We end the conversation and eat breakfast quietly, watching a re-run of the game on the big screen television. Seeing Ash score that final goal brings back joyous memories of that moment. He fucking nailed it.
r /> “Has anyone seen Poppy?” Emmy asks. “We kind of went our separate ways at the pub, and the last time I saw her she was telling jokes at your table, Ash.”
Ash bows his head, studying his plate before his eyes look up at me.
Oh fuck, he fucked her.
The look of guilt, I’ve seen it several times before. I can tell by the way he looks at me, warning me to not say anything out loud.
Jesus, I know his fight with Alessandra got to him but I didn’t expect this to happen.
“I think I saw her leave the pub,” he says blasé.
Emmy wipes her mouth with the napkin, leaning back on her chair. “I should probably call her. Just to make sure.”
“You know what?” Ash interrupts, slightly panicked. “She’s a big girl. I’m sure she got back okay.”
“When did you leave the pub?” Ash switches the subject to me. Fucking dick.
“Don’t remember. Was exhausted, so it’s kind of a blur.”
“Sorry, Mom and Dad,” Ash warns before turning back to me. “You picked someone up, didn’t you? Was it that blonde with the low-cut tank and short mini who asked where you were staying?”
“Which blonde?” I screw up my face, pretending to be uninterested.
“Oh, yeah,” Emmy adds with much delight. She pushes her tongue against her cheek, watching me with a wide smirk. “The blonde who offered you her room key. She said she was kinky and wanted to tie you up. Sorry, Mom and Dad.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You sooo got laid,” Emmy teases. “She would have fucked your little socks off.”
Ash laughs, stealing the last sausage from the plate in the middle off the table. “Good. You need a good screw after your dry hump. Especially after your breakup with Louisa.”
He continues to laugh at the same time Emmy’s face changes. It’s a look of curiosity, and something else I can’t quite figure out.
“Who’s Louisa?” Emmy questions, clearing her throat.
“Remember I told you about her?” Abbi intervenes. “The love of Logan’s life—”
I’m about to stop that statement until Ash interrupts, “You were about to marry her. Did I tell you I ran into her last week? I don’t know why I forgot to tell you. She broke up with what’s-his-face and asked about you.”
If that had happened three months ago, I would have gladly called her and picked things up from where we left off. But I sit here, unaffected by what he’s told me and more concerned by Emmy’s quiet reaction. I hate the fact I can’t read her, there’s a total blank expression on her face.
“Honestly, bro. She’s great,” Ash continues. “Yeah, I know I dislike her, but you were happy with her. Looking back now, I’ve never seen you happy with anyone besides her.”
“Second chances don’t come often,” Abbi says, placing her arm on mine.
“Abbi, leave the boy alone. He has time to worry about a relationship later. The next four weeks is training and games, and I don’t want anyone distracting him,” Chris says sharply.
Emerson refuses to look my way, removing the napkin from her lap. “I’m going to head back to the hotel, we have one final shoot today and then we fly out tomorrow.”
Abbi and Chris stand up, hugging her before she turns to congratulate Ash then waves across the table to me—without any eye contact—and says congratulations.
Moving her chair in to the table, she turns around and hurries out of the restaurant.
I think on my feet about an excuse, then tell them I accidentally handed her my credit card last night to buy drinks and need to grab it off her. I chase her down the street before she hops into a cab. “What was that back there?” I say out of breath.
“I’m tired.”