Vice, Virtue & Video, page 20
“Oh, Brenda’s real good,” he nods. “She’s volunteering for the recycling charity, doing their books for free and the library said they’re going to put one of her big paintings in the entry way by the stairs.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” I smile. James’ mom is an accountant and she handles all the finances for the landscaping company, but she’s always wanted to be an artist and she’s actually quite good.
“And Jonathan is great,” he says with a proud smile. “He just sold a place up here on 7th street for almost a million.”
“Wow!” I grin.
“He and Lisa are doing real well,” he nods. “She wants to start making jewelry, so he’s helping her set up a little business doing that.”
“How nice for her,” I say sweetly.
“Well, what am I doing making you stand out here like this?” he says, shaking his head. “Come on in, honey, we can sit down and catch up.”
I smile and follow him into the house.
James’ mom and dad’s house is a little older than the house I grew up in, mostly because my dad had money when my parents moved in and my mom kept the place in the divorce. James’ family didn’t come from money and they moved to our neighborhood from the cheaper part of the suburbs. His dad had bought the place when it was kind of rundown and fixed it up himself with the same group of guys who worked for the landscaping business. Jon is a self-made man, the kind of guy who believes in the honor of a hard day’s work. That's probably why he likes me so much. I was always an A+ student, always finished my homework on time and did extra credit. I had a good work ethic … unlike a certain charismatic boy with the body of a Greek god.
As we go into the house, I’m struck by the pictures on the wall—or lack there of. James told me a long time ago that his dad had taken down every single photograph of him, but I thought he was exaggerating. There isn’t as much as a wallet-sized picture of James in sight. It’s kind of unsettling and I feel bad that James’ career has essentially cost him his family. Now it’s indirectly cost him my friendship, too.
I sit down with James’ dad on the back porch sipping coffee as he asks me about my life. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him and it makes me feel cozy to be here in James’ house shooting the shit with his dad. It reminds me of growing up, of the time before James’ dick was on every porn site on the internet, before double-crossing friends and fucked up ex-dominatrixes who are now in possession of a very private video of me. For a second, I feel like a kid again, like my future is all out in front of me and I’m not tied down with any grown-up issues.
Jon is very cordial and friendly and he tells me to feel free to join him and Brenda for dinner any night I choose.
I shuffle back to my empty house and curl up on my squeaky metal bed. I pull my old floral duvet over my head and opt to try sleeping my blues away.
It’s late afternoon when I’m startled awake by the doorbell. I assume it’s Jon coming to check on me and invite me to dinner with him and Brenda, so I pop on my yoga pants, run my fingers through my disheveled hair as I go to answer the door.
I swing the door open and my jaw drops.
Standing on my doorstep looking a bit disheveled in worn out black jeans and a white, deep v-neck shirt that reveals a delicious peek at those finely sculpted pecs is James motherfuckin’ Laird.
Chapter 22 - James
Lola quickly attempts to slam the door in my face, but I push it back open and step inside the house.
“Lo, please, please let me just try to explain,” I say, my words coming out all gravely from how much I cried on the drive here.
She turns her back to me and walks down the hallway. I close the door and follow her every step of the way. She won’t look at me, won’t talk to me, won’t even acknowledge me. She goes straight to her bedroom and I stop in the doorway when she climbs back into the bed and buries herself under the covers. She sniffles and I can see her shoulders shaking a little. She’s crying and I feel like such a fucking asshole!
“Lo, baby, I’m so sorry,” I say softly as I go to her and rest my hand on her over the blanket.
“Go away, James,” she croaks between sniffles.
“I can’t, Lola,” I say, rubbing her shoulder as she continues to cry under the shield of the sheets. “I’m not leaving until I get a chance to talk to you.”
She sniffles and she peeks her head out from under the comforter. “How did you know I was here?”
Just seeing her face—even though it’s all streaked with tears—makes me feel calm and happy. I reach out to touch her and she pulls back like she’s disgusted by me. The thought is agonizing and it's like she just kicked me in the chest with one of her size six stilettos.
“Savannah Slade told me,” I reply. Her eyes get wide and she looks completely surprised by that answer.
“You talked to Stacey?” she says, her sadness turning to amusement for a quick second
“Yeah,” I nod. “I called you, like, 300 times. I probably sent you 1,000 texts, but you didn’t answer. I Facebooked you, I even tried putting a note under your door. I was really freaking out, baby, because Eva has made all these threats and I was worried that she'd kidnapped you or something. I remembered you saying that you talked to Savannah, so I tracked her down and asked her and she said you went back home.”
“You didn’t scare her or intimidate her into telling you, did you?” she snaps. It hurts me that she thinks I would do that, but she knows how I can get when I’m really worried, especially if it’s something that involves her.
“No, no way,” I reply, softly rubbing her shoulder over the sheets. She’s letting me touch her and she isn’t shrinking away from me, which has to be a good sign. “I told her that I really fucked up and she understood, so she told me where you were and that I should go tell you how sorry I am.”
Lola’s lips curve into a smile, albeit a very slight one.
“You basically saved that girl’s life,” I praise. It’s true. Stacey—as Lola calls her—was a fuckin’ wreck when I first met her, but when I saw her a couple days ago, she seemed so much more confident and alive. Lola can always put a spring in your step, so I’m not surprised.
“She told me you said I was like and angel,” she sniffles.
“I did say that,” I nod. “Lola, you are like an angel to me. What I did to you was inexcusable. I can’t defend it. All I can try to do is explain it. I was in a fucked up situation, I thought I could get out of it without having to hurt anybody, I realized in the middle of things that it was super fucked up to tape you like that, so I stopped. I felt like a total dick when I told you to go, and I really felt horrible when you found out about the video.”
She sits up, looking right in my eyes as I talk. She’s really listening to me and I’m going to seize this opportunity while I have her full attention.
“Lola,” I say, reaching out to hold her hand. She lets me. “I am completely fuckin’ in love with you.”
Her lips twitch just a little bit and I can tell she’s forcing herself not to smile. That’s a very good thing. It means that maybe she could forgive me. Maybe, just maybe, she still loves me too.
“I thought about it a lot on the drive here and I’ve been in love with you since I was nine fuckin’ years old,” I continue to confess. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You’re kind, you’re smart, you’re funny, you’re generous, you’re all the things I wish I was and I fuckin’ admire you, dude!”
Now she can’t help it, she smiles just a teeny tiny bit.
“When I kissed you, that was the single most intimate thing I’ve ever done in my life,” I admit. I’m really letting it all go tonight because, even if she never talks to me again, I just have to make sure she knows. “I’ve never been in love before and I have no idea what you’re supposed to do and how you’re supposed to handle things. This emotion has been a really weird one for me because I’m used to getting physical, but I’m not used to anything real—anything that feels all intimate and deep like this. I need you so bad, Lo. Not having you around, not being able to see your face ... it's been like torture for me. You're like the air in my lungs and I need you to survive.”
She’s listening closely and I’m locking eyes with her. No matter how vulnerable I feel right now, I can’t stop.
“That night when I recorded us—which was totally fucked up and I’m so fuckin’ sorry that I can't even begin to describe it—but that night felt so weird to me and I kind of freaked out. I’ve never, like, actually ‘made love’ to anyone before, but that’s what I wanted to do with you. Fuck, I could have stayed there and just kissed you and it would have been the best night of my life.” I sniffle and I can feel my eyes welling up. “But I fucked it up, Lola. I fucked it up so bad and I’m so, so sorry!”
She watches me cry for a moment before she reaches over and hands me a box of tissues. Christ! I’m a fuckin’ wreck right now, just one giant raw nerve.
“I was so scared, Lo,” I continue. “Eva kept threatening me, and that was bad, but then she told me she’d go after you if I didn’t do it. She was saying she’d do horrible things to you, have her guys do horrible things to you. I had to protect you, but I didn’t know what to do because I didn’t want to put you on tape like that. She just kept giving me these threats. The thought of anyone hurting you, defiling you like that … I just panicked and I tried to do whatever I could to stop it.”
She seems to be lightening up, but it’s hard to tell because she won’t say anything back to me.
“I didn’t think, baby,” I say, clearing my throat as I try to will my tears to stop. I hate crying in front of Lola because it makes reminds me of that awful weekend when my parents disowned me. “I do it on camera all the time and I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal, I even went through all these precautions so that your face wouldn’t be in it, but I completely failed to realize how fucked up it was in the first place.” I’m practically shivering with fear right now. I’m just terrified she’ll turn me away. Without her, I really don’t know how I’d go on. I can’t even imagine my life without Lola in it.
I pause for a second and reach into my pocket. I pull out a small, blue, SD memory card and hand it to her like it’s a ritual sacrifice.
“How?” she asks, knowing immediately what’s on the card.
“Stacey gave it to me,” I say with an apologetic smile.
Lola nods like she’s proud of Stacey. She should be. That girl’s come a long way and even I was impressed with her loyalty to my beautiful, sweet, precious, heartbroken angel.
“Lola, I can’t live without you,” I summarize. “I love you. I really love you with every fuckin’ shred of my being. I swear to you, I will never hurt you again for the rest of my life. I fuckin’ hate myself for being the one who made you cry, baby, for cutting you deep like that, and I swear on my fuckin’ life I will never, ever, ever do anything to make you cry again.” My voice sounds all desperate. My words are rushed and frantic. I’m completely afraid that I’ll put all this out there and she’ll tell me it’s too late, that I fucked up too bad and she can’t ever forgive me.
It seems like a year before she responds. “Ok,” is all she says. There’s a finality to it and, for a split second, I feel like all my fears have come to life and she’s telling me ok, meaning “ok, it’s over.”
She sits up in her bed and she kisses me. I’ve never been more surprised or elated! I wrap my arms around her and kiss her like I can transmit all my emotions through my lips. This kiss is so powerful and meaningful to both of us.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” I say, my voice cracking as I hold her face and look into her eyes.
“I know,” she smiles and kisses me again.
“I love you so much, Lola. So much,” I say in a breathless whisper before I kiss her, brushing my thumb along her jaw and tracing my other hand down her shoulder.
I almost can’t believe what she does next. She kisses me really softly, looks right in my eyes, and pulls her shirt off.
I am ravenous for her, but this craving goes way beyond the sexual variety. I missed her. Jesus Christ! I missed her so much! I feel like I can’t be close enough to her. I want to touch every part of her, to kiss every square inch of her skin, to look in her eyes and show her just how much I love and appreciate her.
Her little fingers pull at the bottom of my t-shirt and I take it off. I keep looking in her eyes and wondering if she’s going to suddenly change her mind and kick me the fuck out of her house, but this is real. It’s legit. The only emotion I can see in her face is love. And I couldn’t possibly be happier about it.
She unbuttons my jeans and I stand to slide them off. She reclines back on the bed and nods for me to take my boxer briefs off too. I swallow hard. I’m nervous. I’m actually nervous to get naked in front of a girl—a girl who’s seen me naked a zillion times and who I nearly had sex with a few days ago. I think I’m scared because it’s not just my clothes I’m taking off. I’m dropping every little wall that I’ve built up over my entire life. My whole persona is being stripped away and I feel totally raw and exposed standing here in front of her and praying that she really does love me.
She pushes back the sheets and she calls me over to her. I kneel on the bed in front of her and I cautiously look in her eyes. I reach out and she raises her hips so I can I slide her yoga pants down her gorgeous legs. I’m looking at her, my eyes scanning every inch of her body with appreciation. Lola is beautiful, Lola has always been beautiful and Lola will always be beautiful because Lola is the love of my life.
“Are you sure?” I whisper to her.
She softly kisses me in response before whispering, “Yes.”
I reach for my jeans on the floor and fish a condom out of my pocket. I always carry at least one with me and I have since I was about 14 years old. When you fuck as much as I do, being prepared like this just becomes a habit.
“Seriously, Lo,” I say as I roll the condom on, making sure to really look in her eyes, “are you totally sure?”
“Yes, James,” she smiles.
“You’re a hundred percent sure?” I whisper to her as I lean over her.
“Yes!” she giggles. She seems pretty amused with my precautions, but she knows this is just as big of a deal for me as it is for her.
I tenderly kiss her as I lower myself against her body. Her skin’s like warm silk beneath me. She opens her legs to me until they’re up against my sides. This is going to happen and I’m shaking like a fuckin’ leaf at the idea. I’ve never had sex that felt so important. This might be the most significant moment of my life.
“I love you, Lo,” I whisper as I look in her eyes.
“I love you too, James,” she softly replies before she gives me a sweet, soft kiss. I'm in heaven, man, pure fuckin' heaven.
I lower myself onto my elbows so I can get even closer to her. My fingers reach out and caress her face, my thumb brushing over her full, pouty bottom lip. I gently hold the back of her neck and tilt her head up very slightly so I can kiss her. Her arms wrap around me and I feel her delicate hands running up my shoulders until her fingers are brushing into my hair at the back of my neck. We hold each other as we kiss and it feels really profound.
“You ready?” I softly ask as I stare into her beautiful eyes.
“Yes,” she whispers with a nod.
I swallow hard and take a deep breath. I’ve never been more nervous to have sex. This is different from all those other girls. This is meaningful and intimate. This is Lola. This is love.
Her eyes are hooded with lust as I reach down and rub myself over her clit a few times before I gradually inch down towards her entrance. Now’s the scary part. I know I’m big, I know she’s tight, and the last thing I want to do is hurt her, but there’s no getting around it in this particular situation.
“I’m gonna go slow,” I whisper against her lips as I begin to enter her.
She’s tight. So tight. I’m watching her face as she starts to take me and she looks really into it, like she's totally wrapped up in the moment. Her lips are parted a little bit and her breathing is deep. I gently inch in just a little more and I catch a quick glint of discomfort, which is almost enough to make me panic.
“Are you ok?” I softly ask her. I know she can feel my muscles shaking with how hard I’m trying to hold back.
“Yes,” she smiles as she looks into my eyes, “It feels really good, James. Keep going.”
I’m moving like I’m in super slow-mo as I proceed a little more, millimeter by millimeter, inch by inch. Finally, she closes her eyes and her brow furrows for a split second. She makes a tiny gasp when I’ve filled her. I’m not sure if it’s from pain or surprise, but I pause what I’m doing and give her some time to adjust.
I’m placing soft but passionate kisses on her lips as I hold myself still on top of her. My heart is racing and my head is spinning with the impact of what’s just happened. I’m inside her. Lola just gave me her virginity. She chose me. I'm the one.
“Are you alright, baby?” I ask and even I can hear my shaking voice as I do everything I can to keep from moving too much.
She nods and gives me a loving smile.
“I love you,” I whisper against her lips as I withdraw just a little.
I watch her face again for any pain as I gently move forward. At first, it seems like it hurts a little bit, but she quickly closes her eyes and her sweet, soft, light little moans kick in like the overture to some angelic symphony. I keep the tempo slow, telling her that I love her with each of these small, gradual strokes.
I brush my nose along hers and then touch our foreheads together as I continue, slowly working up to a steady pace. I can’t stop looking in her eyes. Sure, I might pause to kiss her lips or her neck a few times, but I’m always drawn back to those gorgeous eyes as she experiences this monumental event with me. This is the most beautiful moment of my fuckin' life!
She starts making her small, staccato gasps and I feel her starting to quiver inside. Soon, the whimpers kick in and she explodes around me in rapid pulses and contractions. It takes everything in me to keep from losing my shit entirely.
