Hell Sweet, Kayla

7

ZAYN

“Why are you so irresponsible?”

Holding the phone to my ear pinching the bridge of my nose to calm down from the boiling vexation. When will he learn to stop acting like a child and grow up?

“Mum and Dad are doing everything to make sure you don’t end up in situations like this. Think of what will happen if you get kicked out of the team or worse, school. Everything you worked hard for the big leagues deal, gone.”

I pause, breathing in and out to let the words sink into his head. His excuse is they came at him and he fought back; does he think I believe that crap?

Cole has been my brother since I was twelve and I know he has anger issues which is toxic for his growth and everyone around him. He keeps blaming his father for killing his mum when indeed she died of cancer. She could not fight leukemia and he took it on the poor man.

He needs to heal or he will never go far living on reckless behaviors. But, the kid never listens.

A sigh escapes. “They won’t always be here covering your reckless track records in school. You have to own up to your attitude and fix yourself, Cole. No more excuses.” Pushing the blinds open catching the view of the street from my suite window.

Sternly. “You are not a kid anymore; so grow up… for them.” Glancing at my Cartier watch before darting my gaze to the king size bed.

I walk the short distance to the couch for my tie. “I am sending Taylor to bail you out and bring you home.”

Strolling back to the window. “You and I have some talking to do. I have a meeting to attend.” I end the call.

Blowing air out of my lips, I bury my hand in my black pant pocket caressing the tie with the other hand standing in front of the window wondering what I should do with Cole and his temper.

Dialing my PA. “Reschedule my meetings in an hour time. I will be running late.” Passing my message, I end the call.

A black s’class series pulls up in front of the hotel revealing Taylor; well, it’s about time. Hanging my tie around my neck moving away from the window to the couch.

The bell rings, my feet guide my steps to a new route towards the door pulling it open impatient to get over today’s busy schedule with Taylor.

Instead, a flashy heavy makeup girl in cleaning clothes smiles flirtatiously at me. “Housekeeping, Sir.” She says eyeing me inappropriately.

Up and down, her eyes trail past my expose collar neck to the two hundred thousand diamond watch down to my crotch in a matter of second.

The thirst and hunger dancing in her tells me she has dreamt for such golden opportunity not to slide pass her.

A moan from inside the room precisely the bed snaps her gaze into the room unaware I wasn’t alone after all.

“Come back later. I am busy.” I say noticing the way her eyes bulge in her socket. Not that of shock but fury at my comment, eyes searching for the voice.

“Anything else?” Quickly switching to professional mode, she replaces the evident annoyance on her face with a cheery grin.

“No. Sorry. Excuse me.” Crestfallen, I watch her turn and leave closing the door behind her back to the couch ignoring miss America stretching herself awake.

She moans again. This time in pains. “Ow. My head.” Picking up a business magazine lying on the table by the food tray occupying myself with it.

“You hit your head when I tried to stop you from further embarrassing yourself last night causing slight concussion.”