5. Emmett
The sun peeks through my curtains, blinding me as I squint and find myself not in my bed. I’m still on the couch. I try to move my left hand, but it’s trapped. What the…Oh. Right. Cassie.
We talked into the early hours of this morning. She asked for a blanket at one point and eventually asked me to move over so she could lie down. Her head started next to me, but during the night, she shifted it to rest on my lap.
I free my hand without her stirring and trace the pattern of freckles on her arm. She slowly blinks awake. Her eyes go wide as her gaze meets mine.
“Ah!” she yells and rolls backward, landing on the floor at my feet.
I lean over, place a hand under her arm, and help her back onto the couch. She pulls both of her legs up, sinks her elbows on either leg, and places her head in her hands.
Cassie turns her head to the right, enough to peek at me. She’s blushing. “Well, I guess we fell asleep, huh?”
“Seems that way.” I smile at her.
Standing up from the couch, I make my way to the kitchen. “Coffee?”
“Please,” she replies, throwing her head back on the couch with an exhausted sigh.
I make a pot of coffee, clicking the ‘bold’ button to brew it extra strong. I don’t remember what time it was when we eventually fell asleep, but it was late.
“How do you take your coffee?” I look over my shoulder to ask her.
“Black is fine,” she answers.
This morning I’m immensely grateful for a coffee machine that only takes a few minutes to make a half pot. I walk back with a cup in either hand. She takes one from me and brings the mug to her nose and inhales deeply. With her eyes closed, a small smile plays upon her lips.
“How do you take yours?” She opens her eyes to look at me.
“Black with two sugars,” I reply, sitting back in the same spot on the couch.
“Hm. I’ll have to try that next time we hang out,” she says and immediately looks at me. “I mean…”
“Next time.” I smile and bring my mug up to my lips to take a sip.
She nods.
We take a few moments to sit in the silence. I enjoy having her here. It’s similar to when we were alone in the trailer and last night, but this feels sacred. No one knows she’s here. It’s a secret between the two of us.
“I want to see you again.” Cassie looks up at me. “Alone, preferably,” she adds.
“I’m sure we could arrange that.”
She’s got a smug look on her face, and I want to wipe it off with my lips.
Cassie’s phone buzzes. She groans, sets the coffee on the table in front of us, and starts typing furiously. After she sends the message, she sighs and leans back.
Her head rolls back to the right to look at me. “My roommate, Lucy, she, uh, knows I was here last night and sent me a text to make sure we were… safe.” She bites her lower lip, but doesn’t look away.
I laugh, which earns me a glare and a light punch in the arm.
“I should probably go, though. We have to be at work in a little while,” she says.
“Maybe you could come back over tonight?” I ask, knowing it’s a long shot. After hesitating to invite her over yesterday, I don’t know if asking her to come back tonight is too soon. What I do know is I don’t want to go to work. The thought of staying here and holding her close, maybe with her on my lap, is much more enticing. I want to trace every curve of her body with more than just my fingertips, feel the warmth beneath my touch. I want to hear the little noises she makes when I find the spots that give her pleasure.
I want her to want me.
I have never wanted someone like this. It’s baffling to be obsessed with someone’s thoughts and opinions shortly after meeting them, but that’s how I feel. It’s quite terrifying, actually.
Cassie stands up from the couch and offers me her hand, which I accept. She pulls me up, and I find myself mere inches away from her. I’m not sure what she wants me to do. I want nothing more than to press my lips against hers and find out if our kiss is as electrifying as I’m predicting it will be.
She surprises me by taking a step forward toward me. She wraps her arms around my waist and pulls me into a hug. I take a deep breath and realize that it’s been a long time since I’ve hugged someone. Genuinely hugged someone. Not a side hug or a quick goodbye hug to my mom. Hugging Cassie feels like I’ve taken a blanket fresh from the dryer and wrapped it around myself, losing myself to the warmth.
She lets go of me, and naturally I do the same. She still hasn’t answered my question and I’ve yet to speak. My patience is hanging on by a thread. I’m aching to know what she’s going to say. I realize that makes me sound like a teenage boy that just found out girls don’t actually have cooties.
Cassie walks over to the front door, slips on her sandals, and grabs her bag. She turns around to face me and that’s when I realize a light pink has crept onto her cheeks and she’s staring at me with soft eyes. “What time?” she asks.
“What time?” I’m entranced by her staring at me. I somehow forgot what we were discussing. Her touch has a way of drawing my attention away from everything else, and I find myself missing it.
Cassie places a hand on her hip and rolls her eyes. “You’re going to have to keep up with me, Hotshot.”
The way she calls me ‘Hotshot’ fuels the fire in my gut. The nickname is a tribute to a past role of mine, and the way she says it makes me want to slam her against the door and claim her as mine.
“6 p.m. Don’t be late,” I respond.
“Or else?” She wiggles her eyebrows.
I groan, which causes her to laugh. Our emotions feed one another.
“See you at work, Emmett.” She smiles and exits my apartment, glancing back at me one last time before shutting the door.
That girl.
I slump back on the couch and take a few minutes before I have to get ready to leave for the studio. I already know Cassie is going to be a distraction for me today, but I don’t mind. In fact, I welcome it. After we spent all night talking, I’m excited for the day to go by quickly so I can be with her again tonight.
Talking to her was easy. I wanted to tell her things, to open up about my life. I even told her I wrote stories, but I haven’t told her I would love to chase that dream and pursue it full time.
The timing was never right. When I was younger, my dad found a script I wrote and yelled at me to explain myself. He called me childish to think I could do anything without his backing and said he wouldn’t support me doing anything other than acting. To him, the Davis name would disappear if I didn’t follow in his shadow.
I tell myself that one day I can do something for myself. I’m content for now. In fact, I should feel pride in the work that I’ve done as an actor after hearing that Cassie has been trying to land something ever since she moved here.
I only glimpsed her past and know she”s had bad luck with men in this industry. She even made me pinky swear (yes, clasp our pinkies together and all) that I would not bring this up to anyone and would not use my position as an already successful actor to help her.
Normally, it would have thrilled me to have someone open their heart up and not expect anything in return. With Cassie, I would have called any contact I had and gotten her auditions the next day. Even though I won’t do that, I did secretly cross my fingers behind my back in case I decide to break that promise at a later date for a good reason. I can”t promise something to her if there”s a possibility I won”t have the chance to keep it.
For now, though, I let her have the satisfaction of knowing I won’t do anything to help her succeed. She’s prideful and wants to achieve something herself. It’s hot. She’s full of ambition, and I thank the world for throwing her in my path.
I get to the studio just before 10 a.m. and find Marcy leaning against the railing of the stairs that lead up to the door of my trailer sandwiching her clipboard under one arm. She’s busy staring at her phone.
“Hey Marce,” I say as I walk over to her.
She looks up from her phone to meet my gaze but doesn’t smile.
“What?” I say.
She shakes her head and sighs. I move past her on the stairs, opening the door and walking into my trailer. She follows me and shuts the door behind us.
“Don’t what me. You know what,” she retorts.
I do. She’s talking about Cassie and the fact that she came over yesterday. She doesn’t know she stayed over by accident. No one knows that. Well, besides Lucy, but she’s an exception.
I walk into the kitchen and lean into the fridge to grab a glass bottle of cold brew.
“I’m sorry we didn’t invite you, but you could have come over, anyway,” I say as I twist the lid off the bottle and take a sip, not breaking eye contact.
Marcy is like a little sister to me. For that reason, she’s a little blunt and a pain in my ass.
“Emmett, you know that’s not what I mean.”
I nod. “What do you want me to say?”
I walk past her and sit on the couch. I still have a few minutes until I have to be on set, but I like to get here early to rehearse lines and make sure I’m prepared for my scenes.
She sighs heavily and moves to sit on the arm of the couch.
“I don’t need you to say anything, Emmett, just be careful. You know you’re not allowed to see anyone that works here. It’s a conflict of interest.”
“I’m not seeing her Marce, it was a friendly hang out. Didn’t the guys tell you that?” I fire back. I’m seeing her, but not how Marcy is insinuating. We are two people enjoying each other’s company.
“Mhm.” She drops her head and shakes it back and forth a few times. “You couldn’t just leave her alone, huh? I knew after I saw she was the girl from the diner that this was going to be trouble.”
She stands up and moves to the trailer door. She rests her hand on the handle, turning back around to face me. “You know I love you and I’m just looking out for you, right?”
“Love you too, Marce. I got it handled, don’t worry.” I give her a fake smile.
With that, she dips her head and leaves the trailer. My phone buzzes on the counter a few minutes later. I reach over to grab it, thinking it’s just one of the guys texting me to warn me about Marcy bombarding me or something about last night.
Instead, it’s a text from Cassie. I laugh.
Cassie
Marcy has this look in her eye. Should I be worried?
Emmett
She may have yelled at me for us hanging out last night, but no need to be worried.
Cassie
Sounds like we will need to keep us hanging out a secret?
It sounds like it. I text her back and let her know I’m excited for tonight. I make a mental note to add Cassie to my list of approved people for my garage so she doesn’t have to talk to anyone on her way in. It’ll be easier that way for her to get to my apartment with the lowest risk. Photographers like to camp outside at random times and I’d like to avoid an article and photo with her in it.
I groan just thinking about it. I don’t want to explain her to my dad. There isn’t even anything to explain, and I don’t even know if whatever this is will last longer than a week. We might hang out tonight and decide that’s it. I highly doubt it, but I have to think about all the possible outcomes.
My radio beeps and Ed’s voice comes through the speaker. I’m needed on set.
The rest of the day is a blur. Ed has me staying busy, helping with others and giving advice to newer actors. The more I’m busy, the less I look for Cassie. I think she’s avoiding the set, though, because I’ve seen Marcy plenty of times. I don’t know if it’s Cassie’s doing or Marcy’s. Marcy has her way of weaving herself into my life, which I would typically welcome because she’s one of my best friends, but I’m annoyed at the moment. She has nothing to worry about because Cassie and I are just friends.
Anyway, I’m home now and waiting for Cassie. I check the time on my phone for the tenth time before the display finally turns to 6 p.m. I already have dinner ready to go to the table. It’s not much, but I thought Cassie might enjoy it. It’s a simple summer salad full of greens, various vegetables, and topped with grilled chicken. The dressing is a light vinaigrette I’m obsessed with. I also have a variety of non-alcoholic beverages in my fridge, since I know she chooses not to drink most days.
There’s a light tap on the door, which I can only assume is Cassie.
I open the door and somehow forget how to speak. Cassie is wearing a mid-length floral dress. It’s a mix of light purples and pinks and blues. My gaze tracks from her collarbones, down the front of her dress, and back up to meet her eyes. She has the cutest smile. It’s radiating joy, yet subtle, like a soft rainfall.
“Want to come in?” I ask playfully.
She rolls her eyes. With her right hand, she pushes on my chest to move me out of her way and walks into my apartment.
I close the door and turn around to find her staring at me.
“What?” I ask.
“This isn’t a date,” she says.
A challenge that I accept.
“This isn’t not a date,” I respond.
Cassie glares at me, but it’s cute when she does it. She thinks she comes across as mean and grumpy, but I can see behind the mask she’s wearing. She’s not angry. She wouldn’t have come over here tonight if she didn’t want to spend time with me, so to me, this is a date. Maybe not the perfect first date, since it’s in my apartment, but it has everything a date should be. Two people, dinner, and… yeah, that’s it.
“Come on. Let’s eat and you can tell me about your day,” I say.
We walk over to the table, and I pull out her chair to let her sit. This gets a small chuckle and smile out of her.
We spend dinner talking about our day. Once again, it’s just easy. I don’t have to impress her with any stories from my past. The conversation just flows. It’s not forced and I feel that the most.
I’ve never had a first date like this. I always feel put in the spotlight. There’s this persona that I embody, and if I deviate from it, the date always ends badly. The girl would always try to bring it back around because they just wanted to go home with me. I was a consolation prize to them, something they could go back to their friends and gossip about.
“Tell me more about your writing,” Cassie says as she sticks a forkful of lettuce in her mouth. We both agreed this is the best salad we’ve ever had.
“What do you want to know?” I ask, leaning back in my chair.
She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “Why is it only a hobby? I can tell you love it.”
“Do I talk about it that much?” I ask. She nods and giggles. “Well, it was never an option. My dad, um, he never gave me the option to be anything other than an actor.”
“And your mom?”
“She just follows the lead of my dad. We don’t have much of a relationship.”
“Oh.” There’s sadness in her voice. If anyone knows what it’s like to have a dream that feels so close, yet so far away, it’s Cassie. Her dream of acting has been at her fingertips, but out of grasp.
“It’s okay though. I enjoy acting, I do.” I try to sound convincing, but the way she’s looking at me, I know she sees through my lie. “Do you, um, want to read some of my writing?”
She nods so enthusiastically that I worry she’s going to fall out of her chair.
“Okay, okay, don’t get too excited.” I laugh with her. “I don’t show many people this, only my core group of friends. This means you’re included in that, so if you want to read this, promise not to sell my secrets to the media.” I glance at her over my shoulder as I make my way down the hallway.
She takes her hand and pretends to draw an ‘x’ over her heart. “Promise.”