Page 6 of East (The Moral Compass 3)

Drake.

“What the hell are you playing at?” he grumbles as he grabs my wrist and starts to pull me away from the crowd gathering.

“He grabbed my thigh. Right by my flower. Nobody touches me without consent. You should know that,” I spit back at him.

“And why should I know that?” he asks.

“Because you know my family. You know my brothers. You were at the house in London. I saw you. Remember? By the pool? But you just ignored me like you’d never met me before. Now, for the love of God, take your fucking hands off me before I kick you again,” I rant.

“I will let you go when you stop yelling and fighting. Just chill the fuck out, East. You are attracting attention. Attention I don’t fucking want,” he barks into my ear.

Shit! This is a completely different side to Drake. I never knew he could be so fucking boss and oh so fucking alpha.

“Get that prick out of this casino and tell him he is fucking lucky to still have his balls,” he orders one of the security staff.

A satisfying smile appears on my face. I can’t help it. Drake actually recognises that I can look after myself. He still hasn’t admitted to seeing me in London though.

“I need somewhere private.” He looks to one of the other security guards.

“Over there, sir.” He points to a door marked ‘private’.

The next thing I know, the door is pushed open, and I am thrown inside. I turn to look for Chelsea, but the door is shut before she can enter.

“What are you doing here, East? If you’re here working, then you need to go home. I’m dealing with this, okay?” he says crossly.

“What the hell are you talking about? I don’t understand a single word you just said.”

“Yeah, of course you didn’t. So, your brothers haven’t sent you out here to ‘assist’ with the tech side of things?”

“No. They don’t even know I’m here. And why have you locked my best friend out of the room?”

“Your best friend doesn’t need to know what is going on here, East, and you need to go back to New York now.”

“Like hell. I’m not going anywhere. We came here to see you in concert, and that’s what we are going to do. I don’t know why you’re all arsy about me being here. Fuck. It should be me that’s angry. You never even left me your number. I woke up, and you were gone. So, listen here, Drake. I am staying, and I am going to come to your concert with my friend because she wants to see you sing. Then, and only then, will I go back to New York.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Just stop with the shit, Drake. You really don’t want me to phone West and tell him what a shit bag you really are, do you? You know he will have your balls as earrings for Sutton’s birthday.”

“For fuck’s sake, East. Just stop talking. You don’t understand,” he says again.

“Oh, I understand perfectly. I wouldn’t be here, but my friend wanted to come. I will watch your show and go. Now, if you don’t mind. I’m going back to the tables to win some more money.”

I pull on the door handle. It turns, but the door doesn’t open. It’s then I realise Drake is holding the door shut. His eyes bore into mine, his face getting closer. His lips are so close that if I tilt my head, they will touch mine.

His thumb strokes the side of my cheek gently as he dips his head even closer. So close…

Bang, bang, bang!

Drake steps away and shakes his head.

“Fuck, East. That was too close. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay? That can never happen.”

“Drake? Drake! Who are you in there with?” someone shouts through the door.

“East, you’re going to have to hide. The paps are outside, and I don’t want to be photographed with you. Just hide and stay here until your friend or security comes to get you.”

I nod. I know he’s right, so I find a hiding place behind a curtain. This is fucking stupid. But if the two of us were pictured together and connected, West would make sure we were never even in the same country, never mind let me attend one of his concerts. West detests Drake. This is why I was also shocked to see him at the house.

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