Kicking Reality

“What are you talking about? There’s no scandal,” he corrects her not knowing about Wesley’s indiscretions. I hadn’t said anything to him, keeping my promise to her intact. “And a handjob doesn’t count. It’s not cheating.”

I try to keep a straight face but let out a laugh. We’ve had this conversation numerous times and I agreed—it didn’t count.

“It counts. Believe me. Seriously, you’re an idiot,” she tells him without emotion. “You can come . . . on one condition . . .”

I shake my head glancing at Ash. “Here we go. What?”

“You don’t touch any woman and they don’t touch you.”

“Fine,” Ash agrees, wincing and letting out another loud belch. “Excuse me. I need to use the restroom.”

He bolts to the restroom leaving the two of us alone at the table. The remaining patrons had vacated the premise, leaving only the two of us and the waiter in the room.

“So, does that rule count for me or am I free to do whoever I please?”

She glances up from her plate; her blue eyes wild and staring at me with curiosity.

“You’re free to do whoever you please. You’re not tied to anyone.”

“I’m not,” I say freely, keeping my gaze fixed. “So, what’s the deal with you and Wesley?”

“No deal. We’re just filming.”

“As a couple?”

“For the sake of the network. Yes.”

“But you live together?”

“Technically, yes.”

I remain quiet, unsure of why my heart rate spiked and why my fist is clenched on the table. She stares blankly. The unanswered questions swirling in my mind drive me to the brink of insanity, but I had no right to put her on the spot because she had her life and I had mine.

“Go on. Ask the question. You want to know if we’re still sleeping in the same bed or if I’m fucking him. Right?” She waits for my response, irritated that we were talking about this. “The answer is no, Logan. I don’t fuck him.”

“I never asked that.”

“I can see it burning the tip of your tongue. He cheated on me. He was the one that broke our relationship,” she reminds me.

“Interesting. Were you not the one that just told Ash that handjobs classed as cheating?”

“Yeah, so?” She shrugs.

I lean in closer, purposely making her uncomfortable. “So me fingering that tight little pussy of yours is not cheating?”

I expect her to blush, squirm in her seat, and make this moment awkward. But of course, Emerson Chase had to have the last word—the only woman to never back down.

“In my mind, we were already broken up. So get of your high horse because you getting me off meant nothing more than that.”

Fuck. Me.

Ash thunders back in complaining that his ass would burn for days and now he knows what it feels like when women complained his dick was too big.

It was enough for Emmy to almost throw up at the table.

We call for the check before making our way outside. There’s two men wearing baseball caps standing at the opposite side of the road. They keep to themselves though look in our direction every few seconds. LA swarmed of paparazzi; a reason why I hated visiting this place.

We chat briefly about tonight; Emmy agreeing to pick us up at eight. The networks organized a limo expecting a huge viewership with this episode. She told us that she would need to let them know we were riding and if the footage was to air—our consent as well.