But as I’m going, he grabs my arm and pulls me to him so I’m pressed against the hard muscles of his stomach and chest. Damn. I can practically feel the ridges of his abs against my skin.
“Would you be mad if I messed you up beforehand?” he asks me, a lazy look in his eyes. That look that actually means the opposite of lazy. Sex with Emmett is anything but.
“Then who will do my makeup and hair after?” I ask him as he grins at me, his mouth just inches away. “You?”
“I don’t know,” he murmurs. “Maybe we won’t go to the party at all.” He places his lips at my neck and my bare skin breaks out in gooseflesh. “Maybe spending the night right here will be far more entertaining.”
I smile, my lungs breathless as his lips gently suck down the length of my neck, heading for my collarbone. Somehow, I manage to press my hand against his chest and push him back. “You have to go. It’s in your contract. And by default, in mine. And I am not wasting my dress or this hair and makeup job.” I pause, biting my lip before I realize I’m scraping off my orange-red lipstick. “Then we’ll see what happens after.”
He looks surprised. “Oh really. What happened to the whole ‘we shouldn’t do that again’?”
“I said we’ll see,” I remind him and hope he doesn’t bring up the other thing I said on the boat. That I didn’t want to develop feelings for him.
ALSO, my brain starts to yell, remember he said that he’d probably hurt you in the end. You can’t forget that!
And yet I kind of did until that moment.
Things are getting dangerous.
I step away from Emmett, needing to get out of his orbit before it warps me. “I’m going to get ready. Are you putting on a tux or just going to stand around all day like that, drinking beer?” I take the dress from the closet and head into the bathroom to get changed.
I run the tap and take a good long look at myself in the mirror. I barely recognize the woman staring back at me, the one with the thick, shiny, Pantene hair and perfectly contoured face. But I do recognize the look in my eyes.
Fear.
Fear that maybe Jackie was right. Maybe the end isn’t just a wall signed with ink. Maybe it’s a cliff I have to jump off.
And what if I do something crazy, like throw myself off of it before I’m ready?
What if what I’m feeling is completely, horribly…unstoppable?
His words ring through my head. In the end, I’d probably just hurt you.
I just have to remind myself, once again, like I’ve been doing from the start, that I’m in it for money. I’m in it for fun. I’m not here to fall in love. I’m here because it’s my ticket to a life I’ve been too afraid to go after. I mean, hell, here we are in LA, the one place I always thought my dreams would, or at least could, come true, and I’m going to a party with all the actors and crew and producers of a big network. Focus on that.
Not Emmett.
Never Emmett.
But that changes once I slip on the dress and step out of the washroom.
His eyes light up as he sees me and he lets out a low whistle. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”
I’m such a lost cause. It took a second and I’m totally giddy from the way he’s looking at me. “What about you,” I say, smacking him on the shoulder. “Mr. wears a tux like he was born in it.”
“Such a complicated name,” he says, still looking me up and down, soaking every inch of me in. Then he glances at his watch. “Too bad our ride will be here in a few minutes.”
“Good,” I tell him, quickly slipping on a pair of bright magenta heels. “I’m ready for whatever the night brings.”
And the night turned out to be completely unforgettable.
It started off with a walk down the red carpet to the event, a red carpet lined with cameras and benches of screaming, yelling fans. It was totally different than it was at the airport. This time, I absolutely relished all the eyes on me, maybe because I was feeling good about myself, maybe because I felt I was in control. Maybe because Emmett didn’t let go of my hand once. By the time we reached the end of the carpet, I actually felt like a total pro.
Then once we got inside the building, a huge ballroom, I was shuffled with a drink in hand over to every single power play and actor in Hollywood that you could think of.
Okay, that’s kind of a lie. I mean, it was everyone that was part of the CW network. But even so, I saw a lot of the actors I crushed and drooled over (and by that, I mean masturbate to when I can’t sleep at night), which was beyond cool.
What was also cool was the way that everyone flocked to Emmett. I know he feels like the world might not respect him in the way he wants, but even big-name actors were fawning over him, talking about his days on Degrassi with nostalgia, then congratulating him on his comeback. I still think the term comeback should be used rather loosely but the fact is, his peers look up to him, not necessarily as someone who is the master of their craft, but as someone who has consistently worked and never given up.
Later, when I’m done acting like a fangirl and have had one too many glasses of champagne, Emmett pulls me aside.
“I’m over all this,” he whispers, holding my arm. “Are you over all this?”
I nod. “I’m ready to leave when you are.”
“But you had fun right?”
“Oh, hell yeah I did. This was,” I gesture to the ballroom where I think I might be looking at Archie from Riverdale, “a dream come true. I don’t even think it’s sunken in yet.”
“I liked the way you handled yourself,” he says, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “Like you’ve been doing it your whole life. Perhaps this acting thing really is in your blood.”
“Hey, I told you I was serious about it. Serious enough to date you.”
He chuckles and the sound makes me week at the knees. As does the amused grin he has on while he looks at me. “We don’t fly out until late tomorrow night. How about we hit the beach in the morning, then in the afternoon see if we can do some improv.”
“What do you mean, do some improv?”
“I have connections, sunshine. Ever heard of the Uptight Citizens Comedy Brigade?”
“Uh, yes.” Like, totally one of the best incubators for comedians there is.
“Maybe we can get you on stage for a bit. I’ll do it with you.”
“You’re joking,” I tell him.
He shakes his head. “I’m not. I think it would be good for you.”
I can hardly believe it. “Remind me in the morning…if you still mean it.”
“You know I do,” he says and pulls me away. “Come on, let’s go back to the hotel.”
But when we leave the venue and get back into the Suburban, Emmett wants to stop at a late-night taco place he loves.
While the Suburban waits around the corner, we get in line with the rest of the drunken patrons. The menu is pretty simple and I settle on a deep-fried chicken taco with pickled vegetables.
“So, I guess you know LA pretty well,” I tell him, inching forward a step as the line moves.
“Did a lot of auditions here, even during Degrassi days.”
At that, the person in line turns around to look at us and see who’s doing the talking. Once they spot Emmett though, who just smiles at them, they frown, like they’re disappointed, and turn back around. They were probably expecting Drake.
“Anyway,” Emmett goes on. “I lived here for a few years before I moved to London. Did a lot of bit parts, some small roles, pilots, indie films.”
“Would you move here if you had to?”
“Of course. I love LA. Love the sunshine. Love the vibe.”
“But you still prefer London?”
He nods. “I know they’re polar opposites but I think deep down, theatre speaks to me so much more than film or TV acting. It’s…real. You’re in the moment. It’s scripted but it doesn’t feel scripted, know what I mean? You’re living it, like it’s a reality. There is no performance, only passion.”
No performance. Only passion. His words sink into me like stones.