There’s a commotion in the hall. The familiar voices of Kyle and Kelly move towards us. Kelly picks up on the heated air between us, suggesting we head outside as she pulls me along quickly leaving the men behind.
The automated doors open and the photographers begin snapping. I tell her to stop midway to the car and pose for pictures. Sometimes, it’s best that we did this rather than they get unauthorized shots that could be construed as something else.
The men walk outside and towards us. I don’t know why I call Wesley over, maybe because I began to panic that Logan and me being anywhere together was raising red flags.
I pull his arm towards me and wrap my hand around his waist, placing my left hand on his chest to purposely show off the engagement ring.
The paparazzi click away in a frenzy, asking a dozen questions that we don’t answer.
The four of us tell them we’re done, entering the limo that waits along the sidewalk. As I climb in, Wes stops me and brushes his lips against my ear.
“I can play nasty, Emerson. Remember that.”
The smile on my face fades.
Reality kicking me like a force of nature.
Poppy’s parents’ place is cute and not at all how I imagined. It sat just outside of the small town they lived in—a quaint cottage that was built by Poppy’s great-great grandfather. Aside from her parents that resided in the house, her teenage brother also lived there.
Poppy’s mom, Delia, is the loveliest lady I had ever met. A spitting image of Poppy but with orange curly hair that appeared wild and unruly. She offered us a cup of tea and some scones while we all settled in the cosy living room.
Cliff is standing beside the fireplace, directing everyone to sit down. He strategically places all the couples together, leaving Poppy and Harley separate. The only person not here is Farrah.
Aside from the fact that Farrah wouldn’t be caught dead in this house (her words), Cliff purposely left her out to stir conflict between her and Poppy. A stupid idea since Poppy wasn’t the type of person to get riled up over something like this. She was breezy and just enjoyed her life without too much drama.
“Okay, Delia, you can tell everyone the story about Poppy losing her virginity to the milkman. The fans will love that.”
“You lost your virginity to the milkman?” Wesley laughs.
Cliff stops him, annoyed. “Save it for when the cameras are rolling, will you?”
Poppy leans over and whispers to the group. “He was the milkman’s son. He brought us fresh milk every day.”
“We’ll do a quick tour of the town, give the local businesses some exposure, then we’ll come back here and watch the game.” Cliffs shuts his folder, removing his glasses.
“What game?” Wesley questions him.
“The fucking game. Royal Kings versus Manchester.” Cliff appears highly strung, more so than normal. “We spoke to the networks and got approval to show footage. I think it’ll be good if they win given Ashley and Logan make an appearance in this season.”
“They do?” It’s my turn to ask the questions. “They agreed to that?”
When I signed my contract three years ago, I strictly stated that my family were not to be filmed. It surprised me that neither Ash nor Logan had mentioned this to me.
“They did. So that’s the plan. Karl,” Cliff yells across the room. “Turn the cameras on.”
The cameras begin rolling and we take cue, conversing over Poppy’s wild childhood. The scene took about an hour and then we proceeded to head into town. The town itself consisted of four stores: a bakery, grocer, post office, and gift shop. Poppy had a story to tell with each one, some funny and some nostalgic.
By the time we headed back to the cottage, it was game time. I had been nervous all day, praying that last night didn’t affect Logan’s game. Ninety minutes of angst. Logan scored the first goal but was soon trumped by the opposing team scoring their first goal. An hour later, it was still a tie and my head was glued to the TV.
“This is game is so boring,” Wes yawns beside me.
“Will you shut up? You’ve said that three times,” I hiss.
With ten minutes to go, Ash bounces off Logan and with a bold kick, Ash shoots the winning goal. I jump up at the same time as Poppy, screaming at the TV in excitement.
The crowd goes wild, the cameras zooming in on Ash as he falls to the ground elated. The coaches are jumping inside the commentary booths; the only people not celebrating are Manchester. This was a decider game and now they wouldn’t make it to the quarter-finals.
Even Cliff is happy; a rare moment of him cheering them on behind the cameras.