5. Aaron
FIVE
AARON
Six years ago
“You’ve met all of my other girlfriends, Gem. This one is no different. It’ll be fine.” I rub my hand up and down one of her rail-thin arms, trying to comfort her. Neither of us is great with change, but she’s even less good with it than I am.
“It’s completely different, Aaron. You’ve never been this level of famous before. Excuse me if I want to vet this girl for myself, but it’s not like you have a great track record with girls, even before all the publicity.”
She’s being adorably protective of me, and I appreciate where she’s coming from on this, but I make my own decisions on this kind of shit. Who I let into my life. Who I let into my bed. Gem is one of the most important people in my life, next to my parents, and of course I want her to meet my girlfriends, and for them to get along. But who I date isn’t her decision to make.
I tend to go for more… feminine girls, shall we say, and I think Gemma judges them based on their appearances, to some degree. Maybe judge is the wrong word—it’s more that she is so different from most of the ones I bring home; not putting much emphasis on her appearance, more of a chill kind of girl than a high maintenance one, that I think she can’t really relate to most of the girls I bring around. If only I could find one who was hot as fuck, dtf and also liked the same shit that me and Gem do, I’d be set on all fronts.
It’s then that the doorbell rings, and Gemma walks away, rolling her eyes. She’s already judging my girl, and she hasn’t even met her yet. I jog over to the door to let Mara in and have to bite my knuckle when I see what she’s wearing and how it displays those curves she has that go for days.
The self-satisfied look on her face tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing to me and I don’t have time to show her how I feel about it, so I settle for pulling her in for a quick kiss as a greeting and usher her inside where the storm awaits.
Mara prattles on about her drive here and the latest drama with her friend Cara. Or was it Sara? The one who’s one letter off from her own name and an almost constant source of annoyance to her friends. That chick. By the time we make it into the kitchen, Gemma is standing by the barstools at the kitchen island, one hip jutting out to lean on the counter while she takes in Mara’s hot little outfit. She stares at her so hard I wonder if I’ve misjudged Gem and she’s actually into chicks. I’m still racking my brain as to whether or not I’ve ever seen her with a guy before when Mara’s pitchy voice hits my ears.
“Isn’t it weird that your best friend is a girl?” Mara’s nose scrunches with the question, like she’s grossed out by it, but it makes her look even cuter. I think I’m getting distracted by other things I want her face, and that mouth, to do, because before I can respond, Gemma jumps in.
“We’re in the twenty-first century, Mara. It’s not weird to be best friends with someone because of their gender. It’s weird to judge someone for it.” When I hear the cutting tone in her response, I glance over at Gemma and see she’s got her eyes narrowed, her defensive mode fully in place. Time to diffuse.
“We’ve been getting this question for half of our lives,” I say calmly, like there’s nothing else to this, because there isn’t. I pull Gemma in to my side to demonstrate how familiar our friendship is, and how little Mara needs to worry about it. “This gal right here is like my sister. We’ve been bros since before puberty. Even if you can’t tell she’s hit it yet.”
Couldn’t resist the jibe. I give her a smirk and rub my hand on top of Gemma’s head, tousling her hair and fucking up her bun pretty good. She scowls up at me from underneath the rat’s nest I just created on top of her head. Not sure if that look is from me fucking with her hair or the dig at her androgynous body. Eh, whatever. “But that’s just how we are. Bros. Nothing more.”
The thought of more sets in and a picture pops up in my mind of all the things Mara and I did last night, but with Gem instead, and a shudder rolls down my spine in response. “Just…ew. No thanks.” I think Gem might also shudder at the thought, because her shoulders fall the tiniest bit underneath my arm, her posture slumping, making her slight frame even shorter, smaller. I wink at Mara to make sure she really knows she’s got nothing to worry about where Gem and I are concerned.
Gemma pulls herself out from under my arm and scoffs, jerking her thumb at me. “This kid? As. If.” Her expression looks more sour than defensive now, and I guess the thought of being with me really grosses her out, too.
I pull Mara in close to me, pressing the fronts of our bodies together, sliding one hand around behind her to cop a quick feel, and giving her a look that tells her all the things I wanna do to her that I’ve never done—and will never do—to Gemma, and I think she’s appeased. Wrapping one hand behind her head, I pull her in for a deep kiss by the back of her slender neck, and when we come up for air, Gemma is nowhere to be found.
The quickie helped. Even if it was after my last shot of the day, thanks to the change in schedule, at least I got to bask in the glow of my girl’s affection, and I feel close to normal again.
I think tonight is going to go a lot smoother than meeting Mara and most of the others have gone. I’m still a little nervous for them to meet, but at least I know Kayla isn’t using me for my status and connections, as Mara had turned out to be doing.
I’ve never seen Gemma so pissed as she was when Mara’s intentions came to light. Honestly, her absolute rage on my behalf soothed most of my own anger on the topic. All that was left behind after the dust settled was pretty much mistrust of strangers who want to be a part of my life.
But Kayla’s not a stranger. We had some mutual acquaintances, and had seen each other around at industry parties for a good few months before we started talking, and eventually dating. She’s not an actor, but she is an Instagram model with a decent following, so she has a taste of what my life is like. If she were after me for my connections, something tells me she would’ve aimed a little higher. Plus, Kayla’s faced her own troubles during her bout with celebrity. I feel bad even putting her motives under the microscope, because she really is a sweet girl.
Some might call it trauma from past relationships, I just call it the story of my life to be cautious when introducing new people into my world. And no one is more cautious for me and my best interests than my Gem.
I finish making three drinks on top of the bar cart in the living room and manage to carry all of them across to the larger kitchen island between my two hands, without spilling a single drop. Natural talent, I tell ya. I place them on the marble countertop there and slide Kayla’s vodka tonic over to her before I bring my Old Fashioned to my lips as she does the same with hers. Pretty sure her sip is for courage, though, whereas mine is mostly to relax. The last of today’s scenes was pretty emotionally demanding for me, to say nothing of the other stresses of my day. The almost hour-long drive from the studio out to the Blue Ridge mountains, my haven on the outskirts of them, helped relax me a bit, but this will be even better.
“Babe, do you promise she’s going to like me?” Kayla’s silky voice wheedles me for more reassurance, though I’ve told her probably a dozen times today, after she’s already heard close to half of my history with Gem over the past few weeks and surely knows her nearly as well as I do after all I’ve shared.
“How could she not? You’re amazing,” I tell her. “And even if you weren’t destined to be the best of friends, the fact that I like you is all that matters.” I give her a wink and lean in to kiss that spot just below her ear that makes her—yeah, absolutely crumble, just like that.
Her hand comes up to rest on my arm and her soft giggle in my ear is giving me all sorts of ideas for a round two, but we’re interrupted by the sound of keys plunking on the marble countertop behind me.
We break apart abruptly and the moment is definitively put on pause by the look on Gemma’s face as she stares at us. Not exactly cold, more like assessing. Disbelief, being overtaken by realization, perhaps? Maybe I’m reaching, but after years of casting calls, auditions, and having my emotions dragged out through random words yelled at me from directors, I think my guess is pretty good. Not sure why she’s got that look on her face though.
She drops her small bag on the counter next to her keys and jerks her head in greeting at Kayla. “Hey. I’m Gemma.”
I see the way Kayla’s eyes quickly move past Gemma’s looks before landing—and pausing—on her keys on the counter. Did I not tell her that Gem has keys to my place?
“Kayla, Gemma. Gemma, Kayla.” My hand waves between the two of them as I introduce them, and it takes a second for Kayla’s eyes to leave that set of keys, but eventually a warm smile lights up her face and she reaches to shake Gemma’s hand. She looks almost relieved, like maybe she had pictured Gemma one way, like she was worried I’d lied to her about Gem’s appearance or something. I told her she is as laid back and low maintenance as it gets. Practically one of the guys. Hair thrown up carelessly, in tees and jeans is the usual for my low-key bestie, and I think it’s actual relief in Kayla’s eyes as she realizes I didn’t make any of that up.
“It’s so lovely to meet you,” Kayla purrs. “I’ve heard so much about you!”
Gem looks like it’s taking effort to be friendly, I can see the annoyance in her eyes, which isn’t a surprise given that she’s meeting yet another girlfriend of mine, after how some of the past ones have turned out. Her wariness is nothing new here. But I appreciate that she is putting that effort into this meeting and welcoming this girl into our life. And she does look like she’s trying.
A smile emerges on her own face in return as they shake hands. “Likewise.” The lie is probably to protect the fact that I hadn’t mentioned Kayla until this morning, and she doesn’t want to throw me under the bus. She’s always protecting me and I love her for it.
Something inside my chest settles at the sight of them getting along, and there’s a lightness inside me that I didn’t realize how much I’d needed until this moment.
“So you’re the one who keeps this guy on track, huh?” Kayla asks amicably.
“She sure as shit does. I’d probably lose my own ass without her,” I shoot a grin at Gemma because we both know it’s true. Aside from being my favorite person to hang out with, she makes my life a thousand times easier as my assistant, and I’d hate to think what shit would be like without her running the show.
Gem’s head falls so her chin touches her chest and some of that hair that’s loose from her ever-present bun covers part of her face in the process. She’s not a huge fan of attention most of the time, not even in my kitchen, apparently. She still manages a little nod, and a quiet “yeah, I guess so,” comes out, too.
“What’s your guys’ daily life like?” Kayla tries to start a conversation, and she looks genuinely curious, probably trying to formulate a mental picture of exactly how close we are on a daily basis, how closely intertwined our lives are. I decide to put her mind at ease by taking this one.
“Well, as my assistant, she usually comes over first thing, makes my breakfast and gets me out the door and to set on time. She helps me run lines or prep for scenes, runs interference on most of the crap that comes my way, and kind of acts as a buffer between me and all the people that need shit from me, so that I can focus on getting into character, prepping for the shots of the day or whatever else. She runs my schedule, does errands for me, all the shit I can’t do because I’m…me.”
Kayla nods eagerly as she listens, looking genuinely fascinated. Gemma gives a succinct nod to confirm my summary of our daily lives, still staying silent, lips folded in.
I expected her to interrogate Kayla, to make sure she met Gemma’s impossible standards for me, maybe to be bitchy if she felt Kayla was just using me, but none of that is happening. She seems almost disassociated from the scene in front of her, and it’s making me uncomfortable, to say the least.
I think Kayla wants to hear Gemma talk, or maybe she’s trying to become friends, because she asks more questions aimed her way, but this isn’t one I should step in and answer for her.
“So what’s your life like outside of work?”
Gemma slides the drink I made her along the counter until it’s closer to her, and takes a thoughtful sip before she answers. “Um,” she draws out the word for a good few seconds, like she really doesn’t know what to say. This non-spicy version of Gemma is freaking me out. “There’s not much to say, really. Work is a big part of my life.”
“Well what do you do for fun?” Kayla prompts her.
A small silence, then Gem’s small voice fills the space. “I read a lot?” She says it like a question. Like it doesn’t count as a pastime, as something that brings her joy.
“Yeah ya do!” I practically shout, beaming a little too brightly, then turn to Kayla to brag. “Gem here has read like a hundred and fifty books in the past year or something crazy.” I know it’s more than that and wait to see if she corrects me with the exact number. She always knows what her count for the year is to the digit. But no. Nothing.
Kayla’s eyes widen and she looks back at Gemma. “I don’t think I’ve read that in my entire life!” she says with a laugh, and takes another big drink.
When no one else says anything, Kayla continues, ever the socially gifted one of us. “So, Gem.” Something tightens around my heart, and I’m not a fan of the sensation. That’s my nickname for her, no one else calls her that. “Are you seeing anyone?” Now my stomach is feeling weird too, and maybe I should eat before I have much more to drink on an empty stomach.
Gemma tosses the entirety of her ranch water back into her throat and swallows in one gulp before slamming the glass down and smacking her lips. “Nope,” she says simply, with a little pop on the “p” for emphasis.
I really want to see these two get along, even if they don’t start going to spa dates together, or whatever normal chicks do for fun, but I don’t see Gemma opening up to Kayla anytime soon, despite her best efforts. Come to think of it, Gemma and I mostly just live our lives, there’s not always that much talking involved. We usually know what one another are thinking without having to say much, so not too many monologues or self-explanation is really needed when it’s just us. I can’t remember the last time I heard her go on and on about herself, and I’d be willing to bet my next movie role that she’s not about to do it with Kayla.
We should probably just do something together, then they can both have some fun and feel a little more comfortable around one another. And I have just the perfect thing.
“You guys ever played glow-in-the-dark mini golf?”