8. Embry
8
Embry
It had been a mistake to go for sweet and pretty when I planned the wedding ceremony. The whole thing felt too real. Maybe I wouldn’t have had that problem if we’d been dressed as pirates or gotten married by an Elvis impersonator. But it turned out those themed wedding venues cost a lot more than I’d expected, so I went for the free option instead of spending more of Bryson’s money.
Our kiss made everything even more confusing. I’d kissed plenty of men, usually during random hookups, and felt absolutely nothing. But when Bryson and I kissed, it made my heart trip over itself.
It wasn’t okay to feel things for him, outside of caring about him as a friend. Yes, I’d felt a little spark of attraction early on, but that was something to ignore and deny. He was straight , and our relationship wasn’t real . Apparently I needed to keep reminding myself of that. This was complicated enough without reading too much into his kindness, or believing the lie we were going to try to tell his family.
My thoughts were scrambled after the wedding ceremony, the kiss, all of it. I wanted to bail out of the reception early, and fortunately, Bryson was all for it. It seemed like he’d even anticipated it, since he’d bought several extra-large pizzas for our hosts, and one much smaller pizza that was the perfect size to take with us when we fled.
On the way out, Vee texted me, asking: You alright, Em? I can come with you if you want some company. I sent a message in return, letting him know I was just tired and telling him he should stay and enjoy himself.
Bryson and I didn’t say much on the drive back to the Strip. I ate two slices of pizza because I was hungry, but he passed. When we reached the hotel, a parking attendant whisked the convertible away. I hung my huge tote bag on my shoulder—which held everything I’d needed to decorate the cake and get ready for the wedding ceremony—and brought the leftover pizza with me as we went upstairs.
At the door to his room, I handed him his jacket, which he’d been nice enough to give me for the drive. Then I asked, “What are you going to do tonight?”
“I’m pretty wiped out, so I’ll probably just go to bed.”
I didn’t point out that it was barely nine. Instead, I nodded and told him, “I’ll be up for a while, so text me if you need anything.”
I offered him the leftover pizza, and when he declined, I took it with me to my room and ate two more slices. Then I changed into pajamas, sat on one of the beds hugging my knees to my chest, and stared at the ring on my left hand for a while.
I hadn’t felt up for partying, but this was a pretty blah way to spend my wedding night.
Correction, my fake wedding night.
When my phone beeped a few minutes later, I was so excited that I knocked it off the nightstand and had to dive after it. The text was from Bryson, and it said: I want to make sure I reimburse everyone who spent money on the wedding ceremony today, so please let me know what I owe for the cake and decorating supplies, the champagne, the wedding officiant’s fee, cab fare, and anything I’m forgetting.
Vee had covered all those expenses, and I’d kept a running total to make sure he got reimbursed. I sent Bryson the amount, along with Vee’s Venmo information, and a minute later, he replied: Done. Thank you. Do you maybe want to come to my room and watch a movie or something? It turns out I’m way too wound up to sleep.
Yay! I replied: Be there in five minutes .
I jumped up and hurried to get ready. After I put on my fuzzy, pink bunny slippers, I ran into the bathroom and checked my reflection. The ride in the convertible hadn’t done my straightened hair any favors, so I tried to brush it. That made it look worse, so I found a stretchy headband in my toiletry case and put it on. After adding a little lip balm, I stepped back to see more of myself in the mirror.
My slightly oversized red flannel pajamas were printed with a repeating pattern of my dog’s head. They’d been a gift from my housemates on my last birthday, and I absolutely loved them. They weren’t the sexiest thing in the world, though.
Why was I even thinking about that?
I was going to my straight friend’s room to watch a movie, not to hook up. I really needed to get a grip.
I grabbed my phone and key card and headed down the hall. Along the way, I sent Vee a message, letting him know where I’d be in case he and Hal came back to the hotel and wondered where I was.
He replied: Three other teams from the rugby tournament showed up, and they brought a keg. I’ll be back really late. Hal is in his cornfed cowboy’s room, so I don’t think we’ll see him until the morning.
Now I was doubly happy we’d left the party when we did. I was in no mood for a wild kegger. Another message from Vee popped up: Tell Bryson thank you for reimbursing me, by the way. He sent me a Venmo payment a few minutes ago.
When I knocked on Bryson’s door, he answered it looking very hot in a white T-shirt and gray sweatpants.
Oh man, I needed to get a grip.
“I ordered popcorn, drinks, and some candy from room service, and I pulled up the pay-per-view movie menu,” he said, as I followed him into the room. But then, he turned to me and added, “Then again, it’s our last night in Las Vegas. If there’s anything you still want to see or do, I can cancel our order and scrape up some energy.”
I took a seat on the couch and pulled a throw blanket onto my lap. “It’s been a long day. This is exactly what I want to be doing now.”
For the second night in a row, Bryson offered me his bed and slept on the couch. We didn’t talk about why he wanted me to stay, but I knew it was because neither of us felt like being alone.
The next morning, he ordered us breakfast from room service. We made awkward small talk while we ate, and afterwards I returned to my room to shower, get dressed, and pack.
Vee and Hal arrived just as I finished up and was zipping my suitcase. “I drank too much last night, so I ended up sleeping it off in the pool house,” Vee muttered, as he slumped in a chair and adjusted his dark glasses. Then he grinned and gestured at Hal. “I’m not sure if our friend here slept at all, or if he spent all night acting out the bumper sticker ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy.’ Are you doing okay there, buddy?”
Hal was in the process of changing into a fresh outfit. Since his hair was damp, it appeared he’d already showered back at the party house. He shot Vee a look and told him, “I’m fine, thanks.” Then he turned to me and said, “I’m sorry, Embry. I was supposed to be here for you this weekend, but I ended up getting distracted.”
“There’s no need to apologize. You and Vee helped me all day yesterday, while I looked at a bunch of wedding venues, found an officiant, and got the cake and everything I needed to decorate it. The rest of the time, I was perfectly happy hanging out with Bryson. He’s becoming a good friend.”
“I still feel guilty,” he muttered.
“Don’t. I’m happy you had fun. Are you going to see your cowboy again?”
He shrugged. “We exchanged numbers, and he invited me to visit him any time I want, but we’ll see.”
“He’s trying to act like he doesn’t care, but he really likes this guy,” Vee said. “It’s okay to admit it, Hal.”
Hal sat on the foot of the bed and sighed. “You’re right, I do. He’s hot, and sweet, and incredible in bed. But his life is in Texas, and mine’s in California. That’s just the way it is.” He changed the subject by frowning at Vee and saying, “Go get a shower. Bryson will probably want to leave for the airport soon, and you smell like a brewery.”
Vee stood up and set aside his sunglasses. “I really do. Some drunken rugby dude spilled his beer all over me last night.”
I got up, too. “I want to do a little shopping. I’m not sure how soon we’re leaving for the airport, but if Bryson texts and asks us to meet him downstairs, will you please take my luggage with you?”
Hal said, “No problem,” and I thanked him before hurrying to the elevators.
At the first gift shop I came to, I picked out a small teddy bear in a Las Vegas T-shirt as a souvenir and found a present for Bryson. Then I returned to the bakery we’d visited the day we arrived and bought my housemates two dozen rainbow-colored macarons, as a thank you gift to Hal and Vee for coming with me, and to everyone else for watching Dusty while I was gone.
Right after that, Bryson sent a text asking us to meet him in the lobby in fifteen minutes. I relayed the message to my friends, and then I paused and looked around.
I was on a fake Parisian street, surrounded by fake trees, under a fake blue sky. This had been the perfect place to begin our fake marriage.
Time to find out if it could survive in the real world.
I ended up sleeping on the flight home. When we landed in San Francisco, another town car was waiting for us. The driver took us to the Pink Victorian, and Bryson came in to help me get Dusty and the two boxes I’d packed before the trip.
After I gave JoJo the macarons and thanked her for watching my dog, I grabbed her in a hug. “I’m not saying goodbye,” I told her. “That’s not what this is.”
“You’re right,” she said. “We’ll be seeing you real soon.”
Even though I knew that, I still felt emotional as all my housemates took turns hugging me. Then I scooped up my dog and held the door for Bryson, who brought my stuff to the car for me.
Once we got to his house, we left the boxes and his garment bag in the foyer and carried Dusty and my luggage upstairs. “When the house was remodeled, I had the main suite converted to a library,” he explained. “I just couldn’t see sleeping in what used to be my dad’s room, so I’m still using the bedroom I grew up in. It’s to the left at the top of the stairs, and your room is to the right.”
The guest room was gorgeous, like the rest of the house. It had pale blue walls, dark wood furniture, and a big bed with fluffy pillows and blue-on-blue bedding. There was also a comfortable-looking upholstered chair and matching ottoman, a window seat, and a small fireplace, which helped it seem cozy. It made me think of a fancy bed and breakfast. Not that I’d ever stayed in one, but I could imagine.
“Please feel free to change it,” he said. “Do whatever it takes for you to feel comfortable here.”
I murmured, “It’s perfect.”
“Your bathroom is through there.” Bryson gestured at a closed door. “I made sure there were fresh towels before we left for Las Vegas.” He looked around and said, “I feel like there’s a bunch more stuff I should be telling you, but that’s all I can think of right now.”
“This is great. Really.”
“Okay. I’m going to bring up the rest of your stuff. Be right back.”
With that, he hurried out of the room, and I hugged my dog to my chest. It was surprising that Bryson seemed as nervous as I felt. But then, this was almost as big a change for him as it was for me, since he was letting someone he barely knew into his home. He seemed to like structure and routine, and we both knew I was going to throw that off in a big way.
After he returned and stacked the boxes on the floor, he asked, “Would you like some help unpacking?”
“No, thanks. I’ve got it.” We both hesitated for a moment, unsure about what to do next. Then I pointed at the door and said, “I’m going to close this, so Dusty will stay in here with me.” The dog was squirming in my arms and more than ready to be set free.
“Yeah, of course. I’ll keep my phone on me, so send a text if you need anything. Oh, and I’m going to have some groceries delivered. Any requests?”
“I’d like some cereal, any kind that seems like it was made for a six-year-old.” I fished some money out of my pocket and tried to give it to him, but he stepped back and held his hands up, as if I’d pulled a gun on him.
“Meals and groceries are part of our deal,” he reminded me.
“But I can buy my own stuff.”
“It’s going to get too complicated if we start down that path. What am I going to do, charge you for an egg and a slice of bread if you make yourself breakfast? Just let me cover all the food.”
“You’re very stubborn.”
“I’m also right. It’s best to keep this as simple and straightforward as possible.” There was no point in arguing, because I was never going to win.
After Bryson went downstairs, I shut the door and put the dog down. Dusty immediately started running around and sniffing everything. I opened one of the boxes, gave him his squeaky toy, and set up his fluffy fleece bed. Then I filled his water bowl in the bathroom and put it on the floor next to the sink, and the dog was basically all set.
It didn’t take much longer than that for me to move in. I didn’t have a lot of stuff to begin with, and I hadn’t brought everything I owned with me. I wasn’t giving up my room in the Pink Victorian, and I planned on spending plenty of time over there, so it made sense to only bring what I thought I’d need.
Once I finished unpacking, I debated what to do with the flattened boxes and ended up stashing them in the back of the closet. It made sense to hang on to them, since I was going to need them again a year from now—or sooner, if his family saw right through our sham of a marriage.
Now that I was officially out of stuff to do, I curled up on the window seat and looked around. My Vegas bear sat on the mattress with two more stuffed animals, my favorite sketchbook was on the dresser, and Dusty was in his dog bed, happily gnawing on his toy. Those things should have helped me feel at home. I really wanted to relax, but instead, I was on edge.
It wasn’t just that I felt like a visitor. I’d been able to relax at the hotel, but here I was afraid of doing something wrong, of messing up this perfect home, of making Bryson mad or upset—although he’d already proven he was incredibly patient.
This was definitely a “me” problem. I didn’t trust myself in a place like this.
Maybe an hour later, I was sitting on the floor playing a game on my phone when Dusty came over to me and started doing his “I need to go out” dance. I scooped him up, and when I went downstairs, I discovered Bryson in the kitchen, tracing circles onto a sheet of parchment paper.
As I opened the back door and let the dog out, I asked, “What’re you doing?”
“Getting everything ready for our macaron lesson.” He moved a glass and ran a pencil around its base, creating another perfect circle. “It helps to have a template when you’re piping the cookies. That way, they’ll all end up the same size.” He turned the finished sheet over and added it to a small stack beside him.
“You remembered that you promised to teach me!”
“Of course. I bought all the ingredients with our grocery order, so everything’s ready whenever you are. We don’t have to do it today if you’re too tired, or?—”
“Actually, I’d love to do it right now, if that’s okay.”
“Sure. Give me a minute, and I’ll get everything set up.”
He pulled a slate gray KitchenAid mixer out of a cabinet, and as he plugged it in I said, “I can’t believe you keep that hidden away. I’ve always wanted one of those in pink, and if I had one, I’d display it proudly.”
“I’ll keep it on the counter from now on, so you can use it whenever you want to without having to wrestle it out of the cabinet. It weighs a ton.”
While Bryson organized the ingredients, I let Dusty back in, pushed back the sleeves of my hoodie, and washed my hands. Then he walked me through his recipe and showed me what to do, one step at a time.
I meant it when I told him, “You’re a great teacher.”
“You’ll have to take that back if these turn out horribly.”
“They won’t. I already know that.”
After filling two large piping bags with our mixture, we stood side-by-side and dispensed perfect, pink disks onto parchment paper-lined baking sheets. “Now for my favorite part.” He raised a baking sheet about six inches and dropped it onto the counter with a loud clatter. “It gets rid of any air bubbles,” he explained, before doing it again.
The sound alerted Dusty, who leapt to his feet. When I picked up and dropped my baking sheet, he started barking, which made me chuckle. “Thank you for trying to save me from the noise by making more noise,” I told him.
Bryson said, “We have a little time before we can bake these. They need to sit for thirty to sixty minutes, so they’ll dry out a bit. Want a snack while we wait?”
“Sure. Which cereal did you end up buying?”
He opened a cabinet, which held at least ten different boxes of cereal. “All of the ones that seemed fun. I made room in this cupboard and the one next to it, so we can fill them with your favorite things. Right now, all that’s in the other one is popcorn and Red Vines, because you seemed to enjoy those during our movie night. I’ll add stuff once I learn more about what you like.”
I startled Bryson by grabbing him in a hug and whispering, “Thank you.”
“Welcome.” I let go of him and dabbed my eyes, and he asked, “Are you crying?”
“No.” After a beat, I admitted, “Maybe a little. That was really thoughtful, and I appreciate it so much.”
He seemed embarrassed as he muttered, “No big deal.”
It was to me, though. It made me feel welcome.
I remembered something just then and pulled a small item out of the pocket of my hoodie. “I got you this while we were in Vegas.” I picked up his hand and placed the colorful magnet on his palm. It featured the Las Vegas sign where we’d taken some photos, along with a cartoony rendition of the Strip, including our hotel and its Eiffel Tower. “You told me once that you used to have a whole collection of magnets. Maybe you could keep this one in your home office or something.”
“Nope. There’s only one place for this.” He crossed the room and stuck it right on the front of his fancy, high-end refrigerator. Then he turned to me with a smile. “Thank you, Embry. It means a lot that you remembered what I’d said and got that for me.”
Honestly, the magnet didn’t match the kitchen at all, and I never thought he’d actually stick it on his fridge. It was silly and kitschy, while everything around it was sleek and expensive.
But the fact that he enjoyed it and gave it a place of honor meant so much. It made me think, if something that off-beat could find a place here, maybe I could, too.