2:30 AM 

Justin’s eyes popped open and he looked around the clean, elegantly decorated master suite. He rubbed his eyes and looked over at Aubrey, who was sleeping soundly curled up next to him. He peeled back the luxe brocade duvet and kissed her on the forehead. 

“Aubrey,” he whispered in complete darkness, “Aubrey.” 

She stirred and blinked a few times, then opened her eyes. He looked her up and down. She was clad in a tissue paper thin lime green tank top and black lace boy shorts, her hair messy and cascading all around her. “Are you leaving?” 

He nodded, “I gotta be in the studio at ten. I’ll call you later.” 

She frowned, “Stay. Can’t you stay?” 

“I have to go home,” he said, “I have to sleep or else I’m not going to function at all tomorrow.”  

She ran a hand over her face, “Okay. Do you want me to walk you down to your car.” 

“No.” he said, “it’s okay. Go to sleep, honey. I’ll talk to you later.” 

“Okay,” she yawned, “Wait, give me a kiss.” 

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her on the lips. She latched her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her.  

She usually wasn’t a very persuasive or demanding person, but when she wanted to be, Aubrey Roehm got exactly what she wanted every single time. 

 

 

 

10:34 AM 

“You look kind of trashed.” 

“Uh, I am.” 

“Long night, my friend?” 

“Not necessarily long…just…” he paused, “I slept but…not in my own bed. It was weird.” 

JC rolled his eyes, “You're weird.” 

“I was walking out the door at two thirty this morning…and when I went to kiss Aubrey good bye….I just never ended up leaving.” He said. 

“Jeez. Did you guys finally do it?” 

“Um, no,” he said tiredly, “not yet.” 

“This is taking way too long.” 

“Kind of, but…I think it will be extremely worth it,” he said, “and it’s really interesting to be in a relationship devoid of sex and all the shit that comes with it.” 

JC shrugged, “If you say so. You want me to go get you a coffee or something?” 

“I’m good – I had a latte on the way here,” he said, “Alright…well…fuck this. I can't work today.” 

“Studio time, hello?” 

He rolled his eyes, “I’m not doing this today.” 

“Alright, well I’m gonna stay and mix.” 

“Knock your lights out, buddy,” he said, “but today you are not getting me to sing, write or play anything but a lullaby to put myself to sleep.” 

JC shrugged, “It ain't my fault you're weak and couldn’t walk out the door of your girl’s apartment at two thirty this morning.” 

“It isn't my fault my girlfriend is ridiculously hot and sexy,” he argued, “at the time…spending the night with said girlfriend sounded a hell of a lot better than chilling out in my own bed at home, alone.” 

“Alright, point proven.” JC said, “Are you going out tonight?” 

“No…I have to work, cause I told Aubrey I was working instead of going to this ballet thing with her...” he said, "so I’m like obligated to work. I may come back later after I rest up, get some food or something.” 

“Alright, well me and Emma are going out,” JC said, running a hand through his dark brown shaggy hair, “You're more than welcome to join us.” 

“I can’t – I already had to cancel Maine on Aubrey, and if she finds out that I’m partying instead of working…it will be one more crappy argument,” he said, “and I hate arguing, so…I’m gonna go.” 

“Okay,” JC said, “You're so whipped. It’s kind of disgusting.” 

“You're kind of disgusting,” he fired back, his voice sounding jaded and groggy. “Hug it out.” 

JC embraced his friend, patting him on the back, “You're a bitch when you don't sleep. Go home, punk.” 

“I am.” He muttered, grabbing his cell phone off the soundboard and exiting. He got in the elevator and then stepped out from the lobby onto the street. He got into his car and drove home. 

As soon as he got home, he peeled off all his clothes and crawled into bed after closing all the blinds so that his room could be as dark as possible in mid morning sunlight.  

As soon as his head hit the pillow, he thought about Aubrey then drifted off to sleep.  

 

 

 

 

Emma’s sky high black Gucci heels echoed on the floor as she walked down the cement hallway. She hated how dinghy his apartment building was; cold, bare walls and worse of all, no doorman. She felt humiliated every time she went to see him, which lately, had been a rare occurrence. 

Her manicured hand rapped lightly on the door. He answered a moment later, unshaven and dirty. 

She rolled her eyes and walked right in, “I hope you don't plan on going out the house like that.” 

“Hello, Emma. It’s nice to see you, too. I’m good.” 

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Please come out with us.” 

He crossed his arms over his heather gray pima cotton tee shirt and said nothing. 

“It’s okay, you know. Aubrey goes to the ballet with her parents, anyway. She isn't going to give two shits if you go out with me and Jayce.” 

He sighed, “I’m not in the mood to go out.” 

“We’re just gonna hit a bar for a drink or three, then go to Table 50 for tonight’s chosen entertainment, but I was telling Jayce I kinda wanted to go to this club in Brooklyn…mix it up a little bit, you know.” 

He blinked and sat down on his ridiculously masculine, yet comfortable brown suede sectional couch. “Brooklyn?” 

“Yeah,” she said, “What’s wrong with Brooklyn? You're not even from here and you're being a Borough Snob? I don't think so.” 

He rolled his eyes, “I’ll go with you.” 

“Good,” she said gleefully, “Spoon is at Table 50; they kick severe ass.” 

He nodded solidly, “Yeah they do.” 

“Okay, so…go shave your mug, put on some decent clothes…let’s go. JC said he’d be here in thirty.” 

“What if I’d said no?” 

“You wouldn’t have said no,” she said confidently, “You’ve never told me no, at least that I can soberly remember, anyway.” 

He sighed and hoisted himself off of the couch, “Hey, I have a question.” 

“Ask, honey.” 

He blinked, “Is it normal for some one to put, like, a lot of lingerie in the wash?” 

She laughed loudly, “You had a laundry date!” 

“Maybe?” 

She giggled, “Hah…! Oh, honey. Oh man. For a laundry date, it’s as normal as it gets.” 

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he protested. 

“Doesn’t Aubrey have the most beautiful lingerie?” Emma said, “I’m so jealous. She takes ridiculous pride in underwear.” 

He laughed at the randomness of her comment, “Okay.” 

“Wait, you guys are going to Maine this weekend, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh.” Emma said slowly, a grin spread across her face.  

“What is that Oh for?” 

“It’s just a pivotal Oh,” she said, “Listen, JC told me you guys haven't exactly gone all the way—“ 

“Jesus Christ,” he said, peeling off his tee shirt in his bedroom, the door wide open, “What else did JC tell you?” 

“That you and your ex girlfriend…shit, what was her name?” 

“Anna K?” 

“Yes, the artist. Well he told she was such a bitchmaster, but he said you guys had insane sex, so…” She giggled, “Anyway, you really haven't done it with Aub yet?” 

“No.” he said, “Isn't there such a thing as privacy any more?” 

“Of course not. Don't be ridiculous,” she said, “What are you going to wear?” 

He stood in the doorway, holding up two shirts. 

“The gray tee shirt…the heather will bring out your eyes.” 

“So why did I change?” He asked, “I was wearing a more worn in version of this shirt when you got here.” 

She giggled, “Whatever. Whoa!” 

He returned to the doorway with raised eyebrows. 

“Does Aubrey know how many tattoos you have, J-Man?” 

“I don't know. Why?” 

“She’s never dated a guy with any tattoos.” 

“Honestly?” 

“So honest,” Emma confirmed, “She’s had to have seen them. It’s shorts weather for God’s sake…you have like three on your legs, don't you?” 

He nodded, “Yeah.” 

“She’s going to freak the hell out,” Emma said, “but in a good, new and different way. You know what I mean?” 

“Sure…?” 

“I’m here.” JC announced as he entered the mid sized apartment, “Hi baby.” 

Emma smiled as JC leaned down to kiss her, “Hi sexy.” 

“If you two are going to go at it all night long, I’m not going out with you.” Justin called from his bedroom. “I mean it.” 

“We’ll be tame…” JC replied, “How’d you get him to go out?” 

“I don't know,” Emma said, wondering herself. “But then again he caves easily.” 

“True.” 

“He feels his privacy has been invaded.” Emma reported, “Because apparently I wasn’t supposed to bring up the fact that him and A-Girl haven't done it yet.” 

“Ooh, yeah, that’s a sensitive sub…but then again didn’t you practically bring them together?” 

“I didn’t think of it like that,” Emma said, “But good point, honey. They met at my party…and I told Justin beforehand how he totally had to meet her. But I didn’t technically introduce them, but who cares…I practically set them up.” 

“Of course you did,” he replied, “Justin, come on, you don't need to dress to impress your girlfriend is having a grand ole time at the freaking ballet.” 

“She’s so cultured like that,” said Emma dramatically, “her mother donates every year to the American Ballet…they have box seats.” 

“Ooh, very classy.” JC said. “Honestly, though, Timbers.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Justin muttered, stuffing his wallet in his back pocket as he came out of his bedroom, “I’m ready. Let’s go.” 

“Finally,” Emma sighed, “took long enough.” 

Justin rolled his eyes and locked his door before following Emma and JC down to the street where the entourage’s black SUV sat. 

 

 

 

“Something’s different about you.” 

Aubrey gave her father a crooked smile as she sipped her champagne at dinner after the ballet. 

“Before your mother gets back from the bathroom, tell me what’s going on so she doesn’t freak out.” 

Aubrey giggled, “I met some one.” 

“Did you?” 

“Yeah.” She said simply, “And I think it’s really something good. Something really, really, really good.” 

“That’s good, honey.” He said gently. Stephen Roehm loved his daughter dearly, although he had wanted a boy for the majority of his marriage. “When can I meet him?” 

She raised her eyebrows, “You want to meet him?” 

“Well if you think it’s serious enough, of course I want to meet him.” He told her emphatically. 

She bit her lip, “Well he’s coming with me to the ABC Gala in a couple of weeks – you’ll probably meet him then.” 

“I’m not waiting a lousy two weeks, Aubrey Mischa. Bring him by the estate in the Hamptons this weekend.” 

“No, I can’t.” she declined, “We’re going to Kennebunkport.” 

“Are you?” 

She nodded, “He owes me…he had to cancel the first time, so…we’re going.” 

He nodded slowly as Felicity approached the table, wearing a slimming red silk Ralph Lauren dress. She sat down and all conversation stopped. 

“I have no idea what to order,” Felicity confessed, opening the menu, “Aubrey, darling, what are you going to get?” 

“Probably the lamb,” she replied, sounding blasé as ever. Stephen cracked a smile. 

“Aubrey’s met a boy.” 

Felicity looked up from her menu and stared at her daughter, “Have you, now?” 

Aubrey nodded slowly, sipping her champagne, “Mother, please. Don't say anything when you haven't even met him yet.” 

“Okay, so then bring him to the estate this weekend.” 

“I’m going to Kennebunkport this weekend,” she said, fully expecting her mother to come back with some rash remark about something relating to her having broken up with Chad. In her mother’s eyes, that was stupidest mistake her daughter could have ever made. 

“With?” 

“Justin.” She replied, “Maybe next weekend.” 

Felicity rolled her eyes. 

“Mother,” she said, “Don't roll your eyes like that…I know exactly what you're thinking.” 

“Do you, now, Aubrey?” 

“Yes. You're think, oh no, here we go again. I hope she doesn’t get engaged to this one then break it off a month before the wedding. Wait, I hope I even like this guy; he isn't Chad, so it’s doubtful that I will like him.” 

Felicity blinked and sipped her white wine, “You know the Monroe family have been close friends of ours for ages, how can we not be upset you didn’t marry him, Aubrey?” 

“You should be happy I didn’t ruin my life,” she objected, “don't be upset that I didn’t go through with it; be glad I’m not wining to you about being unhappy in a marriage I never wanted.” 

Stephen looked at his only daughter and patted her hand soothingly, “We should order. Waiter…” 

“Aubrey, I was only so set on you marrying him because he’s good for you. He’s a good man. And for you not to see that—“ 

“I saw it, mother.” 

“I just want what is best for my daughter. What is so wrong with that?” 

“Well, the way you go about doing it, everything.” 

“I think I’m going to have the foie gras.” Stephen commented through their bickering. 

“And I suppose this new guy…he’s nothing like Chad, right? Are you in the stage where you totally rebel against the parents who have loved and nurtured you, given you all the privileges in the world? Is that what this phase is?” 

“No.” She denied, “This is the phase where I finally forget about what you want and start living my own life. I didn’t love Chad, Mother.” 

“Oh, but you love this new boyfriend of yours?” 

“Maybe.” She said. She hadn't planned on letting that slip so readily – what frightened her was that she barely thought about it before speaking.  

“I see.” Felicity said. 

“Waiter, finally.” Stephen said graciously, “I’ll have the foie gras…darling, what would you like?” 

Aubrey turned to her father and willed a smile, “May I have the leg of lamb, please? Rare, and light on the mint jelly, please.” 

“And for you, Ma’am?” 

“I'll have the foie gras as well.” 

Stephen stared at his wife and daughter, “This is truly ridiculous.” 

Aubrey looked at her mother, “Yes, isn't it?” 

Dinner passed with mostly Aubrey and her father conversing among themselves. After desert and cognac, Aubrey got into her chauffeured car and headed towards home. As she sat in the backseat of the car, she took out her cell phone and dialed. 

“Hello?” 

She held the phone slightly away from her ear, as he was practically yelling. “Hi. It’s me.” 

“Hey, hold on one second, okay?” He must have gone outside, because the loudness ceased, “Hi. Sorry about that. How was the ballet, honey?” 

“Oh, beautiful, with the exception of dinner afterwards…my mother and I got into it, but what else is new about that.” She said simply, “Listen, I’m on my way home right now, why don't you come by?” 

“Okay,” he said all too quickly, “I’m actually at this ridiculous club in Brooklyn…I don't know how the hell I was dragged here in the first place. But um let me find my bodyguard and I will try to be there in like…I don't know, twenty or thirty minutes. Is this a sleepover?” 

“Obviously.” 

He laughed, “Okay, well…I’ll stop off at home and grab some stuff. I’ll call you when I’m close.” 

“Okay,” she said pleasantly, “I can't wait to see you.” 

He grinned, “Likewise, baby. See you soon.” 

 

 

He snapped the phone shut and went back inside the smoky and crowded club. He went up to JC and his bodyguard for the night, Tiny. 

“Tiny, take me to Aubrey’s.” 

“Jesus, now you answer to booty calls?” 

“No, there’s something different about this call,” he stated to them simply, “Tiny, will you freaking take me to Aubrey’s?” 

“Yeah, hold your horses, kid.” Tiny replied, finishing his glass of water. Tiny, by no means, was actually tiny. He was a big, burly black dude with a bald head and cool attitude. He kept every one in line.  

They went out to the tinted SUV through the back door. Within five minutes they were crossing the Brooklyn Bridge, and within in two more he was running up to his shacky apartment to grab some clothes, because he couldn’t stand wearing last night’s clothes the next day. He liked how often he slept over at Aubrey’s or how often she slept over at his apartment; it was being normal. 

He stuffed a pair of Abercrombie madras shorts and a light yellow polo in a bag, threw in some cologne, deodorant; all the essentials he used for traveling. He fed his dog, gave him a pat on the head with a smile then jetted out the door. 

By midnight and a half, he was well on his way to the Park Avenue haven of Aubrey Roehm. He gave a nod to the doorman after telling Tiny good bye and headed upstairs. He placed a soft knock on Aubrey’s door and she opened a moment later, clad in a short lilac silk kimono, bare foot, sans make up and heels. He took the time to admire how tall she was without heels; at least five seven or five eight, if you rounded up. 

“Hi.” He whispered to her, throwing his bag on the couch in the living room as he kissed her on the lips. 

She smiled, “Hi. Took you long enough to get here.” 

“Brooklyn to Manhattan is no easy trek,” he defended. 

“Yuck – what were you doing in Brooklyn?” 

“Your insane friend and my insane friend decided to switch things up a bit and go to some jazz-neo-soul-punk club in Williamsburg.” 

Aubrey sighed, “That is very unfortunate.” 

“Yeah, Brooklyn…tell me about it.” He replied knowingly, his hands on her hips, “Do you wanna open a bottle of wine or something?” 

She shook her head slowly. “I drank with dinner…probably an entire bottle of red all by myself. I drank my father under the table tonight.” 

He chuckled, running his hands though her perfectly tended to hair, “Nice.” 

She smiled and slipped her hand in the back pocket of his low slung Diesel jeans, “You're so skinny.” 

“I know,” he said, “I got chicken legs; that’s what my mama says.” 

She giggled and pecked him on the lips, “I don't know, do you want to open a bottle of wine?” 

He shrugged, “Your call. I had, like, four mojitos.”  

“Ooh, mojitos. That sounds good.” she replied, “Was Emma plastered?” 

He laughed, “Like only Emma can be, of course.” 

She smiled. The small talk wasn’t going to last them forever, and she wasn’t about to get plastered if they did end up having sex. So she did what she would do in any unsure situation as such, well involving him anyway: she kissed him. 

He knew that was a definite cue to shut up, and frankly, he thought small talk was bullshit anyway and loathed it, but not with her. He kicked off his flip flops and wondered why the hell they were still in her living room – it wasn’t difficult to kiss and walk at the same time, nor was it difficult to strip, kiss and walk at the same time, either. 

She pulled back after pecking him on the lips one more time, then grabbed his hand and led him to her bedroom. This wasn’t really a new or different situation for them; he’d been in her room a million times, slept in her bed a million and one times. But this time was most likely going to be different than all other times prior. The room was dark and the furniture was barely outlined. 

“Ow! Shit!” He yelped, having stubbed his toe on the base of her massive four posted bed. She pulled back and cracked a smile. 

“Are you okay?” She asked, laughing. 

“I’m good, I’m good.” he assured with a carefree cackle, returning to her lips. “Have I mentioned just how crazy I am about you, Aubrey?” 

“I don't think so,” she smiled as he kissed her neck, “but I think you just did.” 

He chuckled as she lifted his tee shirt above his head. He hastily snapped off his watch as it was oversized and really clunky, and seeing as it was dark he assumed it fell somewhere on the floor.  

He almost wished the lights were on and that the room wasn’t so pitch black; he would have loved to see the reaction on her face to his multiple (large) tattoos, but he would have more loved to see her in barely nothing at all in the light, even though he already knew she had the most amazing body of any woman he’d ever encountered in his entire life.  

Her kimono came untied to reveal some kind of amazing, maybe green or maybe it was black, he couldn’t tell in the dark, but it was some sort of intricate and amazing lingerie. He wanted to really see if Emma was right about Aubrey having the most beautiful lingerie of any one, but even in the dark, he was almost a hundred percent sure that Emma was right.  

He would have so loved to whisper that he loved her in her ear, but he’d learned from previous (failed) relationships that the first time was never the right time for that kind of statement, because he figured she wouldn’t know whether to take it seriously or not, granted that it was during sex and that he may have just been caught up in the moment. He refrained; he could wait and tell her some other time. As they made love for the first time, it hit him; their relationship, courtship, whatever it was, was way more than some crazy infatuation. He thought it was probably called Love.

Dropping Off The Face Of The Earth