The Revenge Games Duet

“We, as in you and Ash?”

“No, we as in me and my female posse.” There’s a quick pause before his laughter filters through. “Yes, me and Ash. He’s leaving Alessandra behind. Thank God.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Not sure. They’ve booked us somewhere.”

I hear my name being called again. If I don’t hang up now, Wes could walk in and all hell will break loose. “Listen, I have to go. We’re in the middle of filming. I kinda stormed off set. Then George ate my bag. Long story…” I roll my eyes even though Logan can’t see me. “I guess I’ll see you next week.”

“Till then.”

We hang up, and without realizing it, I pull my cell toward my chest and smile. Jumping off the bed, I skip outside with a brighter attitude and make myself comfortable on the sofa. Wes picks up on my improved mood and begins the same conversation we started earlier.

“So, a winter wedding. In Paris?”

Resting my hand on his knee, I smile back with my heart in a much better place. “Sounds beautiful.”

Chapter Nine

“It all begins with something small.

A trigger—warning us

something dangerous lies ahead.”

~ Logan Carrington

Flying with Ash is never easy. He fidgets constantly. Annoys you by beginning a conversation when you’ve just placed your headphones on, then forces you to remove them only to have him ask if he can eat your fucking pretzels.

He goes on and on about Alessandra. Complaining about how she makes him throw his dirty clothes into the hamper rather than leave them on the floor, or how she scolds him for dumping wet towels on the bed. Honestly, that’s something I can’t fault Alessandra on—Ash is a fucking slob and no woman has ever been successful in changing him, no matter how much pussy they give up.

We’ve flown first class to the States with the US Soccer officials wanting to meet to discuss the team they’re putting together for the World Cup trials. Chris had a lengthy conversation with Coach and there was talk about Ash and I playing for the US team.

I couldn’t believe the news. World Cup—a fucking dream.

Representing our country means everything to me, so I’m incredibly keen to get onto US soil and possibly get picked.

That, and there’s one other thing—Emerson.

Weeks have gone past without any contact, and just like we said we would, we kept it our secret. It doesn’t erase the constant reminder of that night, though. Fuck! I can’t even think about it now sitting next to Ash. Removing my headphones, I excuse myself to use the restroom, leaving Ash to watch some movie with subtitles because the fucker thought it would be porn.

It’s a short walk to the main restroom, passing the other passengers who sleep comfortably in their sleepers or are busy typing away on their laptops. The hostess greets me, offering me a beverage. I tell her I’ll take a beer when I’m back at my chair.

Inside the tiny cubicle, I take a piss then wash my hands thoroughly. Goddamn germs are everywhere, and I hate sharing such a small space. The quiet, confined area gets me thinking about Emmy again and the way we left things.

It was never my intention to finger her fucking pussy in the lake. I was angry at her for being such a bitch and turning into one of those Hollywood divas, at Ash for marrying the first girl to suck his dick, and most importantly myself for letting Louisa go.

I wasn’t thinking. Something about Emmy does that to me. She always has done since we were kids. She riles me up until I burst into fl

ames, and do something stupid just to prove a point. But we aren’t kids anymore. We’re adults.

I touched her to shut her up. To get back at Ash for being a hypocrite and making me choose between him and Louisa. I wasn’t myself that night—the anger had been bottled up for a while and coincidently quadrupled when the tabloids announced Manchester’s top player, Jared Carr, dating Louisa Hemmings.

My Louisa Hemmings.

Past. Fucking. Tense.

Louisa wanted a life with me—marriage, babies, the big fucking castle outside London where she’d make me drive past every weekend. It was a relationship I never expected to last that long, but instead, it lasted a whole two years. The majority of that time was spent hiding it from the media and with her traveling globally for work. Most of our relationship was through text messages and video chatting.