself, and she'd tell me these stories. Make me imagine her riding me, or her biting my ear. She drove me nuts with the things she'd say on those nights." He paused and sighed. "But anyhow, that was short-lived. She flew out to a show in Chicago one night, met Tony, and that was the end of me. I haven't heard from her since."