The Revenge Games Duet

We finish at Poppy’s with a lovely dinner her mother prepared for all of us.

By the time we hit the road, it’s late and most of us are exhausted from a long day of filming.

Kyle and Kelly call it a night. Harley wants to go out and Wesley decides to join him. They ask me to go, but I kindly refuse hoping Logan will call.

“Why won’t you come out with us?” Wesley stands solid, folding his arms with an arrogant stare. “You have somewhere better to be?”

Harley watches the both of us. “Listen, I can go if you guys want to talk.”

“No, Harley,” I tell him, frustrated to the point where I’m no longer thinking with my head. “No point keeping it a secret since our lives are open for public consumption. Wesley and I aren’t together anymore.”

Harley appears uncomfortable but attempts to maintain composure. He’s a man of few words—dark, broody, your Charlie-Sheen-in-Ferris-Bueller’s-day-off type.

“I kinda figured that.” He rubs his hand on the back of his neck. “Not my place to comment. I just want to go for a drink and maybe pick up a British bird. That’s what Pop told me to call them.”

It’s his attempt to break the ice. I make the effort to smile at his gesture, unlike Wesley who continues to stand guarded, ice-cold.

“Maybe I should do the same, huh? Score some British bird that wants to be around me. American women are so over-the-top.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you,” I fire back, angry at his insensitive comment. “You go have your fun and I’ll have mine.”

That comment leaves him speechless, bearing down on his teeth with a clenched jaw. I walk away and head to my room, longing for peace and quiet. As I walk in the room is dead silent—the kind of silence I long for. Shifting to the bed, I lay flat on the mattress, my stomach against the fancy sheets and close my eyes.

When did my life become this drama-filled soap opera?

Like most couples, Wesley and I used to have a pretty normal relationship. A few fights, only a handful of massive blow-ups, but for the most part we got along.

Now, it’s a giant mess. If the cameras filmed our actual real lives and not the ones we pretend to portray, the fans would go nuts. This is reality. Caught in this messy love triangle with two men who rival each other for different reasons.

Boredom finds me soon after, so I post some pictures online, reply to the thousands of comments that follow instantly. Pictures from our Victoria Secret show to our tour of London. It’s been a busy couple of days with no end in sight.

Finally, I scroll through my phone and find an old picture of me, Ash, and Logan that Mom sent me recently. It was taken when we were eleven at a school carnival where the three of us were in charge of the cotton-candy stand. Mom snapped Ash with cotton candy all over his head from when Logan and me dared him to put his head inside the machine.

I type a comment beneath the photo, telling everyone how proud I am of these boys winning tonight’s game. I hold onto my smile, remembering this time with happiness. These two boys are my life, and every part of me is terrified my relationship with Logan will break us if things don’t work out.

I shut down my Instagram and call Mom. She texted me yesterday to say she would be flying in for a day to watch the game. As much as she would have loved to stay longer, she had a pressing deadline and Tayla back home.

“Hey, kid!” There’s a considerable commotion in the background. I can barely hear her over the sound of Queen blaring through the speakers.

“Where are you, Mom?”

“I can’t hear you. Hold on… okay?”

Waiting for the connection to become clearer, there’s a muffled sound then her voice feeds over the speaker again. “Okay, I’m back... phew.”

“What on Earth are you doing, Mother?”

“We’re out at this pub celebrating the win. I forgot how much I love pub crawling.”

“When did you ever pub crawl?”

“When I was a loose cannon and didn’t have three kids busting my chops.”

“I’ve never busted your chops.” My smile turns into laughter while my body begins relaxing on the bed. “Are you with Ash and Logan?”

“Yeah, I think they’re around here somewhere. I lost sight of things after the second pint,” she follows with a hiccup.

“And Dad?”