Artificial Love (The Goodbye Trilogy #2) Read online

  Johnny clearly didn’t understand because the strange look on his face was confused, baffled, and maybe even a little pitiful.

  “Sorry to hear about your husband,” he finally offered. “So, you don’t have a place to crash tonight then?”

  I shook my head slowly and looked out the front window. I should have done something different from the very start. I should have never even danced with Michael at that party. I wanted to strangle my nineteen year old self into oblivion.

  “Well, I have a pretty comfortable couch you can…” he started to offer but I cut him off.

  “That is very nice of you, Johnny, but I’m fine right here in the car. Once I get a little daylight, I’ll walk around and see if I can find a place.”

  “So this isn’t just a spur of the moment visit to NYC?” he inquired.

  I shook my head again with a little more force this time. “No. I can’t go back.” My eyes started to tear up and I heard my mother’s voice telling me that the first rule of thumb is never let anyone see you cry. She did spend a lot of time in the bathroom when I was a child. I understood now. Johnny needed to walk back into his place and leave me alone with my own self-pity.

  “Come on. It will be just one night. Julia used to live with me so there is some girlie shit in the bathroom you can use,” he suggested. No, he was demanding me to come in, since he was already opening the door for me.

  I looked away and whispered a thank you to him. I didn’t bother to lock anything. I just followed Johnny up the stairs, in to the elevator, and we silently walked into his apartment. It was a nice place -bigger than I had thought, but then again, he was a musician for a very popular band that I honestly had never heard one beat of.

  “Let me grab you some sheets and shit,” he snapped his fingers. What a lovely host. The first polite thing to do would be to offer me a drink but since it was so late in the night, I gave him points for coming in with the close second of guests’ sleeping provisions.

  “Thank you,” I whispered again. I heard him rummage through the kitchen and he came out with two beers. “Here. You look like you need one or maybe ten right now,” he smiled at me as he took a swill off of his beer. He was cute. Besides the obvious tattoos on his chest, he was a clean cut blond with a very nice body. He obviously worked out. He hadn’t shaved today and that was a little off putting but he probably had been very busy, seeing as he was a musician.

  I watched his face carefully as I took my first swig of beer. It had been years. I preferred wine and champagne but holy moly if this didn’t hit the spot. I closed my eyes and moaned. When I opened them, he was smirking at me.

  “What?” I asked incredulously.

  “Been a while?”

  “You could say that. Thank you. This is so perfect,” I replied.

  He jogged off to find my sheets and I wandered around the living room area. Julia’s picture was everywhere. I suppose she hadn’t taken much of her things when she moved out. I dusted a few photo frames off and looked at a bookshelf with some more pictures and books on it.

  I didn’t notice that the bottle had dropped and split into a million pieces until Johnny ran out and asked if I was alright. I pointed to the Ouija board on the second to last shelf of the bookcase. It was sitting at the perfect angle that I could make out the three sets of initials. One set were mine. E.F. Emily Fuller. My maiden name. The name I would soon be once more.

  “Where the hell did you get that?” My finger shook as I felt more than heard Grace’s letters answering back to me. The word?

  Nice. Nice. Nice.

  After all these years, I finally believed the dead girl was right. I did grow up to be nice.

  Too nice.

  Chapter Seven

  Johnny

  I looked at Emily’s shaking finger and to the Ouija board that Mark had handed back to me at our final meeting. I supposed that getting arrested breaks the legal contract of following someone. It also turned out that the guy ended up having a thing for Jules. Of course he did.

  I watched Emily go two shades paler than her already fair skin and as she brought her shaking hand up to her mouth, a small tear fell down the side of her cheek. I got it then. It all made absolute fucking sense.

  “You are Emmy!” I announced, causing her to jump. “You’re one of the three that talked to Grace. Each of you got a word, right?”

  She didn’t say anything. She didn’t move a muscle. The poor girl looked like a granite statue in a museum. She was actually very beautiful in the girl next door kind of way. I took the opportunity to check her out since she was checked out. Nice ass, something I could grip on to. Tits, wow, her tits were nice. Not too big but more than my hand full. The curve of her slender waist was sexy. She rocked a beautiful red sweater that brought out her green eyes. She was clearly from upper class since she dressed to fit that social circle. Why the fuck would she want to rekindle a friendship with Jules? Those two couldn’t be any more different and this girl kept saying the word ‘nice’ like it was the only adjective she knew.

  Nice.

  “You got nice, didn’t you?” I said in a low voice. I didn’t want to scare her but seriously? She was slightly freaking me out.

  Her head turned to look at me and with her hand still on her mouth and eyes full of tears, she nodded. She closed her eyes, which allowed all the droplets of sadness to flow down her face.

  “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I am crying over this. I just thought…well, I thought this board was gone,” she speculated. She was mind fucked. She needed something stronger than a beer.

  I went to the kitchen and brought down the Crown Royal. I poured two fingers each and handed her one. She downed hers in a quick shot and coughed at the after burn.

  “Oh my God, I needed that.” She faintly smiled at me.

  “So is it true? Are you nice? And what the fuck does nice even mean? Jules got the word ‘slut’ so that was pretty straightforward, but how does nice play into it all?” I asked, pondering what being nice entailed. Was I nice? Probably not. Actually, most definitely not.

  “Well, let’s see. I was nice in high school and let the popular girls cheat off my paper. When one girl got caught, I took the fall for it. I was just trying to be nice. I wanted to be her friend, you know? She said she would hook me up with Brad Prescott for the prom. He was a nice guy. I bought the most beautiful dress and waited outside my house until midnight. The next Monday, he said he realized he had asked someone else out. I forgave him, of course. I was very nice about that one,” she scoffed and her face morphed into a look of pure disgust.

  “You know what nice is, Johnny? It is letting people walk all over you. It is people taking and taking and taking just so that you know that they think you are a nice person,” she proclaimed as she took more of the Crown Royal and poured herself another shot. “Oh, may I have some more?”

  I put my hand out as to let her know to proceed. I didn’t understand a fucking word she was saying but those lips were deliciously tempting right now. The beer and the shot revived my earlier buzz and I leaned back on the couch to watch her suck the liquid through those plump lips. This was Emmy from twelve year old Julia’s life and I was drinking with her. What a freaking trip.

  “I suppose nice also means that you married a douche bag who cheated on you and it took you a while to finally say you were done?” I cautioned to ask.

  She nodded and stuck out her tongue in disgust from the shot she had taken. “Absolutely. I knew he was fucking women. Hell, some of them I made pies for on a monthly basis. It was like, here. Have some pie and why don’t you suck my husband’s dick, too?” She snorted. It was cute.

  “You know what would be nice?” I asked as I moved closer to her.

  “Hmm?” She hummed up at me from the floor.

  “Your tongue on mine,” I said in my most seductive voice. She stared at me with a blank expression at first and then looked at my lips. She turned her head just a bit to take in my whole face.

 
“I’m not very good at that sort of stuff. I mean, come on, that’s the reason my husband cheated. I wouldn’t explore or be adventurous,” she quoted with her fingers.

  “A kiss is a kiss. Kisses are nice,” I repeated.

  “Okay,” she said, looking at me but not moving at all. I got down on the floor and took her chin in my palms. She closed her eyes.

  “Open. Watch me kiss you nicely,” I finished before my lips found hers. They were like virgin lips. She didn’t know how to kiss. She remained motionless and I nibbled at every part of her lips until she gasped at one particular spot in the corner.

  My tongue invaded her whiskey drenched mouth and I tied my tongue up with hers. She watched me with the attention of a student who watches their teacher.

  “Move with me,” I demanded into her mouth. She closed her eyes, put her hands on my shoulders, and repeated back every motion I gave to her. It was one of the nicest kisses I had ever had in my life. Actually nice was not the word for it. It was the fucking best kiss I’d ever experienced in my life. With anyone. Including Julia Delaney.

  A cell phone ring tone began with fake birds chirping. It had the opposite effect of peacefulness since Emily pulled away suddenly. With wide eyes, she regarded me like she was just now seeing me for the first time. I felt her heavy breath on my moistened lips and there was a spell between us. Neither of us wanted to move. I quickly glanced at the birds starting to chirp once more and she gave me a sheepish smile.

  “That was…really good,” she said, her breath still heaving.

  “I thought so, too,” I confirmed with a wide grin. “In fact, can I have some more of those tasty lips? I was just getting started with them.”

  “Really?” she asked in surprise. “You want to keep… just kissing? I mean, well, I don’t know very much about… um…”

  “Fucking?” I breathed out.

  I was blunt. Johnny Lennox was nothing, if not totally in your face blunt. I knew I had offended her and quickly wished I had said something else. Her cringe drew her farther from my personal space and she looked over to her purse when the birds started to chirp again.

  “Emmy?” I asked, using the name that Julia always referred to in the stories. Her head popped up in surprise and then she smiled widely. She liked that.

  “Emmy, who’s calling you at two in the morning?” I asked.

  “Michael,” she whispered.

  “Michael, the cheating husband?”

  She nodded.

  “Aren’t you going to listen to what he has to say? I mean, I probably would,” I offered casually. I decided after I had cheated on Jules the first time that I would forgive her for cheating on me if that ever became a problem. I was Emmy’s husband in a way. I was the lying, cheating motherfucker that broke hearts, souls, and bands.

  She shrugged and got up to answer her insistent chirping phone. Again, that ring tone was not relaxing.

  “Hello?” she asked with a low, submissive sounding tone.

  I listened to her end of the conversation which wasn’t much. A few yes’s. A few firm no’s. A few more annoyed sounding no’s. He was obviously drilling her about her whereabouts and when she was going to come home to him. He was going to find her, coax her, or whatever he had to do to get her back. She was too weak not to go back.

  I absolutely knew the type since I was one of them.

  Chapter Eight

  Emily

  Johnny’s kiss was explosive. I was in shock. I listened to Michael scream at me on the other end of the phone but I was in love with kissing Johnny. He wanted to do more of it, too. I thought maybe telling him that I had no experience would make him back off of me but it did the opposite. It made him go straight to sex. I was appalled at how fast one could go from a heated kiss to sticking your penis into a person. Maybe that was Johnny, though. Maybe he was one of those guys that got around.

  Rock band.

  Beautiful women.

  Lots of alcohol.

  Yeah, I knew. I was at the bottom of a very long list. Nothing special and I supposed that fit right in with how I felt about myself in the moment too.

  “So, where are you going to live?” Michael snapped out at me. I shrugged my shoulders and forgot that he couldn’t see me doing it. Johnny tapped me on the shoulder. He motioned for me to cover the phone so I could talk to him.

  “I go on tour tomorrow for a week, well five days. Not far, just New Jersey and up to Maine and back down again. You can stay here while you look for a place.” Was he serious? A free place to stay for a week? I beamed at him. Johnny met my smile with a grin. I was feeling luckier by the minute.

  I got back on the phone. New Emmy on the line now. Johnny made me feel right at home when he called me that. I loved it coming out of those gorgeous lips of his.

  When Michael answered with my name in a resolved tone, I was the only one to speak.

  “I can’t talk to you. You destroyed our marriage. I’m perfectly fine and safe. I have a place to stay in New York so you don’t need to worry your pretty little penis over me.” I clicked off the phone and then powered it down. Wow. That felt really amazing. He no longer had a hold on me. I thought about how I hadn’t made him his dinner tonight and had a brief panic attack until I realized that he wasn’t my responsibility anymore. I shouldn’t have to cater to people. I should want to.

  When did I stop wanting to please Michael? It really felt like it was a long time since I saw our relationship as equal partners who equally did things for one another and was always considered in every aspect of the other’s life. Now, I pictured myself in that big beautiful home as the live in maid. It was wild how my perspective had changed so dramatically in a matter of hours. I was my own person and I might be getting a divorce.

  Even though that left an awful taste in my mouth, I didn’t see it any other way. Unless…I worked harder to make him love me. Maybe seeing a therapist was a good idea. What the hell was I going to do here in New York City anyway? It all caught up to me now and I felt like such an idiot.

  I started to cry. I put my head on my knees and covered it with my arms. I sobbed into my pants. At one point, Johnny had come over and started to rub my back. It was soothing but it didn’t take away the ache that I had failed in my marriage. I wasn’t good enough to keep Michael interested. Would I ever keep anyone interested in me?

  “Maybe I should go back to him,” I sniffled when I looked up to see Johnny’s empathetic face. It almost looked like he knew what it felt like to lose love. No guy would be giving me that look if he didn’t once feel the burning pain.

  “Why? What does he give to you?” Johnny asked with a sincere interest. Perhaps he had even been to a therapist because I could imagine a doctor right now asking me how Michael makes me feel.

  We were silent for a moment. Johnny stared at me, patiently waiting, while I stared off into space, my eye catching on a dust mote from the light. Never had dust looked so fascinating.

  “I don’t know what he gives me. Material things, I guess. He buys me really beautiful things. I mean, they are exquisite,” I grinned as I looked down at the famous red sweater.

  “What else? Like, does he take you places? Do you two laugh together? How’s your sex life?” He probed.

  “Wow, you are really firing these questions off at me. Something tells me you know what it’s like to lose a spouse or you have been in therapy before,” I admitted shyly. I had to ask even though it wasn’t my business, but hell, he was asking me a lot of very personal questions, too. And that kiss? We went from hot and turned on to a therapy session? This day couldn’t have been any weirder.

  “I am in therapy and I lost Julia. We were engaged. She got married a few weeks ago to a fucking dick face. I don’t know, I guess I just know what to ask to self-examine, or that is what my doctor calls it. Really, if you want him, go back,” he answered nonchalantly.

  He yawned and as he brought his arms up to stretch, his shirt lifted up to expose tight stomach muscles. I think I turned pi
nk because Johnny lowered his arms, which caused the shirt to go back down and I looked up to find him chuckling. Johnny was…sexy. He was also very intelligent. I felt really comfortable with him. I wished he would kiss me again. It was incredibly nice.

  “Well, it has been a long night. I would give you my bed but I had sex in it last night and you probably don’t want to sleep in that,” he winced.

  I gaped at his brazenness. “Okay, yes. I will most definitely take the couch.”

  “Good night, Emmy,” he sang. He had a beautiful voice and dammit, I didn’t want him to go to bed. I needed to talk about Michael and his questions. I did want to answer them and I wanted Johnny to… what? He said he had sex in his bed the night before. Obviously, he had a girlfriend despite the shrine to Julia. I tossed the thought of the fluke kiss out of my head and lay down on the couch in the fetal position with no pillow or blanket.

  One thing was for sure. Johnny was a terrible host.

  “Good night, Johnny,” I muttered as I fell into a deep sleep.

  In the early morning hours, I woke up to horns honking and the freezing fall cold coming in through an open window. My teeth were actually chattering and since I had no blanket, I was desperate. I tiptoed into Johnny’s room and he was obviously nice and warm since his bare chest was on display while he rested peacefully. I stopped short, admiring the detailed guitar tattooed across his chest. Gees, didn’t that hurt? My feet were so darn cold and I knew if I didn’t get warm soon, I was going to go crazy.

  I tapped on Johnny’s warm bare shoulder. It was smooth and my taps turned more into strokes as I tried to wake him. His eyes flittered open and he backed off from my face being right in his.

  “Sorry,” I whispered, as my teeth continued to chatter.

  “Jesus, you’re freezing,” he recognized with concern. He pulled up the blankets and motioned me to crawl in right next to him. Yes, it was a king sized bed and I could have curled up under the blanket away from him. That was my plan when I woke him up to ask but this felt more right.