by Kat T. Masen
“Mother!” I raise my voice in amusement.
“I was merely grateful your brother was being safe. Plus, I was glad he ran to you for advice on girls and not me.”
We both laugh, letting out a sigh as we finish.
“Thank you, Mom. For putting up with me. For writing this so I can see it from the eyes of the world rather than my own.”
“I love you, kid. No one can ever change that.”
“Ditto.” I smile.
***
It’s late. The darkness settling in with no lights surrounding us but the few street lamps and the moonlight. It’s eerily quiet, not even the sounds of the summer crickets pounding my eardrums. There’s only one sound dominating the space around us, the constant echo of a bouncing ball.
Logan’s standing in the middle of the field, dressed in a pair of white training shorts and a black tee, dribbling the ball with his feet. I watch on the sidelines for a while, admiring the way he concentrates on his footwork. His face scrunches up when he’s concentrating, repeatedly blinking until he aims the ball which lands straight in the net.
My footsteps feel like lead weights—heavy and dragging across the grass. I’m terrified he will tell me to leave him alone, exactly what I did to him in my apartment.
“You’re here.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
“You’re here.”
“Well, it’s my home.”
“It is your home,” he answers coldly.
“It’s your home, too. Always has been.”
He won’t make eye contact with me, staring at the goal with a hard glare on his face. I want to tell him I miss him. That I love him, and somehow need us to work out. But I’m terrified he’ll break me in a revenge attack for how I broke him, by telling him to leave me the fuck alone and never talk to me again.
“I was wrong,” I admit. “We were both wrong.”
“I did what I had to do.”
“Honestly Logan, you don’t make it easy to forgive you!” The anger comes out of nowhere, perhaps from the built up fear and the unknown. I hate that I want him so much.
“Why?” He turns around and faces me, eyes blazing and full of pain. “Because I fucking love you and you couldn’t see that. You were happy to continue tormenting me with your fictional relationship.”
“But I told you—”
“Yeah... yeah... heard it a million times. You’re contractually obliged to star in the show. I guess I’m the fool for thinking the smallest part of you felt the same.”
“You don’t think I feel the same? You don’t think I love you?” I grab my cell and dial the number of the head of the network—Jeffrey Marsh. It goes straight to his secretary, so I place her on speaker phone.
“Mr. Marsh is no longer with the company.”
“Huh?”
“He was dismissed today.”
“Well then, tell me who I need to speak to regarding my contract?”
“I’m not sure, Miss Chase.”
I hang up and call Cliff. “Cliff, I’m done with the show. I don’t care what it costs me to get out of my contract, I’m willing to pay whatever even if that means every last dollar I have.”
“Are you out of your mind, Chase?” he yells into the receiver.
“I’ve never been saner.” I hang up the call and will deal with the ramifications later. “No more excuses. That’s it. Now what?”
“God, Emmy. It’s more than that.”
“Then what is it?” I drag out in pure frustration, throwing my hands in the air.
“There’s no turning back with us. We’re either all in now or nothing. We can’t ever go back to the way we were... friends or whatever you call it.”
“I know that,” I tell him. “You’re part of my family. You always have been. And now I know why. This was in the cards all along, we just needed to play the game in order to realize what we’d be willing to give up. We both lost, but we can both win.”
This is it.
All or nothing.
My heart’s pounding so hard, ready to combust from the pressure of waiting for him to decide. If he tells me he’s not in, I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want him right now and that frightens me.
His head is bowed, eyes closed with his mouth tight. I watch him anxiously, the way his hands slowly open and unleash the tight fists he’s been holding. The base of his jaw lifts until his eyes mirror mine, the desperation matching my own. He moves his body in front of me, raising his hand to touch my cheek, and the second it does the spark between us stills our troubled hearts.
“I meant what I said,” he murmurs with the air escaping his lips. “No turning back. All or nothing. Marriage, babies... that whole growing-old-together thing.” He gets down on one knee and runs his fingertip from my stomach down my thigh until it stops at the scar on my knee.
“Wait,” I whisper, unsure as my heart accelerates from his actions. “Is this a proposal?”
He shakes his head with a beautiful smile. “No. Trust me, if I propose marriage there’ll be fucking fireworks and you’ll be crying like a baby.”
“I don’t cry like a baby,” I tell him with a pout, easing the nerves.
“When I pushed you off the zip-line that day, I wanted you to soar. You always amazed me with your fearless attitude. So, when I saw you scared for the first time, I was sad. It wasn’t you, and I’ll be damned to see you become that person. This is who you are… you take risks and sometimes they pay off and sometimes they don’t.”
I fall to my knees at eye level with him, wrapping my arms around his neck, desperate to close the gap between us. “You scarred me that day. A piece of you always on me. I should have known.”
“Neither one of us knew, but it doesn’t matter we know now.”
“We know now,” I beam with happiness. “So now what?”
“We show the whole world what we’re about.” His grin is infectious, spreading all over me like a warm security blanket.
How can this man be so beautiful? And mine... finally.
“And how do we do that?” I tease him with a smile.
He grabs his cell from his pocket and holds it up in the air, positioning it before he plants the softest kiss on my lips. I don’t break free, not even when the camera clicks. When the cold air touches my face and he pulls away, a smirk plays on his devious lips.
The cell is turned around so I can see the photo and in the space of seconds, he’s uploaded it.
It’s us.
Me and him.
Logan Carrington and Emerson Chase, with the caption beneath the photo saying #Love.
We head back to the house holding hands, laughing about the time Ash got stomach cramps from drinking a can of beer he stole from Dad’s man-cave fridge when he was twelve, and ran home with a shit stain on the back of his jeans.
Mom and Dad are sitting in the living room, curled up by the fireplace reading books. The two of them are polar opposites—Mom’s reading a romance novel titled Bastard and Dad’s reading about the most celebrated sporting heroes of all time. They still manage to bond over their love for reading, snuggled into each other’s side on the big cream sofa with pillows surrounding them.
Tayla is lying on her stomach across the shaggy brown rug, no surprise, on her cell with her headphones on. She’s grinning at the screen, typing quickly then taking a selfie with George.
I swear that dog’s a traitor.
Logan places his arm around me as we sit on the sofa adjacent to my parents. Part of me wants to giggle like a teenager bringing her boyfriend home for the first time despite him practically living here. I knock into his ribs on purpose, goading some sort of reaction from him. He kisses the top of my head as I curl into his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
“Family meeting,” Dad commands, placing his book down.
“It’s weird without Ash,” I say.
Tayla removes her headphones and rings Ash, placing him on video call. “Now we’re all
here.”
“Hey.” I wave over the phone cautiously, reminding myself we haven’t spoken in weeks.
“Is that your new boyfriend?” he questions, deadpan. “Looks like a dick.”
Logan laughs as Mom interrupts, “Ashley Christopher Chase… behave.”
“We all know the truth now. Have you talked about how it will work? Emmy is in LA and Logan is contracted to England,” Tayla asks, keeping her tone neutral to avoid interrogating us.
“Actually, I’ve requested to pull out of the show. Dad’s right. I enjoy business and my heart isn’t in acting anymore. I’m sure another opportunity will present itself.”
“About Logan...” Dad announces. “I have news for you and Ash but I wanted to wait until we were all together.”
We all wait on edge, Dad taking longer than usual to reveal his news.
“The US team has picked both of you up on one condition...” he trails off to clear his throat. “You have to win this premiership. Royal Kings will negotiate your contract on those terms.”
Logan’s face beams with enthusiasm. “Are you kidding me? Because that’s great. A chance to represent our country in the World Cup trials. Shit! Ash, did you hear that?”
“Uh, yeah.” He seems less enthused, distracted by someone beside him.
“Bro, c’mon. We’ve been waiting on this for like… forever.”
“Yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “I just kinda like England. Emmy, don’t be mad, please.”
I exhale a laugh. “What would I be mad about?”
He whispers to someone beside him and then suddenly Poppy’s face is on the screen, smiling wide with a persistent wave.
“Uh… why are you with Poppy?”
Logan’s mouth is wide with a smirk. I turn to him for an answer and he continues to watch me like I’m on a short fuse. “I don’t get it.”
“I think your brother and Poppy are an item,” Mom says with a playful smile.
“But... but...” My words don’t come out. “When? How? This is insane...”
“Back when you guys visited London, over drinks and terrible dad jokes. Insane, yes... but fuck, I love this woman.” He kisses her cheek and it’s hard to ignore how happy he looks. I don’t actually think I’ve ever seen him this happy. It’s frightening, yet I’m overcome with joy at the same time. “You always said we didn’t have the ESP thing going on. Twenty-six years later, it’s finally kicked in.”
“Oh yeah,” I challenge. “What am I thinking now?”
“You’re in love with the goof beside you, and want this phone call to end so you can get laid because it’s been two weeks.”
I gasp, eyes wide in shock. “Ashley!”
Everyone laughs, even Mom and Dad despite the awkwardness of me getting laid.
When the laughter dwindles I relax enough to respond back to him, “You’re right… I do love the goof beside me.” I nudge Logan with my elbow again. “And that’s all I’ll say.”
“It’s good to see you happy, sis, even if it’s with him.” Ashley smiles through the screen. “You’ll always be my bro. Just make it official already. If you like it then you should have put a ring on it,” he chants, mimicking Beyoncé.
Logan grins, kissing my finger and leaning into the call as if it was only him and Ash.
“Soon, bro...”
One week later—they won their premiership.
And when the crowds cheered like maniacs, there in the middle of the stadium covered in mud and sweat, Logan pulled out a ring and asked me to marry him.
Fireworks and all.
My brother’s best friend, my rival, my lover.
The man who was always meant to be mine.
Epilogue
“Lights, camera, action!”
~ Emerson Chase
Season three aired and the ratings soared with the drama that had unfolded.
It had been a difficult six months, and this was the final wrap-up—the live reunion show.
Kyle and Kelly are the first to be interviewed in front of a live audience.
Anthony Carron hosts all the reunion shows on the network. An over-the-top host with a vivacious attitude and thirst for gossip. He flaunts his homosexuality like a pair of new shoes, never one to shy away from drama in his own life. He knows how to bring out the real stories, make light of situations that appear too heavy, and stands center ring when the boxing gloves come out.
I’ve been too wrapped up in my own scandal to see what others around me have been going through.
Kyle and Kelly focused on a business venture this season that went horribly wrong. Their partner bailed, taking all their life savings and investments. Luckily, the camera caught some of the fraudulent activity, and now it’s with the courts to decide what will happen.
Harley’s sexuality finally came out. A surprise to many including myself, but nevertheless, a positive step forward. He speaks about his battle with depression and how coming out has helped him deal with that. When the cameras rolled back and showed some of the pivotal scenes in this season, it’s hard to watch and even more difficult when he fights to hold back the tears on stage. Poppy and I intervene, joining him on the couch and holding his hand while he openly speaks about his struggle to finally accept himself.
There’s a short interlude until Poppy comes on. I love how excited she is, dressed in a yellow and white polka dot 1950s-style dress with white wedges. Her bright smile lights up the room, and when they call Ash out to join her, the two of them sit on the couch like lovesick fools.
“This season had lots of drama, and we can’t forget the moment in London when Ash takes Poppy to the Royal Kings stadium and she kicks the ball in. How about we watch this clip.” Anthony points to the camera and footage of the two of them roll.
I remember Poppy switching flights, leaving later which she said was because she wanted to spend more time with her family. I had no idea this went on. And when Ash gave Poppy a lesson on how to kick the ball in the net, she kicks the ball accidentally too hard and straight into his nuts. Every male in the room cringes at the sight, squeezing their thighs as the women laugh in hysterics.
“Have you recovered?” Anthony manages to question through his fit of laughter.
“Yes, the boys are back to normal.” Ash grins.
Jesus. Did he have to talk about his boys? I’m grossed out—too much information makes my stomach queasy.
“Explains why Poppy’s always smiling,” Anthony quips, the audience following with a short chuckle. “What’s happening now, with the both of you?”
“Ash is training here in the States, so we get to spend a lot of time together.” Poppy smiles.
“Is this serious?”
“C’mon, Anthony, silly question. I love this chick.” Ash moves off the sofa and gets down on one knee in front of the audience and pulls out a small box.
Oh my God!
I don’t even know if his divorce is final.
I’m glued to the screen and it’s like watching a train wreck about to happen. I can’t turn away, eager to know what happens next.
“Poppy Rose Clark… you’re the craziest woman I’ve ever met. When I’m with you, life is just better… it’s perfect. No one else can kick me in the nuts and make me smile at the same time.”
And there it is, classic Ash with non-filtered words.
“Will you marry me?”
Poppy’s face lights up with utter delight, extending her hand as he slides a unique pink diamond ring on it. The two of them kiss at the same time my cell buzzes in my hand.
Mom: FYI. Dad and I already knew this was going to happen. Calm your titties, we love Poppy.
I’m not sure what disturbs me more, the fact I didn’t know Ash was going to propose or that Mom told me to calm my titties.
“Did you know?” I question Logan as he stands beside me.
He bites his lip, keeping quiet, then caves when I use my whiney voice and tell him to answer me.
“Yes. He’s
my best friend. I promised not to tell anyone.”
I exhale, annoyed. “Nice to know where your loyalty lies.”
Their segment lasts longer than scheduled, and when they walk off the set Poppy runs into my arms as I wait for her long-awaited embrace.
“Jesus, Pop.” I grin. “Are you sure you wanna marry that dork?”
“I’ve never been so sure.”
Ash follows, elated, hugging me with a small sniff.
“Are you crying, Ashley?”
“Just glad she said yes.”
“You better treat her right or you have me to answer to,” I warn him gently, hugging my brother before I’m called on to the set.
Nervous about appearing in front of a live audience, my hands repeatedly pat my thighs while I breathe in and out to curb the anxiety that follows me. Nausea lingers in the pit of my stomach, only adding more stress to the situation.
Logan senses my trepidation, rubbing my shoulders to calm my nerves. “You’ll do great. I’m here, okay?”
I nod, wanting to get this over with. I haven’t seen Wes since the day I left the apartment, but according to the tabloids he did a stint in rehab and has moved in with another actress.
I step onto the stage, dressed head to toe in designer labels. The wardrobe crew want me in a similar dress to the one I wore when Wes and I first went out to dinner. I told them, no, settling for a white off-the-shoulder blouse and black pants. My shoes are Louboutin—a pair I want to steal and take home.
Wesley follows me on the stage and sits beside me on the sofa, keeping his distance. He looks much better, tanned and with his hair slightly longer. Rehab agrees with him, his eyes no longer clouded by dark circles.
“This was an explosive season for the two of you. Let’s watch some of the highlights from season three.”
The footage rolls of our many moments. Some sweet, and some of our brawls. I knew Logan won’t take kindly to seeing this again, he’s already watched season three despite me warning him not to. It only angers him and sent him on a jealous hissy fit, but the positive came from the extremely heated sex that followed.