Guys Like You: Book 5 of The Young and Privileged of Washington, DC

by Vivian Kohlman

  What the fuck is going on??

  But it didn’t end there; the next few articles were about the threesome’s history—it was severely embellished, based on what I know of it. But it was clear to me that he and Layla had slightly more than a one-night stand a couple of years ago. At least, they went to dinner together and he drove her home the next morning, the article claimed. So, she slept in his hotel room with him. Ew.

  I couldn’t read anymore because my hands were shaking and my tipsy mind made the words scatter on the screen. OK, and I was also looking through a couple of tears that sprung up as I read.

  “I’ve seen enough. I need to sit down,” I said as I handed the phone back to him.

  Miko was quick to respond, taking my arm to lead me back to the cabana, blocking the people around us from getting too close to me. When we sat back on the cushion in the cabana, he gave me a bottle of water and let me gather my thoughts.

  “You don’t look so good,” Miko said.

  “I don’t feel so good. I just need a minute.”

  He put his arm over my shoulders and tried to pull me closer to him, but I shook him off. As comforting as his arms around me would be, the cabana was furnished with a large mattress and made up like a bed. It would send the wrong message.

  My mind was swirling with alcohol drenched doubt and confusion. I was trying to make sense of the articles and pictures, but it was too much. Was this just all made up, like the previous articles? King sure was smiling brightly at Layla over dinner. I mean I’ve seen Photoshop do wonders, but I started thinking of other things, too.

  His short texts to me the night that this little date was supposedly taking place. And he’s been pretty unaffected by what I consider terribly annoying propaganda. Maybe he is part of this?

  “Ava! Is everything ok?” Asli asked.

  She and Claudia were sitting on the opposite corner of the bed-like seating area. They both looked terribly concerned; I guess I look like a mess. I cleared my throat and took a deep breath—both moves were attempts to stop the tears that threatened to expose my hurt. I smiled weakly, but knew if I talked I would start sobbing.

  “Can you guys give her a few minutes?” Miko asked them, sounding somewhat annoyed.

  Asli looked at Miko like he just slapped her in her face, then stood up and put her hand out for me to take.

  “C’mon, let’s go to the ladies’,” she said with authority.

  I immediately took her hand and let her lead me, and Claudia followed close behind. I knew I couldn’t mask this—I needed a few minutes of privacy to let out some tears and get this all straight in my mind.

  As soon as the bathroom door shut, I could feel that I was about to lose it, so could Asli. She guided me to the diaper-changing counter and I sat on top; Asli sat next to me.

  “What the fuck is going on?” she asked.

  Tears spilled out of my eyes and I began sobbing, taking the handful of tissues that Claudia passed over to me.

  “I don’t know what to believe anymore. Miko showed me all these articles...conversations between Giorgio and King about Layla...stories of their much more than a one night stand past…the black roses Layla sent to me. All of this I wrote off as bullshit because King said it was. And now this? Miko just showed me an article with a picture of them smiling affectionately over dinner last fucking night, when King was essentially ignoring me. That’s what the fuck is going on!”

  “No, no, Ava. This is all just press that Giorgio’s manager is pushing out there. That’s all this is. I haven’t seen the article, but I know my brother—he’d never do what you’re saying. And you know that, too; we all knew this was going on,” Claudia reminded me.

  “No, I knew there would be bullshit; I didn’t know King was going to take her to dinner...”

  “It was staged—that picture was fake. King wants nothing to do with her. I don’t even think they’ve spoken—King just agreed to a photo shoot; she wasn’t even there, I promise you.”

  “You seem to know a lot more than I do. You could have warned me, Claudia!” I yelled. A girl who just finished washing her hands scurried past us, obviously not wanting to get involved.

  “All I knew is that he took staged pictures with scenery…”

  “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

  “King wouldn’t let me. I tried to get him to do this differently, Ava. He feels that launching Giorgio’s career will get him out of our life, and he doesn’t care what they say about him. He even joked about throwing the fight, letting Giorgio win. None of this fight really matters to King. All that matters is that we can go back home without having to look over our shoulders.”

  “Bullshit,” Asli chimed in. “This is bullshit. Fuck King. Ava doesn’t deserve to be put through this just so King can clean up a mess that he started. Enough. We’re leaving Vegas tonight.”

  “You can’t do that to King, Ava. He needs you here,” Claudia said, hoping to convince me.

  “Fuck King,” Asli exclaimed. “Sorry, Claudia, I know he’s your brother. But Ava’s my best friend—she’s my only priority right now.”

  “I know, but she loves King, let’s remember. And she’s sitting here crying; she needs him too!”

  “Exactly. He made her cry, now she needs to get away from him.”

  “Ugh, will you two please stop it? I need a second of peace,” I requested.

  Asli put her arms around me and let me cry my eyes out with my head resting on her shoulder. Now I had the added pain of having to think of what to do next. Leave Vegas? Leave King? That seems a bit drastic, at this stage. Claudia, not surprisingly, was drumming away on her phone. No doubt she’s warning King, but I didn’t care.

  I didn’t want to go back to our friends—or anywhere else—until the crying episode was over, and the girls waited patiently. After a final wipe of my eyes, I took a deep breath and looked down at the counter I was sitting on—there had to be a dozen crinkled up, wet tissues sitting there. I laughed at my messy state, making both girls smile widely.

  “So, did you tell him?” I asked Claudia, knowing her answer would be yes.

  “I had to; I’m sorry, but this is all a misunderstanding...”

  “Whatever. I’m not in the mood to go around in circles about this. How bad do I look?”

  “Well, I’ve seen you look better,” Asli said.

  I sighed, knowing I’ll have to pass through dozens of people to get out of here. Of course I appreciate her honesty, but I need to see for myself.

  I slowly turned around and took a peek at the mirror behind me. Oh...it’s bad. My eyes are so obviously swollen and my nose is Rudolph red.

  “Guys, I’m just going to get out of here. Will you tell Viv I’m sorry for me? I just want to go to my room.”

  “No, you’re coming to my room. You’re sleeping with me tonight. There’s no reason for you to have to deal with King,” Asli said.

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea...”

  “Claudia!” Asli and I exclaimed in unison.

  “Please don’t give me advice as King’s sister; if you want to talk to me as a friend, that’s fine,” I said somewhat bitterly. “Otherwise, keep it to yourself.”

  I took Asli’s hand and we jumped off the counter-top together. I let her guide me through the crowded pool toward the elevators; along the way, we lost Claudia—I suppose she went to our cabana or to find King. I felt bad for being snippy with her, but I wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of this.

  The elevator to our rooms was far from the pool entrance, so we had to walk through the conference hall corridor, then around some restaurants, and then to the hallway that held the elevator for the tower where our rooms were located. The entire way, Asli clung to my arm and we both scoped out the people passing us to be sure he didn’t find us. Luckily, we didn’t see him.

  Until the elevator door opened—King was in the elevator waiting to get out. I guess I can thank Claudia for this. I instinctually stepped to the side to give him
room to walk by but he didn’t move.

  He was speechless, with his eyes glued to my face, searching my expression for guidance. He stepped into the elevator entranceway and held it open with his hand. Asli pushed the up elevator button again.

  “We’ll catch the next one,” she said nonchalantly.

  “Princess, come with me,” King said slowly, like he was talking me off a ledge.

  He didn’t at all sound like his usual self; he sounded repentant and unsure, as if he knows he did something wrong, but not how to fix it.

  “I’m staying with Asli tonight,” I said, not looking him in the eyes.

  “Baby, please,” he pleaded with his hand outstretched toward me; his other hand was still holding the door open. “This can all be explained and I promise you’ll feel better after hearing me out. You might still be pissed, but you’ll feel better. Please.”

  He never left the elevator. My eyes reluctantly moved from his out-stretched hand to his eyes and I just about gasped. The expression on his face broke my heart—this tough, confident and sometimes arrogant man looks to be on the verge of tears.

  I looked at Asli once and she rolled her eyes. All three of us knew my next move. I took his hand and stepped into his arms while the elevator door shut behind me. We didn’t say a word as the elevator zoomed up to the sixty-first floor, but he held me so tight and kissed my head so sincerely that I fell back into a crying spree.

  I wouldn’t hold his hand while walking into our suite; I wrapped my arms over my waist, partly to keep me from holding his hand and partly because I was nauseated from all of my intense emotions and, likely, the alcohol-drenched day in the sun. I sat down on the couch and King went straight to the bar to grab a couple of bottles of water for us.

  “I think I’ll need more than that,” I said.

  “What’ll it be?”

  “Vodka and water.”

  In silence, he took the bottle of Grey Goose that was on the shelf and pulled a Pellegrino out of the mini refrigerator, then grabbed a glass and put ice into it. He started to explain while making my drink.

  “I really thought this all would play out under the radar; I had no idea it would blow into such a public mess,” he started.

  “Under the radar? Like I’d never find out?”

  “No Ava. You knew everything I knew. You knew his people were making shit up and embellishing the truth. Neither of us knew what would come out of it. I had no idea even the MMA site would pick it up, much less TMZ and everywhere else it’s landed.”

  He put my drink in front of me and I took a sip, keeping the glass in my hand. I had a feeling this glass would be empty soon.

  “Everywhere else? So where else is your story being made public?” I asked, my voice dripping with distrust.

  “Wait, I thought you knew it spread. So what are you upset about, then?”

  “I saw the pictures of you and her looking lovingly in each other’s eyes; I read the conversation you and Giorgio had about wanting her back...you said you loved her.”

  “No, no. That was just...”

  “I saw all the so-called staged pictures of the three of you. I saw you having dinner with her last fucking night,” he kept trying to interject; I continued cutting him off, unable to stop my voice from rising until I was almost yelling. “Nothing can take all of this away. Everything I read and saw is swirling around in my mind. I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been...”

  “Stop it!” he shouted so loud that it shook me.

  Ah, there’s the King I know. I instantly stopped speaking and continued to allow my tears to stream down my face. Now he looked pissed, but he took a deep breath and calmed down before talking.

  “Don’t say another word until you hear me out,” he calmly said. “You are so wrong, Ava. Every single thing you saw was bullshit. Every single picture was staged, and taken from your Instagram account, and photo-shopped. I didn’t do anything in those pictures. And it wasn’t even at night; it was a few days ago, during the day, when I took some these pictures. I care about one thing: getting Giorgio out of our life. They photo shopped the pictures together to make it look like whatever they wanted. This is all part of the game...MMA is just a few short steps from professional wrestling these days. We knew this was going to happen; maybe not the extent, but I didn’t hide it from you.”

  “Yes you did. You told Claudia not to tell me about the photo shoots,” I snipped.

  “Yeah, cuz it was bullshit. I had no idea what they were planning, I swear.”

  “I guess I just didn’t expect you to be so convincing,” I complained.

  “Look, it’s all fake and it’s almost over,” he said as he swung a chair around to face me and sat down.

  “Wait. Were you ever with her? ...since you met me, that is.”

  “No.”

  “Did you want to be?”

  “Fuck no.”

  “Is any of this true?”

  “Fuck no,” he said, taking a pause to gather his thoughts. “Princess, I’m so in love with you. You are the only one I want to be with, now and always.”

  “Yeah,” I scoffed. “And how many twenty-three year old guys say the same thing then cheat on their love the next week?”

  “Not me. I never had feelings for a girl in my life until you. Every girl I slept with held the same interest to me as driving a sports car. This isn’t a passing romance; this is it,” he said, motioning his hand back and forth between us.

  His words resonated through me and relief fell over me, almost completely erasing the insecurity I was feeling. I realize that this is part of my problem; I believe anything he tells me.

  “Do you know how much it hurt me to see all of this?” I asked him.

  “I was hoping you wouldn’t bother to look.”

  “I didn’t have to. My friends are watching out for me.”

  “You mean Miko.”

  “Not just him, Asli and Preston, too.”

  “I was hoping your trust in us was so strong you wouldn’t question any of this; I never thought it would phase you.”

  “Really?” I laughed sarcastically. “And how did you react when you saw two innocuous pictures of Miko and I from the other night?”

  His jaw clenched. “That’s different.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Miko wants you; I see how he’s been looking at you since we got here.”

  “Yeah, and you think Layla doesn’t want you?”

  “Why would she? She’s dating Giorgio.”

  “Please. She slept with you before. Trust me, she wants you.”

  “Just because you like the way I fuck doesn’t mean every girl does.”

  “Make love,” I corrected.

  “Sorry, make love. And you’re not playing a game here. Anything you see is bogus. Those pictures of you and your ex-boyfriend were real.”

  “Like I told you, they were misleading at best. But my point is that it didn’t make you feel good to see them, did it? And yet, I wasn’t looking longingly into his eyes like the picture of you and Layla during dinner.”

  “You do realize that picture was photo-shopped from the one you posted of us on our three-month anniversary, right?” he asked. I ignored him.

  “And you didn’t read a conversation about me getting him back or loving him, right?”

  “Right,” he sighed. ”But you know that conversation was completely made up.”

  “You also didn’t receive a gift from Miko, like those flowers and the note about her picking you like it’s her choice.”

  “Right.”

  “So let me ask you again. Do you have any idea how much all this shit has hurt me? It’s not just one write-up; it’s all of them. Do you see how this is getting to be too much for me to just write off and explain away?”

  He didn’t say anything at first, but I know he was going over all of the propaganda that’s been put out over the last week or so.

  “OK, I can see this from your point-of-view. Yes, I have an idea of how
you feel. And I’m so, so sorry that this bullshit got out into the main stream. I had no idea that this fight was interesting to anyone.”

  “It’s not the fight, it’s the love triangle between three beautiful and hot people.”

  “So you think Giorgio is hot?”

  “Yes, King, and so does every other girl with a pulse. Just like every guy, including you, thinks Layla is hot. You three make a great story.”

  “I don’t think she’s hot,” he said.

  “Yes, you do, or you wouldn’t have slept with her to begin with. If she wasn’t so hot, none of this would be happening. So don’t lie.”

  “I’m not lying to you. Yeah, I thought she was hot a couple of years ago, but I don’t now.”

  “Whatever. Look, I believe what you’ve told me. I just can’t shake the feelings of humiliation and distrust that are still lingering in me.”

  “How can I make this up to you?” He asked sincerely.

  “Don’t participate in any more press events, win the fight, and be sure to make a scene about choosing me over Layla.”

  “Wow, I never took you for a publicity-thirsty girl,” he said with a relieved smile on his face.

  “And I never took you for someone who wouldn’t protect us at all times,” I said defiantly, staring him in the eyes. I wanted to hit the point home—he may not care about this, but I do.

  His smile disappeared. It was purposeful that I emphasized ‘us’; on our first date, he was very clear that he’d protect me and us at all times. It clearly struck a chord with him; what I wasn’t expecting was that it struck a chord in me, too. Tears sprung into my eyes again.

  He leaned forward and put his elbows on his thighs and his head in his hands. He didn’t say anything at first, but eventually he lifted his head so he could look me in the eyes.

  “I’ve never had to take another person’s feelings into consideration. I apologize for not thinking about how this would impact you. And I promise you that we’ll set the record straight.”

  I didn’t say anything. I was trying to fight off the tears and didn’t want to talk until I was sure I could do so without crying. I looked away from him and took a deep breath.