118 - Apologize

[7:30 PM]RICH: Do u have those flight deets yet?

The question was a ‘conversation’ opener.  She had the details, but wasn’t cluttering his mind with them this far in advance.  Typically she waited until about six hours before he needed to leave for the airport, so he didn’t forget. 

Richie was an unapologetically a creative soul, harboring a deep love people and the beauty of their souls.  The minutiae that went into planning his life was beyond his meager grasp on the hard, cold reality of life.  He liked his rose-colored glasses and left those things to Denny.  It allowed him to remain happily ensconced in his altered-reality.

[7:31 PM]DENNY: Red-eye out of LAX 2morrow nite.  B there @11:30

Perfect.  She knew he preferred the red-eye so that he could sleep on the flight and hit the ground running on the East Coast.  He’d grab a quick nap, shower and breakfast, then head for Tony’s studio.

Tony’s parting words had haunted him all afternoon, forcing him to go back and analyze a dozen different interactions between himself and Denny in the past couple of years.  In particular, today’s lunch, when she’d seemed so certain about what he was searching for in life.

Unsure as to how it fit in with Denny just yet, Richie had nevertheless dug inside himself and decoded the secret message.  He was looking for somebody to love.  More than that, he was looking for somebody who would love him with the same reckless abandon that he got caught up in.  It was the only way he knew how to be – all or nothing.  That’s why things had gotten so out of hand with Petey. 

Yes.  The only missing ingredient in his perfect life was someone to share it all with.  Did Denny know that already?  What did she mean by saying it was his for the taking?

It was his plan to find out this weekend.

[7:33 PM]RICHE: Exclnt. Need another seat, plz. Taking somebody with me.

Here’s hoping this doesn’t go over like a lead balloon.

[7:34 PM]DENNY: *sigh* Who?

[7:34 PM]RICHIE: U. Can u go?

An eternity passed as he waited that next text.   It wasn’t uncommon for Richie to ask her to accompany him on a trip, and he had no reason to believe she would deny his request this time. 

[7:36 PM]DENNY: Why? I don’t have u sched for any biz in NJ/NYC.

How did he respond without a hundred percent certainty over what he was doing?  ‘I want to pick your brain’?  That wasn’t gonna fly.

Just be honest without being specific.

[7:37 PM]RICH: Cuz I want u to.  Plz.

[7:38 PM]DENNY: U don’t need me 2 hold ur hand. U & JB will b fine.  Just another bump in the road.

Logical debates weren’t really Richie’s thing, and he didn’t have a legitimate work reason that she needed to be there.  All he was a burning curiosity and the wise words of TBJ.

[7:38 PM]RICH:  Plz?

Waiting patiently, he checked his watch.  It was almost eleven in New York, but he could still catch Jon tonight if Denny would just cooperate.

[7:40 PM]DENNY: I’ll book it.

[7:40 PM]RICH: Seats together.

[7:42 PM]DENNY: K. 

After the long hesitation, he felt her affirmative response warranted the satisfaction that tipped his full lips upward. 

Don’t get too cocky.  She works for you.  She’s not gonna say no to any reasonable request.

Didn’t matter.  It still felt like he’d accomplished something.   What had he accomplished?  No idea.  But it was something, he was sure of it.

[7:42 PM]RICH: TY darlin. Xx

☠ ☢ ☠

“Oh Goddd, that feels good…” 

Not exactly the kind of lusty moans he’d expected to be bellowing tonight, but the special orthopedic mattress was nearly as good as an orgasm after the abuse his body had taken.  It swallowed (Jon snickered.  Swallowed.)  the last of his aches and pains in a whispery sigh of Egyptian cotton.  His head had quit thumping quite a while ago, and now he was waving goodbye to the rest of it.

“You like that, huh?”  Petey grinned mischievously, planting a light palm in the center of his chest and bending over the edge of the bed to kiss him.  “Should I be jealous?”

“Nope.”  A weary hand tied itself into her dark waves and prevented her escape.  “You bring a whole different kinda bliss, Sugar.  One I hate that I’m too fucking tired to go after.”

Impish blue eyes slid down to his waist – or rather the bulge under the sheets at his waist.  “You sure about that?”

“Unfortunately,” he mourned with a chuckle, urging her face closer and sucking at that tantazliing bottom lip.  “I’m horny, but the ability to make it worth your while escapes me at the moment.  Maybe in the morning…”

The low hum of speculation rattled huskily in the back of her throat, making his damn disobedient cock jerk violently. 

“How about we make out after I take my shower?” she suggested, sliding an exploratory hand down low on his abdomen.  “Then, when you get tired of kissing me…”  A soft, wet swipe of her tongue dampened his lips.  “I’ll see if I can’t find something else to do with my mouth.”

Oh yeah.

With a saucy grin, she drew upright, but he prevented her departure with a restraining hand on her forearm.  “Just for record…”  He adopted what he considered a smoldering gaze and locked into her eyes with it.  “I’m not happy about you being the woman to screw and the woman to marry.  I’m fucking ecstatic.”

Her light giggle wafted through the bedroom as she sashayed away.  That little wench was putting an extra swing to her hips that made him shift his own restlessly.

Petey Diehl was the ultimate personification of sex.  No doubt in his mind.  At his age, Jon shouldn’t be able to get it up this often, but with her…?  Well, she could probably get him off from the other room.

That was only a slight exaggeration.

His attention was forcibly pulled from his mounting frustration by the vibration on the bedside table.  Palming the phone, he brought it around so that he could see the screen.  The muscles in his face contorted it into an ugly frown.

What does he want?

“Yeah?”

No, his greeting didn’t contain the warmth and hospitality of a mint julep on Derby Day, but it wasn’t all that much more detached than usual.  Probably.  At least he didn’t think so.

“That’s about what I expected,” Richie sighed.  “And it’s fair, but before you decide to tell me to fuck myself and hang up, could you at least listen to my apology?”

The knot in Jon’s chest, that he hadn’t bothered to acknowledge at any point during the last two days, took its first step toward unraveling.  “If you don’t dick around all night with it, maybe.”

It was fucked up how a mildly condescending laugh could go so far toward to restoring order in the JBJ universe.    Under normal circumstances, he could go weeks without talking to Richie and not think a thing about it, but Jon could admit – at least to himself – that the last couple of days seemed awfully damn long.

Last couple days?  Things haven’t been good between the two of you since New Year’s.

“Look, I’m sorry, bro," Richie interrupted the thought.  "I had it in my head that standing on my morals might protect the two of you from some kinda heartache around the bend.  Problem is… I realize now that love doesn’t follow rules, it’s the only rule you have to follow.”

Jon didn’t have a reply to that.  It was one of those psychological paradoxes that Richie loved to get tangled up in and he wasn’t up to plumbing its depths.  “Mm.”

“I wish you wouldn’t be that way,” the guitarist sighed.  “But it doesn’t surprise me.  I haven’t paid the requisite pound of flesh yet.”

“Don’t put this off on me because I’m not pissing all over your foot like an excited puppy.  You may not be surprised, but I sure as hell was when my best friend refused to stand at – or attend – my wedding.” 

Up to that point, Jon had been consciously blasé about the call, unsure as to how the whole thing would play out.  That ‘pound of flesh’ thing hit him the wrong way, though.  He’d be damned if Richie was going to paint him as the bad guy this time around.  Jon flat-out refused to accept that rap when all he’d done was fall in love.

 “I’m sorry,” was the quietly contrite reply that found his ears after a moment’s silence.  “You’re right.  I’m screwing this up.”  Richie cleared his throat.  “Turns out I was jealous because you got what I’ve been missing – a woman to stand by your side and believe in you.  Petey’s incredible, Jon.  Such a sweetheart, but with enough spunk to keep your ass in line.  You’re lucky to have found her.”

“You don’t think I know that?  Who gets this lucky twice in a lifetime?  I get that I don’t deserve her, but I stupidly still expected you to be pleased for me.”

“No.  That’s not true,” Richie contracted.  “I should’ve never said that, because you do deserve her.  You deserve to be happy.  I… always want you to be happy – you know that.  I’m sorry my own self-pity got in the way of that for a little while.  Is that wedding invitation still open?”

“I dunno…”  A smile snuck across his face, and Jon felt worlds better than he had just a little while ago.  “This is a pretty exclusive gig and Bono’s been asking about your seat.”

“That Irish prick can step the fuck off,” Richie snorted.  “If I’m giving up my seat it oughta be to somebody bigger than that.”

Jon laughed outright.  Their standing ‘feud’ with U2 had been going on for years.  They bashed Bono and his guys every chance they got, and he was pretty sure the favor was returned on a regular basis.  “Yeah, well he’s a little too arrogant for my taste anyway.  Seat’s still yours if you want it.”

“And is there another seat next to it?  ‘Cause I was gonna bring Denny, if that’s cool.”

Twisting in the sheets and bending his knee into a more comfortable position, Jon frowned thoughtfully.  Denny, huh?  ‘Bout fuckin’ time.

“So that’s why you wanna come,” he drawled with contrived understanding.  “You’ve got fuckin’ business in the city and I’m a convenient stopover.”

 “I got no business other than holding your hand when you start to sweat this thing.”

“Oh?  Then why ya bringin’ Denny?”  Screw the people who said he couldn’t act.  He could play innocent with the best of ‘em.

“I just am.  Who did you get to fill my spot as best man?”

Jon laughed silently, watching Petey’s perfectly little body bounce in her bed-time tank and panties as she re-entered the room.  Her hair was all fluffy and soft looking from the blow-dryer.  He itched to feel it trailing across his thighs.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to remember what he was supposed to be doing. 

Oh yeah. 

If Rich wasn’t ready to come clean yet, he could play along.

“Who are you talking to?” Petey whispered, crawling into bed beside him.

Extending an arm in invitation, he waited for her to curl into its crook before murmuring, “Richie.”

Her smile was beyond smug, it was downright cocky.  Conceited shouldn’t look so good on a little girl.  “Black suit and shirt.”

He pinched her impertinent ass and redirected his attention to Richie.  “Nobody filled your spot.  Petey says to bring a black suit and shirt, she’s got your tie.”

“She does, huh?  She knew I’d cave?”

“Yeah, man.  She’s a genius.  She knows shit.”

Between the soft woman draped against him, her wicked laugh jostling his ribcage and the return of his best friend, Jon was feeling pretty damn good.  That whole near-death experience was only a vague and distant memory.

He was more interested in the immediate future, where he planned to catch up with his buddy for a few more minutes, let his fingers do the walking between Petey’s legs until she screamed, shamelessly beg for a blow and then fall into a temporary coma so he could wake up and nail her properly with his morning wood.

All while blatantly ignoring the fact that her mother is in the house.

A perfect plan could sometimes be as good as an orgasm.