Kicking Reality

Lex bows his head, hiding his smirk while Noah stands there mirroring Haden.

“Good,” Haden responds. “We’ll leave it at that since your fiancé is over there.”

I turn my head around to where Haden points to. Low and behold, Wes is surrounded by a group of people, mainly women, desperate for his attention.

“Ignore him, please,” I say bored. “Lord knows I do.”

“So, Emerson is here with her brother, Ashley Chase and his friend Logan Carrington.” Scarlett sways the conversation, detecting my annoyance.

“I’d love to meet them,” Lex speaks up. His voice is so masculine yet smooth. “I’m a huge Royal Kings fan.”

“Sure, if you can pry them away from the Playboy bunnies,” I joke.

The three of them laugh. “Easier said than done, right?”

I continue to chat for a few more minutes before Josie finds me and requests that I head on outside to film some additional scenes with a few Hollywood big names at the party.

I quickly excuse myself, promising Lex that I would find Ash and Logan and send them his way.

We set up outside—where I place my mic back on—and film for another hour. Our discussion revolved around weddings and my relationship with Wesley. I couldn’t have thought of a more mundane topic, but Cliff gave the camera crew strict instructions to film me discussing my wedding plans. Fictional wedding plans since we weren’t getting married!

I made sure I didn’t have any alcohol in hand while filming, but when a waiter walks past with a tray of drinks, I reach out and grab a glass, downing it in one go when Josie uses the restroom.

This wedding talk did nothing to curb my anxiety. Every time I thought about it, I resented Wes even more. I bet he wasn’t being filmed talking about the weddin

g because he is a guy. Fucking sexist.

Karl has now joined Josie, and asks me to walk back through the house and find Wesley so we could finish up taping. I keep on walking and stop just shy of the firepit where Logan is sitting next to some woman. He hands her a wine and despite the bullshit he said earlier—she’s a fucking blonde.

In the corner of my eye, I see his gaze shift to meet mine. I quickly move on, ignoring the jealously building up inside me. You have no right to feel that way. Ignore . . . ignore . . . IGNORE.

Inside the house, Karl moves the camera around the room to capture what I’m witnessing. I continue walking, pretending Logan’s behavior didn’t affect me whatsoever because it shouldn’t, and I was terrified the camera would pick up my irrational emotions.

Wesley has moved to the main living room, cosied in the middle of women only. There appear to be no men surrounding him, and oddly, it bothers me more than it should. I still cared about him. I hated admitting that.

“Here’s my baby,” he slurs. “Come sit on my lap?”

I don’t sit in his lap, rather ask the skank beside him to move over.

“Did I tell you girls how much I love her? She’s going to be my wife.” He laughs, grabbing my neck with his hand and pulling my lips towards his. I see him pull back, a mixed look on his face. “You smell different.”

My instinct is to sniff my armpits, but the more he stills, the more I become paranoid. I shouldn’t smell of anyone . . . Logan hadn’t been on me. Stop being so paranoid.

“I’ve been mingling with everyone. Hugging everyone.”

He continues to watch me, then follows through with a laugh. “Oh, yeah.” Sliding his hand up my thigh, he leans into my ear. “I don’t care what you want. I’m going to fuck you tonight.”

“Stop it,” I tell him, pushing his hand aside. “You’re drunk.”

He leans back in, and I know the camera can’t hear well over the noise. Wes strategically removes his mic. There’s a commotion near the entrance, a fight between two men. Karl turns to face them and film.

Wes grabs my thigh, applying tight pressure. “You think someone else can touch you? Then think again. You’re coming home with me and the second we walk through that door, I’m going to take back what is mine. I’m done waiting for you.”

His demand to take me without my consent angers me beyond belief. How dare he! He thinks I’d so easily forget what he did? I know I’m not thinking straight. I know the champagne is not only expensive, but rather potent clouding any rational thoughts or any ability to remain civilized. He didn’t own me. No one fucking owned me!

“You’re a jerk. I’m not coming home. So do whatever the hell you want!”

I storm off, looking for Ash and Logan. I search everywhere, Karl trying to keep up with me, calling my name frantically. I see Ash huddled in the corner with his head buried into some girl’s neck. I stomp towards them, quick to pull him out.