by Kat T. Masen
Don’t say it!
You had forgotten all about it.
Okay, I’m calling bullshit on myself. You hadn’t forgotten about it. You slept. You slept because you cried yourself to sleep because life is fucked up and you had no clue what the hell happened last night.
Wesley Rich cheated on your gullible ass—that’s what happened.
And, you hated yourself for enjoying what Logan did to you.
The soft pillow is perfect to bury my face into and try to block out the images that haunt me as last night replays in my mind.
I was angry—livid. To the point that nothing made sense. One would assume that my state of mind was bordering insanity and I was one step away from swatting the imaginary flies away from my face.
Thinking about the moment I saw the image of Wesley, how terribly sick to the stomach I felt, and how all I could think about was every promise we made to each other and how easily he had forgotten.
I bite on the pillow and let out a frustrated scream, knowing that no one in the house would hear me with the loud music playing. The second I do, I regret it instantly as the sharp pain ricochets straight to my temple causing me to wince and let out a muffled cry.
I begin to open my eyes again, forced to face reality. My cell sits beside my night stand, dead and unable to turn on. Your own fault.
Leaning over the side of the bed with great difficulty, I remove my iPad from my bag. Dragging it up and into my lap, I shuffle into a sitting position and tap on my inbox, reading an email sent from Nina.
Emerson,
I know you’re angry and not taking any calls. You know I don’t like to take sides, I work for both you and Wesley.
But he’s an idiot.
I have negotiated a deal with the photographer and have our lawyers drawing up contracts now. 2 Mill and he’s gone. It’s our only way out of this.
Talk when you’re back at home.
P.S I spoke to Wesley this morning. He has been trying to call you.
The temptation to throw my iPad across the room is too great. But I’m done throwing my expensive electronics away because of what he did. Two million dollars? Fuck! Money that we worked hard for down the fucking drain. I didn’t even want to think about how that affected our investments, the last thing on my mind right now.
I could tell by Nina’s tone that she hadn’t slept. Probably the biggest scandal to rock her portfolio since one of her clients impregnated some illegal immigrant that babysat his kids.
My head falls back onto the headboard. I had two choices here: work with Nina and fix this fucking mess or bury my head in the sand like an ostrich. There were so many things to think about but my head is aching and my stomach begins to growl, surprised that it had an appetite given the amount of alcohol in my bloodstream.
I climb out of bed knowing there was no way I could continue to just sit here and do nothing. If I snuck downstairs now, I could possibly avoid Logan. I didn’t even ask where he, Ash, or Alessandra were staying. Too caught up in my own mess to think about it. I assume they were staying here—the thought making me want to retreat back into bed. There is no chance in hell I could look at Logan again. We could also kiss our friendship goodbye. Last night was many things and regret is one of them.
As I step into the bathroom, I strip down to nothing and stare at myself in the mirror. The reflection shows my pale skin, a few scratches on my leg from the random creature that attacked it. I run my fingers along my collarbone and see a small bite mark on the top of my shoulder. The tips of my fingers run over the small groove and my senses heighten. His teeth, and lips, had bit so hard leaving that small purplish mark against my pale skin.
Closing my eyes, I focus on the throb between my legs, persistent and ravenous. How did I let this happen? Was this a pity fuck? It wasn’t even a fuck . . . a finger. Jesus! I got off on one finger.
Opening my eyes quickly, I twist my body and turn the faucet on, allowing only cold water. I needed to wash this away. The hurt, guilt, and desire for someone that should never ever be in my thoughts.
Logan Carrington? What the fuck were you thinking!
I linger in the cold shower blissfully unaware of my surroundings until I hear the lawnmower outside. WOW. Dad is really pulling out all the stops. Quickly getting out, I dry myself and dress in my denim shorts and a white tank with a unicorn on the front. I purposely wear my bikini underneath, hoping to catch some rays later when everyone is gone.
When Logan is gone . . . that’s what you meant.
My hair is wet and tangled, which I manage to brush and tie up into a bun. I had cut it recently to the length of my collarbone, something Wes hated because he loved longer hair.
Before I leave the bathroom, I pick up my clothes from last night—damp and reeking of lake water. Throwing them into the basin, I run the water allowing the dress to soak before handwashing the grime. Poor kitties. Their faces looked sad and riddled with guilt.
Taking a deep breath, I walk to the door and place my hand on the handle. I hadn’t thought about what I would say if I saw him. It was only 7:05 and the boys trained every morning for two hours. They wouldn’t be home till eight. That gives me 45 minutes to grab breakfast then find somewhere to hide.
So much for not being an ostrich.
I make my way down to the kitchen. Only Mom is inside, sipping coffee and reading some book with a chick on the front titled Hooker.
Great, nice reminder of your cheating fiancé.
“Thinking of switching professions?” I tease, sitting down on the stool facing her. When my ass touches the hard wood, I’m quick to flinch, uncomfortable and sore. Don’t go there. Not in front of Mom. What if she can hear your thoughts? She would forever judge you for what you allowed him to do.
Mom places the book down, careful to keep her bookmark in place. She’s dressed in a light blue buttoned shirt and white tennis shorts, her hair swept back into a tight ponytail.
“Good morning.” She smiles, sliding the box of cereal my way and follows with a cup of black coffee—just the way I like it.
“You got home late last night. I’m guessing you crawled home considering the dark circles around your eyes?”
I nod, lips pursed with my hands wrapped around the warm mug.
“I see nothing much has changed with the three of you. Instead of staying out and sneaking in candy, you’ve swapped it for rounds of lethal alcohol.”
I nod again, choosing my words rather carefully.
“Except now we have a fourth member,” I say loosely.
Mom’s eyes fall to her cup, and only now I notice she has dark circles too. They’re not as prominent as mine, but enough to notice that she probably spent most of the night crying. I feel terrible for not being a better daughter and supporting her.
“Mom, I’m guessing you didn’t have a great night either?”
She shakes her head, lips pursed just like mine. Sometimes it was like looking in the mirror. Even the way her hands wrap around the mug exactly the way mine did. To top it off, she enjoyed a strong black coffee much like myself.
“Your only son comes home and tells you he married some girl after knowing her for one minute. There goes your life-long dream of watching him get married, dressing up in some fancy suit and giving him away in front of family and friends. I don’t ask for much as a parent, Emmy, but promise me you won’t hide something that big from me.”
“I won’t, Mom,” I reassure her, hiding the guilt that riddles me. What happened with Logan would never ever happen again and would not be considered something big. A teeny tiny speckle in our drama-filled lives.
Her eyes begin to tear up, so I quickly offer to change subjects to something more light-hearted.
“So, tell me what your latest book is about?”
The expression on her face immediately changes. When Mom was asked about her writing or books, you could see the passion light up her face.
“It’s a messy love square. I know I might get some backlash fro
m readers but I can’t help but love a good love square. Triangles are so done.”
“Fun to read not fun to be in.” I smile.
Mom begins to open her mouth when the back door bangs against the wall and the sounds of Ash and Logan filter through the kitchen. I look up at the clock on the wall—7:30. NO!! There is no time to escape, so I stare at my bowl of cereal, nervously swirling the Froot Loops around the bowl and dunking them into the milk.
“If it isn’t my overly opinionated sister. Ready to apologize yet?”
Thirty minutes ago, I was all about grabbing life by the balls. But when the guy who you’ve practically known your whole life—and considered as family—is standing in the same room boring his eyes into you because he made you cum, those balls have shriveled up and climbed into your asshole.
“Of course not. Stubborn as usual.” Ash laughs, grabbing a slice of bread and shoving it in his mouth with nothing on it.
My eyes are heavy, refusing to make eye contact. I raise them slowly hopeful that Logan is not looking my way. As every inch passes, my stare traces over his muscular body, analyzing it like you’ve never seen it before. By the time our gaze meets, his wicked smirk irks me as I shift my gaze once again.
Asshole.
“Gee Emmy, you can’t even look at me. Yeah, I get it. I got married and didn’t tell you. Would you just give Sandy a chance?”
“Sandy?” I throw at him in amusement. “You nicknamed her Sandy? That’s so crass. Who are you? Danny Zuko?”
“Who the hell is Danny Zuko?”
I roll my eyes at my brother; thank god stupidity wasn’t contagious.
“Sounds like quite a night,” Mom interrupts. “How about we slow down on the drinking?”
“We were celebrating,” Ash claims. “At least, until Emmy runs off like a child and Logan has to save her. What the fuck were you thinking jumping into that lake? Have you not heard of all the shit that lurks in those waters? Jesus Christ Emmy!”
I swallow the giant lump in my throat. There’s no way Logan would have told Ash anything. Despite them being best friends, if Ash had known, he would have said something by now and Logan would have been in the firing line.
Scrap that—Logan would be dead.
“I agree with your brother, silly move. Look at this bite on your neck?” Mom runs her finger across the mark that Logan left. I can feel my skin blushing, almost breaking out into hives as Mom scans her eyes over it.
I won’t look at him. Instead, I continue to stare at my colorful bowl of cereal and pretend that each loop is a buoy. One that I could jump into and save me from the mess I allowed to happen.
“I think I got bitten too,” Logan pipes up.
He removes his training shirt, showing off his sculpted abs and defined muscles. He’s covered in sweat, but it only makes his torso look extra sexy.
You didn’t just use that word.
While he continues to stand there half-naked, my body is battling with the unusual desire to lick the sweat in between his abs, and the guilt that tells me I’m no better than Wes.
“Holy shit bro? Something got you real good,” Ash comments loudly. “You better thank Logan for saving your sorry ass, Emmy.”
“Thanks Logan, for saving my sorry ass,” I say dryly, pretending this conversation bored me when I just wanted to leave the room because the dark hole is calling my name.
“It’s okay, your sorry ass is probably grateful,” he responds without emotion, matching my game.
I stand up, pushing the stool back under the counter. I needed to clear my head. This was not how I intended to spend my time at home.
“Come hang with us today, Emmy. Sandy is out running but she’ll be back soon. We’re flying out at midnight so we need to be outta here by eight.”
Perfect. All I have to do is avoid them for thirteen hours and then I won’t be seeing Logan for a very long time.
Maybe never.
“I’d love to, but I promised a friend I would visit her today.”
“What friend?” Ash questions, arms folded as if he’s called my bluff. “The hot one, Audrey-or-something, with the perky rack?”
Logan’s reaction to the ‘perky rack’ comment says it all. With his grin fixed and eyes dancing with excitement, it’s easy to see that he’s moved past last night. Another notch on his belt.
“No,” I reply with haste. “None of your business.”
Leaving the kitchen, I quickly make my way down the hall and up the stairs towards my room. Turning the corner, and just a few meters from my door, I feel my body being held back and the grip on my arm tight and rigid.
“You can’t avoid me forever.”
I keep my back towards him, not wanting to deal with this right now. “I’m not another notch. It was a mistake, okay? Just a poor reaction to some bad news.”
“Excuse me?” He turns me around to face him. Thank God his shirt is back on. My focus moves towards the picture hanging in the background. It’s my entire family—including Logan and Aunty Reese.
They had been in our lives forever. Even Logan’s older sister, Laura, was standing beside me holding my hand because that’s what she always did. A protector who looked out for me until she left to study in Japan with her grandparents.
In just that one picture, you could see how tight our bond was. We were family—irrelevant of the blood flowing through our veins.
And then we both do this. It was wrong. So very wrong.
“What notch?” Logan growls, keeping his voice and temper unheard by the rest of the house.
“Notch on your belt. I was upset last night. You were there. Kinda like lover’s revenge.”
The minute I said it—his expression changed. His heaving chest from his angered state remains oddly calm. His mouths opens as if he is just about to speak, yet no words come out.
I take one last look at him, ready to terminate this conversation and walk away.
“Thankfully, I got a long belt. Another notch ain’t nothing to me,” he brags, winking back at me with an air of arrogance.
With just one step, his back is towards me and quickly disappears around the hall. The quick footsteps echo against the dark chocolate floorboards until they completely disappear.
Suddenly, the door to my sister’s room opens and she’s standing against the frame in a pair of oversized sweats and a T-shirt that matched its size. Sitting on top of her head is a messy bun with two pencils placed like a cross. It must be the latest fad or something.
“Ouch,” she adds with a sympathetic smile before losing attention and directing it to the cell that sits in her hand.
“Please don’t say anything,” I beg. “It was a mistake.”
Yeah. A big fucking mistake.
“I won’t,” she promises. “But only if you don’t tell Mum about this.” She pulls her sweats down and reveals a tattoo of a rose that took up most of her upper thigh. It’s quite pretty; shaded in colors of pink and blue.
“Oh. You’re dead meat,” I whistle.
“Not as much as you would be if she found out about you being a notch on Logan’s belt.”
I ignore her comment and enter her room. There’s a white plush sofa near the window where I throw myself on and think of my next move.
Tayla’s room is very bright. Decorated with purple wallpaper and black and white photos scattered all over. She really enjoyed photography, one of her passions next to texting.
“Can I borrow your phone?” I ask, hopping back up into a sitting position.
“Yeah.” She quickly scrolls on the phone then hands it to me. “Where’s yours?”
“Long story.”
I send a text to Nina, telling her I’m coming back home tonight. She replied instantly and told me to sit tight while she organized flights and bodyguards to escort me at LAX—an extra precaution given that I was alone. I didn’t see the big deal, and waited for fifteen minutes when the flight details arrived back.
“I have to go back home,” I tell Tay
la without mentioning anymore about Logan.
“Mom will be sad.”
“I know, but I have to take care of something.”
“Okay.” She shrugs, losing interest.
“Tayla.” I hesitate, sitting on the edge of the sofa with my feet firmly flat on the ground. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been around much.”
Swiveling to face me, she crosses her legs. “You’re busy. I’m busy. Ash’s busy. It’s cool.”
“It’s not cool. I should be there for you. As a big sister.”
Looking around her room, I realized that I had no idea who she was anymore. Almost like she changed overnight. Tayla’s entrance to our family came with mixed emotions. It had been me and Ash for so long then all of a sudden, a baby is thrown into our lives. By the time she began to walk and talk, we were hitting puberty and busying ourselves with all the cool things teenagers did.
Since I began the show, my life changed forever. Back-to-back filming the show plus commercials, photoshoots, interviews, and then I ventured into my own business which Wes joined me soon after. The fitness line was something I felt passionate about at the time; comfortable and affordable for the everyday consumer. I added my sparkle by throwing colors and patterns instead of your boring black workout pants. Given my popularity on the show, the demands for the clothing exceeded our expectations and made us a fortune.
From there, we branched out further. Purchasing our apartment then a small cottage in the hills which we rented out. Wes did a ton of endorsements and I was offered many which I declined at the time due to my hectic lifestyle. Add in there the social events including red carpets, award shows, and premieres—we had little time for anything else. Wes didn’t like me coming back home without him and he only visited once in three years. That would change.
It was all about to change.
I just needed to get on a plane and find a way to end the show.
And breaking up with Wes would do just that.
“The key to moving on is denial.
That, and eating cake.”
~ Emerson Chase
I fell asleep on Tayla’s couch, only to wake up soon after to the sound of a horn honking out the front of the house. My vision is blurred and worsens as I rub my eyes, exhausted and drained from all the worry and stress.
