She’s probably right.
There were hordes of paparazzi lining the tight alleyway when I arrived, and the last thing I need to do is cause any more issues for Alexander or give Paul another reason to hate me.
“I’ll see you back at the hotel,” I say, standing up to give Alexander a hug. Rob also stands and helps escort him and his parents through the crowd.
My gaze follows him down the stairs as the woman on stage grabs two bottles of beer from a guy next to the stage, making the crowd go wild.
Do it. Do it. Do it,they chant, egging her on.
I see Carla covering her eyes as she rests her hand on Bruce, allowing him to guide her out through the door.
“Two beer or not to beer? That is the question!” Abbie loudly proclaims, as the woman lowers herself down on top of them.
My pant leg puts up a fight as I attempt to remove my jeans. I start wriggling out of them as Alexander turns on the lampshade by his side of the bed.
“You missed the best part,” I say, as my legs finally break free. I fold them up and head over to the armchairs.
“I hope you’re not into that kind of stuff,” he says, grabbing his phone and connecting it to the charger.
“Come on, Ryan, you know I don’t like water sports or coprophilia.”
“Ryan!” Alexander turns to face me.
“What?” I look right at him, my hand hovering above the armchair, still holding onto the jeans.
“You just called me Ryan!” His words are laced with anger.
My body feels frozen. Every muscle in my body tightens.
Oh shit.
25.Alexander
Friday
Thoughts collide, merge, blend, tangle, separate, and merge again in my mind.
My heart beats against the walls of my chest, like a trapped hummingbird in a glass jar.
Of all the names he could call me, Skater Boy, Chicken Wing, Al, Alex, Alexander, he called me by his ex’s name. Ryan. Worse, it’s the same name as Samuel’s ex. And Samuel had done the same thing right after we’d gotten together.
My body shudders at the sense of Déjà vu.
Rob bursts into the bedroom, scanning every inch of the room, before his gaze land on me.
“Everything okay in here?” He looks between me in my briefs on the bed and Christopher, collapsed into one of the armchairs with his head in his hands.
“He needs to go.” I point at Christopher, cutting him a look to let him know I am angry and hurt. His shoulders sag as he lifts his head to meet my gaze.
Rob takes three strides toward Christopher, before Christopher lifts a hand.
“Rob, I’m not going to do anything to him. Can you just sit between us, help Alex understand it was a mistake?” Fear lines his every word, but I’m too angry to care.
“Boss?” Rob diverts his gaze back to me.
“A mistake is messing up the lyrics on stage or forgetting to turn your alarm on—not calling your boyfriend by your ex-boyfriends name.” I grip the edge of the bed so tightly that my fingers begin to tingle.
Rob takes a step back, leaning up against the cabinet. The TV on top wobbles slightly before Rob reaches over to steady it.
