Kicking Reality

He continues to talk but I’m half listening. Last night was . . . I don’t know. I was bold, brave, something I hadn’t been in a long time. I took that bold me and pretty much offered to be Logan’s fuck buddy. What was I thinking? Like he needed a fuck buddy. I knew enough to know that he pretty much fucked whoever and whenever he liked. There is no shortage of fucking. Probably what happens when you’re crowned hottest athlete. I hated to admit that I sold myself short, desperate for anything to make me wild and careless.

After we both admitted that spending a night together would be harmless fun, we jumped into a cab where we made out for the entire ride to the hotel. The cab driver warned us several times that he charged extra to be a mobile sex vehicle. It was enough to break the ice, laughing for one moment and kissing heavily the next.

Kissing Logan was something else. I wasn’t the biggest fan of kissing. I mean, it’s nice and everything but I guess after years of being in a relationship, you avoid the warmup and head straight for the main show. Yet something about him was different. It was intense. Several times I found myself pulling back because he almost dry-humped me into an orgasm. This coming from the guy who had zero appeal to me weeks ago, and now, I wanted him naked underneath me while I rode him like a cowgirl hitching a ride to town.

Stop thinking about riding him. You know he is well endowed. It practically poked your eye out in the cab.

“He’s a guy, Em. Men are programmed differently than women.”

I focus on Wesley, unsure of what we were talking about. Taking a punt, I comment, “Yeah, I know. But vows are vows regardless of how long you’ve known the person.”

“You’re right.”

“You’re agreeing with me?” I answer in shock, wishing I didn’t stretch my eyes because the pain was unbearable.

“Yeah, marriage is sacred. People fuck up, don’t punish them for a lifetime because mistakes are just that—mistakes.”

I can see he is still trying to justify his behavior in Amsterdam. If I had more energy, I could have debated that topic and left a very negative vibe in this room. George had walked in moments earlier, sniffing at his bowl and staring back at me with pitiful eyes because I hadn’t put out his kibble. I knew what he was thinking: ‘There they go again, fighting over the same thing. I wish things never changed. Why is Daddy such a douchebag?’

Opening the bottom cupboard, I take out the bag and pour a small amount into his bowl. Even then, George sniffs the bowl and holds back his need to snack on the dry food. George is a peculiar dog; only eating food when everyone leaves the room and even then, he waits minutes not wanting to be caught.

“He’s your brother. That’s family, Em. Just don’t let it get to you.”

Wesley was never ‘pro’ family. His mom is a well-known gold-digger that married some billionaire and moved from Bel-Air to the South of France. Her priorities were men and money. Although Wes hated talking about her, I could tell that he didn’t approve of her lifestyle and wished he had a mother less involved in herself. I had met her twice in our relationship and each time I wondered how a woman could be so possessed by wealth. She was never shy in parading the fact that her son is a well-known star. Her only disappointment was Wes’s sister—Clara. She lives in Utah on some ranch with her husband and two sons. A stay-at-home mom that couldn’t care less about money.

Ash is something else though. Sure, I was livid that he could so easily disregard his marriage for a night but I didn’t expect him to be at the hotel—alone.

Logan pushes my body against the mirror that lined the elevator; sliding his hand up my leg and settling on the back of my thigh. His kisses were fast, desperate, and left me breathless. He did this thing where he moaned every time I grinded him. I fucking loved it, purposely doing it on repeat so I could hear his frustration come out each time.

The elevator pings and I push him away with force to the other side of the elevator, bowing my head as the doors open to hear Ash’s voice.

“There you guys are. I was beginning to worry.” He pauses, and it gives me a chance to look up. “What’s going on? Wait, did you guys get into a fight again? I swear I can’t fucking take you two anywhere. Just move on will you?”

“Actually.” I clear my throat. “There was this crazed homeless guy around the corner and he started chasing us so we ran hence why we’re out of breath.”

“Yeah,” Logan follows. “I think he had a knife.”

“A knife?” Ash stares at the both of us like we’re crazy.

We nod.

“It doesn’t explain the wig and mustache.”

“Funny story.” I laugh, trying to ease the nerves. “Our cab driver took a wrong turn and we didn’t want to head home so we went to this bar and there happened to be a costume shop. We thought why not have some fun you know?”

We step out of the elevator, Ash standing with his arms folded and brow raised.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Ash proceeds to whine. “I would have been all for dressing up like an aging porn star.”

Logan chuckles, ripping his mustache off with a pained face and removing his wig. His hair is a wild mess, and I find myself gawking at it like a fool.

“Maybe next time.”

Ash foiled our plan to get naked and join the friends-with-benefits club. It wasn’t such a bad thing. Logan and I were just crazy together. It’s like he brought out this other person in me that lay dormant and just wanted to throw all caution to the wind not realizing the amount of trouble we could get into.

I’m distracted by my phone; the vibration causing it to sound against the marble top.

We need to talk. Meet me at my hotel in an hour. My plane leaves at noon.