Here’s the thing. I’m not a jerk. I get penned as a jerk a lot. I guess it’s the fame thing. Or that some of my former fans blame me for the fact that Nsync broke up. Or that I caused that whole Super Bowl censorship thing –let’s be honest, you probably look at that now and laugh, right? Or maybe it’s because I did that video on me and Britney’s relationship. Fine, I’ll admit it now. It’s been, what, ten years since it first aired? No one’s stupid. I denied and denied it. But there you go – I based “Cry Me a River” about Britney. So maybe I am somewhat of a jerk for lying or for throwing her under the bus when I said I’d never talk about it…except I didn’t. Talk about it that is. I sang about it. And that’s technically not the same thing, is it?

 

And now I’m getting front-page news because I called off my wedding. I didn’t call off the engagement, but Jessica pretty much has done that herself. I just didn’t think the time was right. I needed to think about it more. I needed to get more perspective. I’ve always wanted to be married. And I’ve been with Jess for a long time. Well, longer than any other relationship I’ve had. I just needed to make sure. I needed to get out of town. I had no idea where I was going but I needed to get out of Los Angeles and away from anyone who knew me right now. Even my own mother was pissed off at me and that never happens. So the sooner I left, the better. I sent out a mass text letting people know I was gone for the weekend. I got a few responses, but most of them were one-liners like “Yeah, you should” or “WTF did you do that to her?!”

 

My friends weren’t exactly supportive of my decision.

 

“Sure I know a place,” Joey told me, when I called him for any ideas of places out of the ordinary. “It’s a little island off the Keys. You can drive there but it’s pretty tricky to maneuver. I’d hire a prop plane if I were you. There’s a swanky little hotel right on the water. Usually vacant rooms. Kelly and I used to go there all the time when the girls were little. I bet you can still get in.” He gave me the name and number of the hotel. Paradise Palms. It sounded cheesy, but Joey swore to me that it wasn’t as bad as its name made it sound.

 

“Is there a website?” I asked, getting out of the limo at LAX. Immediately, five paparazzi were in my face demanding to know why I’d called off my wedding. I ignored them and grabbed my bags from the trunk, then headed inside to get the first plane out of L.A. to Miami.

 

“No idea,” Joey answered. “It’s small, but nice. You’ll have plenty of time to clear your head. Oh, and maybe as a thank you, you could consider inviting me to your next wedding.”

 

Ouch. That stung. I was beginning to see why people associated me with being a jerk.

 

“Joey, I, she wanted it, I mean, we wanted it to be…”

 

“Uh huh,”

“Yeah. Ok, I will. Sorry,”

 

Awkward pause.

 

“So, yeah, I’ll let you know how it is. The hotel I mean,”

 

“Enjoy,” Joey hung up and I stared at the phone as I waited in line. We hadn’t invited any of the guys. We didn’t want it to be some “Nsync reunion” thing. We just wanted it to be our day. Well, ok, she wanted it to be our day. She’s very demanding, Jessica. I’m not the only one in this who should be getting-well, never mind. People will always have their opinions.

 

In about an hour and a half, I was waiting at the gate, getting ready to board a plane to Miami. From there, I’d take a prop plane to the little island of Felicity Key. I’d never even heard of it before. And when I’d tried to look up both the island and the hotel on my iPhone, it came up with nothing. I was starting to wonder if Joey was lying to me and it was all a big set up and I’d end up on some deserted island for the rest of my life.

 

Maybe I deserved that.

 

I landed in Miami at 6pm, Eastern Standard Time. Meanwhile, I was still on Pacific Time and feeling good. I knew that feeling wouldn’t last and I’d be up in the middle of the night craving a hamburger or something, so I embraced it. I embraced getting my luggage, I embraced hailing a taxi, and I almost embraced a paparazzo that was trailing me. But not a loving embrace. More of a Hulk Hogan-knock-you-unconscious-kind of embrace.

 

The prop plane was waiting for me. My publicist had ordered me a nicer one, complete with seats that reclined all the way down into a bed, a personal attendant, and an open bar. I double-checked with the pilot before we took off to make sure Felicity Key really existed. It did. Although he had no idea where the Paradise Palms hotel was. Fine. I was sure a taxi or something would take me there once we landed. After all, I wasn’t flying to a remote country. I was still in the United States.

 

We landed exactly a half-hour after we took off and I was already craving some conch chowder with a signature Jimmy Buffet-style margarita. We were in the Keys. Surely there was something of that sort here on this little island. I walked down off the plane to a nearly deserted landing pad. I looked back at the pilot who shrugged, gave the personal attendant $300 and walked towards what could only be described as a run-down, dilapidated airport. I don’t even think it was an airport. It was a one-story concrete building with a small radio tower behind it. The only way I still knew I was in Florida was for the state flag flying proudly by the entrance.

 

When I walked inside, there was an older woman filing her nails and watching Jeopardy on a tiny 10-inch television.

“Hello,” I greeted her, the enthusiasm slowly waning away from me. “Um, do you know where the Paradise Palms hotel is?”

 

Her eyes were glued to the television. “For crying out loud, it’s George Harrison you idiot!” she screamed at the contestant who got the answer to the question wrong. I jumped and she finally took notice of me.

 

“Can I help you?” She looked at me as though I were a roach on the floor.

 

“Yes, hi. I’m looking for the Paradise Palms hotel. Can you get me a taxi there?”

 

“What’s the matter? Are you disabled and can’t make a telephone call?” she snapped.

 

“I don’t really know the telephone number…” I trailed off and she saw the iPhone in my hand.

 

“Doesn’t that phone do everything but have sex for you? Why don’t you ask it? I’m not your damn telephone operator. I’m just here to collect tickets. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” she pointed to the television, “I’m in the middle of something!”

 

“By all means. Wouldn’t want you to not get the next question,” I muttered, restraining myself from telling her more. That’s all I needed was for her to give an interview to some local paper, which then would be released nationwide about what an even bigger jerk I was. Although, she acted as though she didn’t know who I was and that made me somewhat relieved. Maybe nobody else would know either. After all, who in the world even lived in Felicity Key?

 

I found a taxi company and they were familiar with the hotel, which made me relieved. I was already dreaming of that conch chowder and margarita, while enjoying an ocean view from my room. Or hell, maybe I’d go into Felicity Key and act like a local. I was here to clear my head and I was going to do just that.

 

The taxi came soon after and the driver spoke zero English. I knew enough Spanish to communicate, but he barely understood me. I gave up making conversation and looked out the window to glimpse Felicity Key and its surroundings. There wasn’t much so far. Lots of palm trees. Lots of marshland. I caught a glimpse of the ocean as we turned a corner. Billboards for kayak rentals. Plenty of rundown condominiums. Nothing else. I was starting to get a little anxious. Surely there was more than just this to this little island? Joey had spoken so highly of it. Then again, I hadn’t invited him to my wedding. He had every right to lie to me about it and send me to the ghetto of the Florida Keys, which is what this was turning out to be.

 

We turned around a bend and I saw the entrance to Paradise Palms Resort & Hotel, which was anything but spruced up or fancy. In fact, it looked like it hadn’t been touched since 1950. Lots of hot pink. Lots of concrete. Fake flamingos by the entrance. I swallowed hard. If the entrance looked like this…..and then I saw it. Right in front of my eyes was the most rundown, cheap looking motel I’d ever laid eyes on. And this was it. This was supposed to be where I was going to clear my head.

 

I was going to kill Joey.

 

“Um, amigo?” I said, as he pulled up to the front door. “Um, is there, er, Hilton? Marriott? Hampton Inn?”

 

The taxi driver looked at me like I was crazy. He shook his head and I paid my fare, grabbed my bags and was left standing in front of two old French doors in desperate need of a paint job. I took a breath in and slowly let it out, then pulled out my phone. I had one bar left on it. Enough to call Joey and ask him what the hell he was trying to do to me.

 

Joey was already laughing when he answered the phone. “Well, calling me from paradise?”

 

“I cannot believe you did this to me! Joey, where the hell am I anyway? And what is this place?” I was pacing back and forth in front of the entrance to the lobby.

 

“Oh stop being a baby for once in your life and go inside and check in. It’s not that bad,”

 

“Did you really stay here?”

 

“Yes, I really stayed there,” he mocked me.

 

“With Kelly? You brought Kelly here?!”

 

“With Kelly? No. Steve and I stayed there one night when we were too drunk to find the Hilton,”

 

“Where is the Hilton?!”

 

“It closed years ago. This was when we were on vacation. Like you know, right after No Strings Attached came out,”

 

“You are a mother-fucking ass, Joey Fatone,” I gritted my teeth as I said this to him.

 

“Just enjoy it. It’s a cute little place. From what I remember,”

 

“You were too drunk to even remember!” I yelled at him. “Why did you do this to me? You knew I needed a nice place to go off and think!”

 

“You need to get your head out of your ass and remember who you are, Justin,”

 

I hung up on him. I was seething with anger. Fine. Fine. I would stay here one night and then get the first plane out of here the next morning. I picked up my bags from the pavement and walked inside. The lobby was just as run down, though I did see a few newer pieces of furniture. It still looked like something out of a beach movie from the 50s. I was met with an old woman manning the receptionist desk and a younger woman who was sitting down next to her, typing away on the computer.

 

“Hello!” the older woman greeted me. “You must be Justin Randall.” I never used my real name when I checked into hotels. Although, looking around at this place, it probably wouldn’t have mattered.

 

“That’s me,” I forced a smile.

 

“Wonderful. We have you down for three nights-“

 

“Um, yeah. Actually, I’m only here for one. One night. I’m, uh, something came up and I need to get back tomorrow,” I interrupted her, as I handed over my credit card.

 

“Good luck,” the younger woman said. “The prop planes only come every three days.”

 

“You’re kidding me?!” I looked at her and caught her eye. She was pretty and friendly looking. Anything was better than that beast that had greeted me at the airport. She had wavy, black hair and a bronze tan. Pretty nice for it being the middle of October.

 

“I’m sorry. They don’t really come out here anymore,” the woman shrugged. “Is there something wrong back on the main land?”

 

I shook my head slowly. “No. No, I just, um…” Well, how did I tell her I didn’t want to stay at her hotel? I cleared my throat. “Just, nothing. I’ll, I’ll figure it out.”

 

“We have an ocean front room for you, Mr. Randall,” the older woman stood up and went to hand me the room key. It was the old fashioned kind that you had to put in a keyhole. No keycards. Why should I have been surprised? “And there’s a bar just around the corner that serves food until nine and drinks until midnight. Julia, show Mr. Randall to his room.”

 

The younger woman stood to her feet and I was immediately attracted to her physique. She was wearing a white tank top and jean cut offs that ended at her perfectly toned thighs. Her breasts were just the right size and I couldn’t help but stare at them as she came around the front desk. She caught me and shook her head, but I caught a playful smile on her lips. She probably got this all the time.

 

“Follow me,” she said, and I gladly walked behind her, watching her butt, which was rounded but firm as well. This girl worked out, that was for sure. She led me down a long hallway and when we got to the end, she gestured towards the last door. “This is your room. Mr. Timberlake,” her eyes danced as she said this to me and I chuckled, and looked at the floor then back at her.

 

“Congratulations. You’re the first person who’s recognized me in this town,” I told her, as I went to open the door.

 

“I keep up,” she shrugged. “And I went to school in Orlando. Right about the time you were your biggest with Nsync. I went to a concert or two.”

 

“Really? Nice,” I opened the door and was pleasantly surprised. A king-sized bed awaited me, and the whole room itself looked nothing like the outside or the lobby. It almost looked like the inside of a swanky Miami Beach hotel and not some rundown crap motel, which this was.

 

“You want to switch hotels, don’t you,” Julia said, as she leaned against the doorframe. “If you’re patient, I think you’ll find the room satisfactory. My Granny’s had this hotel for years. It’s taken her almost having it foreclosed on to realize that she had to update it. So I went to school at UCF and got a degree in hotel management to help her out. It’s been a process, that’s for sure. We just redid all of the rooms and now we’re working on the lobby.” She walked into the room and went over to the sliding glass doors. “But, I promise you, you’re not going to want to leave. You can’t get a view like this anywhere else on the island.” She opened the doors and I looked outside. We were literally right on the ocean. I could walk five steps and be on the beach. She looked back at me. “Don’t leave. Trust me.” She walked back to the door and then turned around. “You can get closure here just as well as you could at the Hilton, were it still open.”

 

“How the hell did you know I was here for closure-“

 

Julia chuckled and shook her head. “People.com my friend. You have several ‘sources’ that blabbed.” She went to leave but before she did she poked her head back in. “Oh, and dinner is being served right now. You won’t want to miss that. My Granny’s known all over the island for her fried conch fritters.”

 

Well, it wasn’t conch chowder, but at this point it was nearing 8pm and I was starving. I got settled in the room, showered, changed, and charged my phone before leaving. The motel was literally just one long hallway after another. The hallways met in the middle of the lobby, which led to a restaurant, aptly named Julia’s. I walked into the small space, which was really more of a café feel than a restaurant, and sat down at a table by the window. I could get a good view of the ocean while I ate and that’s all I’d wanted all day.

 

“So, what would you like?”

 

I looked up and Julia was standing in front of me. “How many jobs do you have around here?” I asked her.

 

She grinned at me. “Several. Granny named the restaurant after me when I was born. I figure until we get more business, I can at least wait tables for her. Besides, looks like you and Mr. Leyton are our only guests tonight.” I looked behind her and saw a little old man eating conch fritters and drinking coffee. His hand shook as he brought the coffee cup to his mouth. “He’s been a friend of Granny’s for years. He knew my grandfather back when they were both in the Navy. His wife died last year and he comes here every night for dinner. Orders the same thing.”

 

I watched him and looked up at Julia with a sad face. “That’s pitiful,”

 

“Nah, he’s fine. He’ll leave and go play shuffleboard with Granny til his daughter comes to pick him up,” she assured me. “So, what’ll you have?”

 

“Well,” I looked at the menu. “How about conch fritters and fries and a margarita.”

 

“You’re cute,” Julia shook her head. “A margarita. Please look at the bartender. He’s about the same age as Mr. Leyton. He’s probably made one margarita in his life.” I looked over at the bartender and it was true. He was ancient looking. “Look, I get off soon. If you’re still awake, I’ll take you to a beach bar down the road. They have decent margaritas. Nothing like Key West or Margaritaville, but they’re good.”

 

“I’ll be awake,” I assured her. “And I’ll just have a water.”

 

Julia nodded and smiled at me. “Be right back.”

 

I looked over again at Mr. Leyton. He wore a hunter green cap and a brown jacket. He was looking up at the television, which was showing CNN. He’d mutter to himself and shake his head, then go back to his food. He caught me eyeing him and raised his coffee cup to me as if greeting me. I nodded back and smiled. Julia came back with my water and then went over to Mr. Leyton.

“Who’s that young man?” I heard him ask her.

 

“Just a guest, Mr. Leyton,” Julia answered.

 

“You should go after him,” he winked at her and I caught her blushing and shaking her head, then looking over at me.

 

“I think he’s pretty occupied with someone else,” Julia shook her head at him and then went back into the kitchen. Mr. Leyton wiped his mouth and stood slowly from his table, then looked over at me once more and walked towards me.

 

“Gerald Leyton,” he reached his hand out to shake mine, which I gladly took.

“Justin,” I answered, then realized it was probably safe to give him my real last name. “Justin Timberlake.”

 

“What brings you to Felicity? We don’t never get visitors here,” he gave me the once over. “And judging by how you’re dressed, I think you got on the wrong plane. Shouldn’t you be in Miami? Or Tampa Bay?”

 

I tried not to laugh too hard. “Nah. I hear this is a good place to clear your thoughts,”

 

Mr. Leyton nodded. “It is. Do you know Julia?”

 

“We just met this evening,” I replied.

 

“She’s a good girl. Known her since she was small. She’s gonna transform this place into a palace it sounds like. Not much for change myself, but I think it needs it,”

 

That was the understatement of the year.

 

Just then, Julia came out with a plate of conch fritters and fries and set it down in front of me. “Mr. Leyton, I think Granny’s waiting out by the pool for shuffleboard,” she told him, taking the seat across from me.

 

“Yep. I’m on my way,” he tipped his cap at me and then turned to leave, but not before leaving money on the table. “There’s your tip, Julia. Save it for a rainy day.”

 

“I will,” she called to him as he left, then looked at me. “He says that to me every night.”

 

“And do you?” I asked, as I picked up a fritter.

 

“Do I what?”

 

“Save it for a rainy day?”

 

“I give it to Granny so she can afford to update this place,” she looked at her watch. “Well, I guess no one else is gonna come in. I’m going to change and I’ll meet you in the lobby. Enjoy your meal.” She stood up and I watched her walk out of the restaurant, wondering if she was sashaying her hips on purpose or if I was just fixated on them too long.

 

I scarfed down the fritters and fries, which were extremely delicious, or maybe I was just really hungry. Julia was waiting in the lobby for me when I walked out. She’d changed into a cotton sundress that hit her right below the thigh and white thong sandals. Her hair had been pulled back into a ponytail and she carried a little straw wallet with her. She was an island girl if I ever saw one.

 

I normally don’t go out with strangers. It takes me a while to warm up to someone. But for some reason, I didn’t hesitate when Julia had suggested we go out that night. Not that she was asking me out. She knew I wanted a margarita and was helping me with my search. And she knew enough from tabloids to know that I was mending from a long relationship so I figured she wouldn’t come onto me too heavily.

 

The beach bar was just that – a beach bar. A tiny little Tiki hut in the middle of the beach down from the motel. It was packed and Julia had informed me that most of her friends from high school had never left and were here every night. She introduced me to several friends right away and most of them were completely star struck and didn’t know how to react. However, Julia was cool and pulled me away from that crowd and over to the other side of the bar. Everyone there was lighting a joint or so mellowed out from alcohol that it was a calmer atmosphere. We immediately ordered margaritas and soon I was just one of the crowd. I watched Julia as she interacted with her friends and wondered why this girl hadn’t just stayed in Orlando. It was nice of her and all to come back and help out her grandmother, but Julia was not a Felicity Key girl anymore. She was definitely different from most of her friends, who, it seemed to me, were beach stoners and from what it sounded like, all worked for their parents at local haunts around the island. I guess it is what it is, right? People leave home and don’t come back. It wasn’t the case here. Nobody left. Ever.

 

After three margaritas, I was feeling pretty good and Julia was on her fourth beer. The music had gotten louder and when I looked around, the bar was even more crowded than it had been when we’d arrived. I stood up from the small table I was sitting at – basically it was a tree stump that had been turned into a table – and took my glass back to the bar.

 

“Another one?” Jimmy, the bartender asked me.

 

“Sure,” I told him. “Oh, and make sure Julia’s tab is on mine.”

 

Jimmy nodded, “Yeah, man, sure thing,”

 

“Holy shit!” someone yelled in my direction. I turned around to see a huge, burly guy standing a few feet from me. “It’s Justin Fuckin’ Timberlake!”

 

I wanted to dig a hole in the sand and hide. Things had been going so well. No one had really recognized me or if they did, they’d left me alone.

 

“We know, Mark,” muttered everyone, nearly almost in unison.

 

“Dude! Your music changed my life, man!” he walked over toward me and grabbed my hand, shaking it fiercely.

 

“Um, thanks. Thank you,” I tried to pull my hand out of his grasp but he held on.

“Dude, but seriously, you should turn this shitty music off and you should sing for us!” he was practically yelling this at me, but I let it slide. He’d obviously been drinking all day or so he smelled like it.

 

“Um, nah, man, I’m on vacation. Maybe another time,” I managed to yank my hand away and Julia was suddenly next to me.

 

“Mark, go home. You’re super drunk,” she told him, then looked at me. “That’s my cousin. He drinks a lot.”

 

“You don’t say,” I muttered sarcastically. “He’s ten sheets to the wind. I mean, I’m a little tipsy, so I guess I can’t say much.”

 

“Just ignore him,” Julia stated and then pulled me away from the crowd that had started to gather. “We can go back to the hotel. There’s not much liquor, but we can get more beer or something. Or you can just go to sleep.” She caught my eye and I knew she didn’t mean for me to really go to sleep. There was lust in them if I ever saw it. And I was giving it right back.

 

“I’m not tired,” I responded, and sipped on my margarita. “Besides, you were wrong. These are more than decent. These are awesome.”

 

“Are you sure you’re not more than tipsy?” she asked me, winking slightly. She looked over my shoulder and I turned around to see everyone dancing.

 

“Let’s go,” I grabbed her arm, margarita in hand, and we began dancing with each other. She was easy to grind up on and didn’t mind when I grabbed her backside and pulled her toward me. I’d finished the last margarita and was feeling very, very good. Relaxed. Ready for vacation.

 

We got back to the hotel at a quarter to four. Nothing was said between us when we walked into the deserted lobby.

 

“Well, goodnight,” she went to turn away from me.

 

“Wait,” I whispered, realizing that no one else was even in the hotel except for me and whispering was stupid.

 

“Yeah?” Julia turned to face me.

 

“Um, you’re not driving home are you?”

 

“No. I live here. On the other side of the lobby,”

 

“Can I see it?”

 

“My apartment?”

 

“Yeah,” I didn’t give her a chance to answer and followed her to the other side of the lobby. Down a long corridor, around another hallway, and finally to a set of doors that had a doorbell next to them. She unlocked the door and I followed her inside. The apartment had obviously been an old suite that she’d converted. Small kitchen, even smaller bathroom, a sitting area, and a bedroom.

 

“Do you want anything to drink?” she asked, as she poured herself a glass of water.

 

I shook my head and didn’t take my eyes off her. She sipped the water slowly and caught my eye. I walked over to her, took the glass from her and set it on the counter.

 

“What are you doing?” her voice was low and husky and she pressed herself against me.

 

I looked down at her. “What do you want me to do?”

 

She watched me for a minute, wondering if I’d make the first move. I didn’t. I wanted her to. It didn’t take long before she pushed me against the kitchen counter and ran her hands up and down my chest before she gripped the bottom of the shirt I was wearing. I relinquished and took it off. She wandered her fingers down to the belt on my jeans and I pulled her closer. Reaching down, I suckled at her neck as she undid the belt and as my pants fell to the floor, I lifted the skimpy tank dress away from her body. She was wearing a little white thong underneath but nothing else.

 

She backed away from me and I surveyed her every move as she sprawled onto her bed and leaned back, luring me toward her. I didn’t hesitate. I was single now. My fiancé had called off my wedding.

 

“Just tonight,” she said softly, as I ambled my way towards her.

 

“You can’t tell anyone,” I whispered, my lips sucking on her skin, my breath hot on her body. I knew she could already feel me against her and I bucked to let her know I wanted it just as bad.

 

“I’m not gonna say a word,” she breathed, her legs spreading beneath me and her hands tangled in my hair and soon our bodies were rocking in slow motion together.

 

 

The next morning, I woke up and forgot where I was until I looked next to me and saw Julia’s exposed back. I looked at the alarm clock and we’d only been asleep for four hours. I should’ve still been asleep since it was still the middle of the night back in L.A. and I was definitely on California time. She was sleeping soundly so I closed my eyes once more and tried to fall asleep again. As soon as I’d gotten into a comatose state, her alarm went off and we both jumped.

 

“Hey,” she turned to me and smiled. “I’ve got to get ready and be at the front desk soon.” She quickly hopped out of bed and I watched her as she began to undress and grabbed a robe from behind her door then headed to the bathroom. I leaned back on my elbows and thought about what had transpired a few hours ago. I hadn’t been with anyone new in a long time. There’d been that short period that Jess and I had broken up and I might’ve had a one-night stand or two, but that had been four years ago now. I knew I should’ve felt guilty, but I didn’t. Maybe once I got back to L.A. and had to deal with the shit I’d caused, maybe then.

 

But I didn’t right now.

 

Julia came in a few minutes later, the robe around her and a towel on her head. She shook her hair out and went to take her robe off. I’d crawled to the edge of the bed and pulled her back down with me.

 

“Justin!” she giggled and I rolled on top of her, pinning her down.

 

“Call in sick,” I kissed her, my tongue exploring her mouth. The only thing between us was the silk fabric of her robe. I was still completely naked. “Just do it, Julia. Call in sick.”

 

She kissed me back and I reached down to tug at the belt on her robe. Her legs were spread beneath me so I could easily slide into her.

 

“If…if I call in sick…what…should I say I have?” she grunted, as I pumped into her.

 

“A stomach virus,” I began to kiss her neck and then dragged my tongue down to her breasts.

 

“Mmmph!” was her response. “Shit, Justin….okay, okay I’ll call…I’ll call in sick..just don’t stop!”

 

I looked down at her and continued my assault on her body. She was just as beautiful as I knew she’d be when I first laid eyes on her yesterday. And this felt just as amazing the second time as it had the first. She bit on her lip and turned her head to the side, her fingers gripping onto my shoulders. Sweat dripped from my forehead onto her neck and I felt her squeeze me even harder right before she came. I continued moving inside of her, and collapsed on top of her a few minutes later. She was still breathing heavily beneath me and her arms were still wrapped around my neck. I looked down at her and she pulled me towards her so that our lips met in a fierce kiss.

 

She was silent for a few minutes and I could feel myself growing hard once more. This girl was like an addiction for me. I needed her. I wanted her again. I could stay with her all day like this. All weekend, in fact.

 

I reached over and stroked her arm softly. Her face turned towards me, a serious expression on her face.

 

“Justin,” she sighed and leaned up on her elbow. “Are things really over with you and Jessica?”

A strange question coming from the girl I’d just had sex with twice in a span of a few hours.

 

“She broke up with me after I called off the wedding,” I reached for Julia again but she shook her head.

 

“Do you still love her? Are you going to reconcile it when you get back?”

 

Why the hell was she ruining this? What were we, on the Oprah show now?

 

“I-I don’t know,” I ran a hand through my hair and eyed her. “Look, all I know is I want you with me in this bed. And I don’t want to leave all day. And judging from how you just responded a few minutes ago, I think you want the same thing.”

 

“And then what? Then I’m the girl who fucked Justin Timberlake after he called off his wedding? No, I don’t think I want that,” Julia stood from the bed. “And you don’t want to be that jerk that did that to her. To Jessica. I don’t know her but I’m sure she’s not holed up in some hotel room with a random guy.”

 

“Are you trying to make me feel guilty for what just happened? Look, I came here to clear my head. And you and I had fun last night. And again, just now. It’s just a random weekend and I’ll be gone and you’ll probably never hear from me again,”

 

“No, you’re right. I won’t. But I’ll see your face all the time and I’ll feel like shit because I’ll know what happened between us. Especially if you never rectify it with Jessica,” Julia began to dress again. “I’m sorry, Justin. We probably shouldn’t have done that. As fun as it was, I’m just the girl you did after your fiancé dumped you. And I don’t think I want to be that.” She handed me the shirt I’d worn the night before. “They’re still serving breakfast if you hurry.” I didn’t move. “Justin, c’mon. You can’t stay here.”

 

“Fine,” I stood to my feet. “And you wouldn’t have been just some girl I fucked, Julia. I wouldn’t have forgotten about you. Even if I do get back with Jess, I-“

 

“Yeah, okay,” she cut me off. “Go enjoy your vacation. I’m sorry, Justin.”

 

She was kicking me out. Okay, once more, not trying to sound full of myself, but no girl had ever kicked me out of their bed. I’d had plenty of opportunities for doing the opposite, but it had never happened to me. So not only was I getting a huge ego bruising, I was also getting kicked out of the bedroom.

 

I got dressed and headed back towards the lobby. Her grandmother was sitting behind the desk and I was hoping she wouldn’t see me. Too late. I was the only hotel guest there.

 

“Oh, Mr. Randall!” she called to me. “Good news! There’s a plane coming in in about two hours. It’s rare that this happens. Would you like me to call the airport and reserve your spot?”

 

“Yeah,” I answered. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thank you.” I forced a smile and then headed back to my room. I’d forgotten that I’d left my phone charging since the day before when I’d gone to dinner. It was blowing up with text messages and I’d had several missed calls. None of them from Jess. Several from my mother, from Trace, from a few random friends wanting to know if I wanted to go out and hadn’t known I’d left. But none from Jessica.

 

I hadn’t even really unpacked so it didn’t take me long to get my things back together. I had no idea if I could even get a flight out of Miami once I landed there. Worst case I could always get a room at a hotel on South Beach.

 

No. No, I needed to get back to L.A. Julia was right. I needed to fix things with Jess.

 

“Is Julia here?” I asked her grandmother, when I was back out in the lobby, paying the hotel bill. “I wanted to say goodbye.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, dear. She called in sick. I told her you were checking out. She said to tell you goodbye and good luck,” her grandmother smiled at me.

 

So we weren’t even going to say goodbye. And she really would be the last girl I fucked before I went back to my fiancé.

 

“Tell her I said thanks for everything,” I replied, and handed her grandmother $500.

 

“Oh, Mr. Randall, it’s only $50 a night. And the meal was only $9!”

 

“Just a little something to help you out here,” I winked at her and gave one last wave before I left. Julia’s grandmother was looking at me with complete shock. I simply smiled and headed out the door. As I got in the cab, I looked over towards the room I knew was Julia’s. I saw her staring at me from the window. She waved at me and I waved back.

 

It was the last time I’d ever see her or Felicity Key, Florida again.

 

Maybe I am a jerk. Maybe I have a lot of shit to get through before I get married. I’m talking to Jessica about that as soon as I land in L.A. tonight. I’ve already called her and told her I wanted to talk and she told me we’d been through too much not to talk about it. I will tell her about Julia. Whether or not she takes me back, I guess only time will tell.

 

But I don’t think I’m as big of a jerk as I was before.

 

Do you?