She types ridiculously quick and the message appears.
Tayla: Exams. A boy. London with the parentals would have been lame. Need I say more?
I smile, easily forgetting she still has to answer to Mom and Dad. You’d think they would loosen the strings with Tayla having already gone through the teenage phase with Ash and me, but if anything they’re stricter.
Me: I’m guessing Gran’s with you? Slip some brandy in her night tea and you’re good to go for three hours till she wakes up to pee. I should get some sleep. Night sissy.
She follows by sending me some random GIF making me giggle quietly beneath the soft covers. I put my phone away and will myself to sleep when my mind begins to unwind and the exhaustion takes over.
***
The boys left for training at the crack of dawn. I didn’t hear them leave, falling asleep and waking up to the smell of coffee filtering through the apartment.
Alessandra has a shift at the hospital then plans to catch the end of the game when she’s done.
She cooks me breakfast, gives me some clothes to wear and suggests I stay in case the stalker’s watching me.
As much as I would love to stay, we have a schedule to adhere to so I call Cliff and explained what happened last night. He seems genuinely concerned, organizing a car service and bodyguard to pick me up.
r />
Back at the hotel not long later, I quickly shower and change into something more relaxed. A pair of light blue boyfriend-cut jeans and a white T-shirt. I immediately place my sneakers on, ready to join the rest of the crew at Poppy’s parents’ house. With my purse in hand and a jacket in case the weather cools down, I open my door to find Wes standing outside, blocking my way.
“Is it true?” His tone is sharp, almost demanding. There’s dark circles around his eyes and his clothes appear rumpled and worn.
“Wesley, the car’s waiting downstairs. Can whatever this is wait?”
“No, it can’t wait, Emerson.”
I shove my hands in my pockets. “What?”
“That a man is stalking you?”
I purse my lips, eyes wide while nodding my head.
“And you slept at Logan’s?”
“Ash and Logan’s,” I correct him. “They live together. Ash took me home because I wasn’t safe alone.”
Wesley had no problem expressing his anger. His fist is resting against the door panel, curled into a ball with his knuckles white. “He could have brought you back here.”
“You were with Farrah,” I remind him. “Don’t pull that shit with me.”
He latches onto my arm with force. The pressure begins to hurt as I wriggle out of his grip refusing to let him intimidate me.
“Are you sleeping with him?”
I begin to panic under his firm grasp. Why on earth would he think that? Everything Logan and I have done is in private, there’s no way for Wes to find out. But the guilt and question accelerate the beating of my heart until I’m sure it will explode at any moment.
“Who are you talking about?” I play dumb, keeping my gaze controlled.
“Don’t give me that bullshit, Emerson! Logan Carrington. Are. You. Fucking him?”
“You know what...” I keep my voice low, mindful of people in the rooms surrounding us may hear, “… leave him and my brother alone. As for you and me, we’re over, Wes. If I want to fuck someone, I believe I have the freedom to do so.”
He slams his fist on the wall, damaging a painting that falls onto the ground. Great. Now we look like ungrateful celebrities that go around destroying property.
“Don’t you fucking dare think for a second you have that freedom,” he threatens, cornering me underneath his stance.