Stanton Box Set

I turn to see what he is doing and I see him marching towards Max on the other side of the large room. Oh shit. I take off after him and catch up just in time to hear him snap,

“Leave, before I kick your ass.” Max narrows his eyes and glares at Joshua.

“Joshua, don’t speak to him like that!” I gasp.

He turns on me like the devil himself. “I will speak to him any damn way I want to, Natasha. I will not sit here in the same room as this,” he looks him up and down, “traitor.”

“Joshua, just because Max helped me to get home to Australia does not mean he is a traitor to you. He tried to get me to go back to you continually,” I reply nervously.

He steps back in disgust and Ben walks over. “Is there a problem here?” Ben asks as he gently grabs the back of Joshua’s elbow.

Joshua runs his tongue over his front teeth again as he glares at Max, then he turns back to the others. “Get rid of him,” he snaps as he walks off.

Max glares after him.

“You had better leave,” Ben remarks quietly to Max as he scratches the back of his neck.

Max’s eyes flick to me for approval. I can’t believe he just said that. I look over to Joshua who is blatantly furious. His hands are in his pockets, his legs wide, still glaring at Max while his brothers try to talk to him.

My eyes flick nervously between the two men. “Max, maybe you should go—there is enough security. I don’t need any more drama than I’ve got. Sorry,” I whisper.

Max bites his lip and nods. “Make sure Natasha has a guard with her till she gets home,” he says to Ben.

Ben nods and shakes Max’s hand, “Good to see you man.” He smiles.

Max then walks over to the lift and disappears downstairs. I stare at the closed doors behind him. Who in the hell does this guy think he is? He marches in here like Fabio, refuses my kiss, tells me not to touch him and then tells my bodyguard he’s going to kick his ass if he doesn’t leave. I stomp back to the others where Wilson grabs me affectionately around the neck in a headlock. Joshua stands still, his hands in his pockets, glares at him and raises a brow. Wilson immediately drops his arm from me. Oh right, so Wilson isn’t allowed to touch me either. Unbelievable.

“I’m getting coffee,” I snap

.

“I’ll come too,” Bridget smiles as she grabs her bag. As soon as we get into the lift Bridget starts to jump up and down. “Oh my god. I have to ring Abbie.” She pulls out her phone and starts to text. She reads out what she texts: “Hot. Hot. Hot. Smoking fucking hot.” She laughs out loud for the first time in days. She continues to text as she reads out loud: “Mr. Stanton is back in town.” She wobbles her stupid head around to accentuate her point.

I glare at her deadpan. “You’re such a loser. Did you hear the attitude he was giving me. Hello … Newsflash. He played up on me the asshole. He can’t come back here throwing me orders. Who in the hell does he think he is?”

Bridget smiles and bites her lip as she hunches her shoulders. “But you are in the same room as him.”

“So,” I answer flatly.

“So, who knows what could happen? You could be having passionate make-up sex. Maybe later tonight even.” She widens her eyes as she puts her hands above her head and does sparkle fingers in excitement.

I roll my eyes. “Are you on crack?” I snap. The doors open and I march into the foyer. I find two security guards waiting for me. Bloody hell, I am sick to death of these guards everywhere.

Half an hour, a huge chocolate and a cup of tea later I have calmed myself down to simply just rage and have devised a make-it-through strategy with Bridget. I’m going to wait for him to talk to me. I tried to kiss him first and he brushed me off. I am not going to appear needy. So the ball is in his court—I’m not begging. No fucking way. I am going to be cool, calm, collected and totally self-absorbed … just like him.

The thing about waiting for a mule to apologise is that it’s ridiculous. I have never met a more stubborn … more annoying, pig-headed, utterly gorgeous bastard in my entire life. He has not made eye contact with me in four days. I’m not talking passing each other in a corridor and looking the other way kind of eye contact, I mean sitting opposite each other in a circular lounge in a hospital waiting room, where he refuses point blank to even look at me. I sit on the floor next to the coke machine with Wilson as I watch Bridget and Joshua talking on the lounge. She’s telling a story and being all animated, he is leaning back on his chair with his head on the cushion, his legs are spread wide and he’s laughing. Cameron, who is sitting opposite them, is laughing too—what are they talking about?

Wilson’s eyes gaze at where I am looking. “You ok chick?” he asks quietly.

I nod and smile. “Yeah.” I bump him with my shoulder. “You?”

He smiles and bumps me back. “Yeah, I’m ok.” His eyes look over at Josh. “Have you spoken to him?”

I drop my head. “No. He won’t even look at me.”

He nods solemnly. “He will come round.”

“I never wanted to hurt him Wils, I loved him,” I sigh.