Home > After All(38)

After All(38)
Author: Karina Halle

“Give us some space, please,” Emmett says through his smile, even though his eyes are flashing dangerously. He holds me tight, keeps me back from the cameras. I can totally see why actors end up breaking lenses because this shit is unreal and completely disorienting.

Somehow, we make it out with our bags and are ushered into a waiting Suburban hired by the network. It’s only when we start pulling away from the airport and into the LA traffic, that I remember how to breathe.

“Are you okay?” Emmett asks me, holding my hand while he looks me over.

I nod. “Yeah. Just. Wow.” I take in a deep breath, trying to get my head on straight.

“Fucking vultures.” His voice is laced with anger. “They treated you like you were a piece of meat.”

I personally don’t see Emmett pissed off very often but I have to say I’m touched by it. “I guess that’s the good part about shooting in Vancouver, you don’t have to put up with this.” I gesture to the city as if it’s some singular beast intent on harassing him.

He sighs and leans back in his seat, closing his eyes. “Yeah. It’s funny. Working on Degrassi, I really thought it was my big break. I mean, it was. In Canada. But people quickly forget. And when it was over, I assumed I would go on to bigger and better things.” He pauses, licks his lips. “You know, I wanted this. What happened back there. I wanted the fame and the glory and all of it. And now…is it really worth trading your soul for?”

I look him over curiously. “You traded your soul?”

He looks out the window and nods. “In a way. I think everyone does in order to get what they think they want.”

“What did you trade away?”

After a few beats he says, “Respect.”

“But people respect you.” But as soon as the words leave my mouth, I’m not exactly sure if it’s true. Autumn had mentioned how he isn’t well-respected. And judging by the paparazzi show at the airport and what they write in the tabloids, the media certainly doesn’t respect him either. “You’re a good actor,” I say feebly.

He gives me a wry smile. “Oh really? What have you actually watched me in?”

The truth is, it’s been nothing lately. I can’t even watch Boomerang because it’s so damn weird to see him on the screen. “I liked an indie horror movie you did a long time ago.”

He lets out a sharp laugh and slaps my knee. “The one with the killer bees?”

“Yeah. What was it called, Buzzed Off?”

He shakes his head. “Oh man, I’ll never live it down. I do have to say, working with bees all day did give me a deep appreciation for them.”

“I’m sure it did.”

“Well, let me tell you…it’s not that people don’t respect me. They do. I act well enough. The shows I do at least stay on the air. I’m not doing, like, porn. Bees aside, I’m not ashamed. But I lost a lot of respect for myself.”

“Why?”

His tongue peeks out between his lips as his brows furrow, deep in thought. After a beat he says, “In hindsight, I should have stayed in London. I should have stayed in the theatre. That’s really the only time I felt happy. I felt real and alive and fucking thriving, you know? It wasn’t until you came along that I started to feel happy again.”

Bam. My heart stills inside my chest, a cage of butterflies just dying to open.

Holy.

I swallow, the sound audible in the car. “You…I make you happy?”

He glances at me, a quiet smile tugging the side of his mouth. “Yeah. You do.”

“Real or fake?” I ask whisper.

His features soften. “Real, Alyssa. Very, very real. I know this is…” he glances up at the driver who seems to be minding his own business before looking back to me with yearning eyes, “I know this is complicated and not necessarily what should happen but ever since I met you, I’ve had something inside me wake up. You don’t know how grateful I am for it.”

Holy crow. I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know how to feel. My heart is blossoming inside me, opening like a flower to the sun.

Don’t catch the feels, I remind myself. But I think it’s already too late.

“Anyway,” he says after a moment, letting go of my hand and running his fingers through his hair. “That’s the way it is now. You spend your whole life wanting one thing and then you get it and realize it’s not what you want at all.”

I clear my throat, still gobsmacked by his confession. “Maybe because what you want and what you need are sometimes totally different.”

“That’s true. So tell me, when this is all over…I mean, in the future…and you have what you want,” he means the money, “will it really be what you need?”

I shrug and watch as the tall spires of downtown LA roll past. “I won’t know until I try. But I have to try. And you had to try too. You’d never know otherwise. You have to go up for the role you want to find out if you need it in the end.”

“So clever, tying this all into an acting metaphor.”

“A clever blonde,” I joke. “So rare.”

“No,” he says, his fingers pressing against my chin and tilting my face toward him, “You’re rare, Alyssa.”

The way he’s looking into my eyes, so deep and searching and startlingly intimate, unnerves me to the core. I’m not even sure how to handle it.

“I’m not used to sincere Emmett,” I joke, feeling like it’s all too much. “When does the dirty-talking one come back?”

For a moment, I think I see a flash of disappointment in his eyes, but then they melt, all warm and crinkly at the corners as he breaks into a cheeky grin. “That will come later.”

First though, we have a party to attend. Our plane landed in the afternoon, so as soon as we’re checked into our poolside cabana room at the Roosevelt Hotel in Hollywood, we immediately started getting ready. And by we, I mean me. I ordered a Glam Squad crew to come over and do my hair and makeup while Emmett relaxed out on the balcony, sipping on beer. And of course, all the girls wanted to talk about is Emmett.

I know I should have waxed on and on about our relationship and how great he is and how he’s changing and all the things I’ve been getting used to saying. But the truth is, I didn’t want to say that shit anymore. It didn’t quite feel right. I didn’t feel like I had to explain that Emmett was “better” with me, when he was fine before, just acting like a human being. I didn’t want to go on about how in love we are, because suddenly the real concept of love between us seemed so fragile and sacred. Once upon a time, it didn’t seem like a possibility at all, but I’m starting to realize that these feelings I’m trying so hard not to catch might be no match for my body in the end. I always assumed my heart had built up some sort of immunity but I’m no longer sure that’s the case.

He’s in my veins, in my system, slowly working his way to my heart.

I do have to say, all their questions and comments about Emmett made me forget how nervous I am about tonight, especially when I see the finished product in the mirror. I look pretty much as I did at Jackie’s wedding, the night I first snagged Emmett, but a lot more…spicy.

“Wow,” Emmett says to me as he steps in from the balcony, casually holding a Corona by the neck. “You look fucking fantastic.”

The Glam Squad girls all coo and blush, as if he’s complimenting them. I mean, I guess he is, it’s their handiwork that’s transformed me from average girl to Brigitte Bardot, but from the way his eyes stay fixated on me, I know I’m all he sees.

Then they leave and we’re alone.

My pulse starts to quicken and I can’t figure out if I’m nervous again because of the event we’re going to or that for the first time I’m alone with him in a hotel room.

“I should get dressed,” I say to him and start heading for the closet where I hung up my dress. I went shopping the day I found out about this event. Emmett was insistent on paying for it since it’s his event and all, so I gladly took his credit card and had a field day at the mall. In the end though, I eschewed the high-end designer labels (that’s more of Jackie and Will’s thing) and settled on a long, neon-yellow dress from the department store. I know it’s super bright but I figured it’s LA and I’ll probably stand out anyway in a sea of size zeros, so why the hell not make a statement?

   
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