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“I didn’t realize he’d do that. I’m too tired to think about it. Let people think what they want. The truth will come out in nine months when no baby is on that vagina log ride.”
Poppy’s infectious laugh barrels through the speaker. “Your brother, honestly.” She sighs.
“Are you okay? You sound a bit off.”
“Who me? I just have... a nasty bug. Must have picked it up from traveling.”
“Oh, I’m sorry...” I can tell she’s distracted.
“Listen, Em… can I call you back? I need to grab some painkillers or something.”
I tell her to call me back whenever she feels up to it. Quickly hanging up the call, I dial Ash’s number next.
“What?” he answers agitated.
“Nice greeting. What’s crawled up your ass and died?”
“Nothing,” he stalls, then continues, “What’s been happening?”
“Same old. And you?”
“Training, you know, same stuff. So, are you knocked up?”
“What do you think, moron? So... how did training go today... for you and, um… Logan?”
“Since when did you care so much?” Ash snickers. “Logan bailed. He had something to do that was more important. The cunt pisses me off anyway.”
I scowl at Ash’s choice of words but wonder why Logan would ditch training. “That’s odd of him.”
“Fuck, yeah. I bet he’s off screwing Louisa since she turned up at our apartment last night.”
My stomach flips, followed by a rapid burning sensation that stops my regular breathing. I can’t believe this. He’s run back to her and here I am feeling so fucking sorry for myself because he screwed me over.
What happened in London was purely to get me into bed.
All those words—meant nothing.
Everything we did—nothing.
“Anyway, just wanted to see how you are.”
“You okay, Emmy?”
“I will be.”
***
I tossed and turned, lost in a sea of nightmares all involving Logan. When the sun came up, I went for a long run along the beach, attempting to clear my head. George came with me, chugging along and not impressed at all with an early morning run.
I’m never one to meditate but sit on the beach with my eyes closed searching for my Zen. I establish right there and then that I have no Zen.
Zen could only be achieved with a bottle of tequila.
Since it’s just after 7:00 a.m. I figure it might be too early for that and opt for a fruit smoothie. It certainly doesn’t have the same effect.
Tayla turns up just after midday, dressed in denim cut-offs and an oversized black tee. Already bored, she begs me to go out so she can explore LA. “Let’s go out, Emmy. Shopping, drinks...”
I smile at her eagerness to grow up. “Shopping yes, drinking no. You’re only sixteen.”
