17. Cassie
After an awkward lunch with Marcy and Carla, I felt like I didn’t stop walking for the rest of the day. Carla needed something from casting, so I had to go visit Max. Max didn’t know where it was, so I had to track down Lane. I finally got some envelope to deliver to Carla, who left a note saying she had to run an errand. I took a literal five second breather before Ed’s voice came over the radio to ask me to come to set to help catering restock dressing rooms, the long table on set, and find out if anyone has any dietary restrictions for dinner that evening. Why was I doing all of this? I didn’t even have time to ask, and honestly, I didn’t care.
It kept me busy. If I stopped for a moment, my mind would flash to last night. The memories set my body ablaze, making me feel like a walking inferno, and I couldn”t shake the feeling that everyone could see it. So, I said yes to every task that was asked of me because that meant my mind had something to focus on before our dinner tonight.
Dinner. Tonight. Butterflies swarm my stomach, circling from one side to the other. My heart races even though I know it’s just Emmett and it’ll be like every other night we hang out.
I’m glad I get to talk to Lucy before heading over. I need to confide in someone. Lucy already knows I’ve been hanging out with Emmett, so I know it’s safe to tell her. Plus, she’s kind of an outsider to the studio crew. Sure, she’s hung out with everyone, but she doesn’t have to see them every day. I don’t know if she still talks to Tyler. I’m waiting for her to tell me about what happened there when she’s ready.
She has enough on her plate with her fall art showcase coming up. Likewise, my audition for the acting showcase is this weekend, which I find hard to believe. The actual showcase will take place in a few weeks. I feel like it was just yesterday that I was struggling with my scenes and trying to figure out how the fuck I was going to pull them together.
Then Emmett came along, rehearsed with me last night, which led to…yeah, and now I’m feeling great about this weekend. I’m motivated, more motivated than I’ve been the last year. I’m actually looking forward to this weekend instead of dreading it.
When I get to my apartment, my phone buzzes. I look to find Annie’s name on the caller screen.
“Hi, Anns,” I answer. I hold the phone in between my right ear and shoulder as I sling my bag over my opposite shoulder. We’re lucky to live a few blocks off the main drive, so it’s fairly quiet. I smile at a few others who enter the building at the same time as me and press the elevator button to go up to the 5th floor.
“She lives! I feel like I’ve been trying to call you all day.”
“Ah, sorry.” I step into the apartment and find Lucy sitting at the island. I give her a tight smile and mouth “Annie,” to which she nods and goes back to eating whatever’s in her bowl. “I’ve been a little occupied with—” What do I even tell her? I can’t tell her about Emmett. She would flip out. She’s obsessed.
“Work?” Annie asks, clearly annoyed at my loss for words.
“Yep, work.”
“Well, I was wondering something…” Annie trails off, which normally means she wants to ask me something.
“What, Annie?” I put her on speaker and place the phone on my desk in my room. I need to change before Emmett’s anyway, so I might as well do it now while talking with Annie before I go chat with Lucy. I don’t want to be late.
“You know how I’m on some of those movie chat boards?” Oh boy. I hum in response. I know she spends hours obsessing over celebrities, trying to learn the ins and outs of their lives. When she comes to college in the fall, she’s planning to study public relations. Her dream is to work with celebrities, so whenever I give her shit about her near-obsession, she tells me it’s for research. “Well, I was chatting with my friend June and she was talking about Emmett and how there has been no news of what his next movie is. And I may have told her you know him.”
“Get to the point, Annie.”
“Well, do you know what he’s doing next? It’d help me earn the respect of some of the top posters if you knew something. Of course I wouldn’t say how I knew, but—”
“No, I don’t,” I cut her off. It’s the truth, anyway. “I don’t know what Emmett is doing next. We haven’t talked about that.” Again, not a lie.
Lucy appears at my doorway, still wearing her overalls, which are covered in green and blue paint. She leans against the doorframe, crosses her arms, slings one foot over the other, shifts her weight to her left side, and listens to my conversation.
“Damn. Okay, well, if you do find out, would you be the best big sister ever and tell me?” I can practically picture Annie on her knees, begging for insider information. She’s done this only a few times when I happen to be around people that are famous enough to have an article written about them. It’s part of the reason she freaked out when she saw that article about Emmett and me and when she found out I’d be working at the same studio as him.
“I’ll think about it. Gotta go, Anns. Love you.” I click the end call button on the phone after Annie tells me bye. She’s coming to visit in two weeks, so I’m sure she will ask me this same question then. She’s visiting the UCLA campus while she’s here, although our mom thinks she’s just coming to see me. Annie still hasn’t told her about moving here in the fall, but I’m letting her handle that. I don’t need our mom thinking I’m influencing her decisions.
I glance over at the doorway. “You hear all of that?”
Lucy strolls into my room and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. I’m still trying to figure out what to wear tonight. A dress? No, too formal. Athletic wear? Not formal enough. Do I bring an overnight bag? Should I assume he wants me to stay the night?
“I did. And I can practically hear your internal struggles. What’s going on? Things not going well with Emmett?”
Right, she wasn’t here this morning when I made a quick stop to change before work. She was already at her art studio.
My cheeks flush red as I glance up at her quickly before returning to flipping through the clothes in my closet.
“Oh my god, Cassie Marie.”
“That’s not my middle name.”
“What aren’t you telling me? What could have possibly happened over the last 24 hours?”
With a sigh, I look up and accept that my face has embarrassment written all over it. I’m as red as a tomato. I walk over to sit next to her on the bed, rest my elbows on my knees, then drop my head in my hands.
“We slept together.”
Lucy playfully shoves my shoulder, and I topple to the left onto the bed.
“Hey! What was that for?” I ask, pushing myself back up to a sitting position.
“I knew you liked him, and you tried to deny it. You’ve been denying it for weeks.”
She says it like I didn’t know that already. I’ve been denying myself absolute pleasure for weeks, and I know it. In my defense, it was for an excellent reason. I could lose my job. Why would I risk that? Well, Emmett sure as hell didn’t back down and challenged that question. So, I’m risking it. I think.
“We may have agreed to be exclusive.” I glance over at her before getting up from the bed and walking back over to the closet. I flip through my clothes again, one hanger at a time, like I haven’t already done this exact action three times. “But I don’t exactly know what exclusive means. Do you? Like, does this mean he’s my boyfriend?” I furrow my eyebrows. I would think yes, but it’s honestly been so long since I’ve dated anyone that I’ve never had to “define the relationship.” It was always casual, never serious.
“Don’t ask me. I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him.”
I sigh, returning my gaze to the closet. I decide on a skirt with a high slit on one leg, with a cropped shirt to go with it. It’s casual, but looks like I put in effort. The perfect combination for a last-minute date.
“Do you think I’m making a bad decision?” I ask Lucy, turning around to face her.
“What? Seeing him? Pursuing something?” she asks, and I give a gentle nod. “No, I don’t think so. I think you’re finally allowing yourself to trust someone else and let them in. You’ve spent the last five years focused on acting, and acting alone. You haven’t wanted to include anyone else in your little bubble.”
“I include you. And Annie,” I argue, even though I know she’s speaking the truth. All of my relationships at the acting class are surface level. I”m careful about oversharing and avoid asking questions. It keeps it easier. I don’t feel pressured to remember birthdays, or kids’ names, or where they are vacationing in the summer. It was the same with any guy I saw. A part of me frequently held back, preventing me from fully opening up to them. I always kept a wall up, even though it did nothing to protect me. I still got a role stolen from me.
“We don’t count.”
I shrug.
“But I will say to be careful. Like I heard, I know you don’t know what he’s doing next and if it’s something at the studio, what does that mean for whatever you two have? Will it always need to be this secret? Will it force you to quit the studio in order to be with him? Maybe ask him that tonight.”
“That’s a good thought. Okay, thank you. I don’t know why I’m overthinking it. I’m trying really hard to live in the moment, I swear. Thanks for talking this out with me.”
Lucy leaves the room, heading out to change before going into work at the diner. I do the same, getting dressed to go to Emmett’s. I decide to bring an overnight bag, knowing I’d rather be prepared and have it.
I take a deep breath and one last look in the mirror, trying to calm my racing heartbeat. “It’s going to be fine.” After one more deep sigh, I gather my thoughts and feel ready to go.
On my way out of the apartment, I snatch my keys and slip on a pair of white shoes. I call out to Lucy to let her know I’m leaving. She replies “don’t get caught” which is funny because it’s true. We can’t get caught. I would have avoided Emmett like the plague if I knew my feelings would start getting involved in this. I like him, truly like him, and it’s annoying.
I was doing just fine before him, working at the diner and trying to make something out of my acting. He just had to come in that night and look at me with those eyes. Those beautiful, big brown eyes that just draw you in from the start. As soon as he winked at me and my stomach twisted in knots, I should have known that he was going to be a distraction.
Emmett has found his way into a little sliver of my heart. I don’t know what to expect from this, but I’m at least willing to put myself out there. If shit hits the fan, I’m hoping Emmett will at least defend me and I won’t lose my job. I can’t lose another job in the industry and have more people think negatively of me because I’m sleeping with the principal actor of the movie.
On my drive to his apartment, I think of ways to avoid Emmett at work. I could stay away from the set, eat at weird times, and try to steer clear of the trailers. I can’t fully avoid him, but I know myself and now that I’ve gotten to experience Emmett in bed, it’s going to be hard for me to not flirt with him or just stare at him. Someone will find it odd when I can’t take my eyes off him. I also don’t want to distract him. I know it’s a busy week at the studio and they can’t afford to re-film every scene if his mind is elsewhere. And I know it would happen because it did yesterday, and they had to re-film three scenes.
The guard at the garage waves me through. I still don’t understand how he knows who I am. Is it the color of the car? Like when you go to pick up groceries and you state the model and color of your car? I shake my head. It’s not something I need to go down a rabbit hole on. I know my mind is currently latching onto anything to distract myself from thinking about Emmett.
I carefully look around, making sure no one was following me, even though it’s late and I know no one followed me. Still, it’s fun to pretend. When I make it to his floor, I stand outside his apartment with my back to his door. Should I knock? How should I knock? A few light taps? Do I announce my presence? Why am I suddenly questioning how to knock on a damn door?
I decide to text him. Except, when I’m in the middle of composing a succinct text message, the door opens behind me.
Emmett’s hand wraps around my right wrist. I’m pulled into his apartment. Emmett slams the door shut and pins me to it with his mouth on mine.
My hands are still by my side when he removes his mouth from mine. I think I’m in shock because I don’t speak first.
“Hi, Sass.” He smiles, letting go of my wrist and walking into the kitchen. He glances at the bag in my hand. He says nothing, but he smiles to himself before he turns away. “I made chicken parmesan. I hope that’s okay.” He glances over his shoulder at me, then returns his attention back to the oven to pull something out of it.
“That’s great.” I set my things by the door and slip my shoes off. I walk over to the island, and immediately the perfectly set table draws my eyes. Before there was nothing on the table, but now it’s lined with a table runner, two already lit candles, and a vase of flowers. My gaze trails down the length of the table and lands on the kitchen, on the island specifically, which is currently loaded with food. Yes, he made the chicken parmesan, but there’s salad, and bread, and another kind of salad, and 10 different dressings, and two dessert options.
“I know, it’s a lot.”
I look up at him to find him already looking at me. He has a sheepish grin on his face and a slight tint of pink on his cheeks, which could be from the vulnerability or the heat of the kitchen. He takes the kitchen towel that’s in his hand and tosses it over his shoulder.
“I didn’t know what you like. I just wanted this to be perfect.”
I walk around the island to where he’s standing. Touching his left shoulder, I stand on my tiptoes, leaning toward him to plant a kiss on his cheek.
“It’s great, Emmett. Thank you. Can I help with anything?” I look around to find something to do, but it looks as if he’s somehow did everything.
“Nope, you can take a seat. I’ll bring everything over.” He leans toward me, this time leaving a kiss on my temple before turning back around to tend to something by the stove.
Just as I”m about to turn and walk to the table, I pause, realizing that I haven”t taken in the details of Emmett. Not just glancing in his direction, but letting myself take him all in.
His hair, dark as tree roots, dangles neatly around his face. No matter what he does, a few strands of hair always find their way in front, shading his eyes. He’s wearing a simple shirt, but I’ve never seen someone wear a t-shirt like Emmett wears a t-shirt. It hugs his shoulders and emphasizes all the right places while still leaving room for comfort. He’s wearing my favorite pair of dark denim jeans, complementing the stark white color of his shirt.
“Cassie.”
I take my time returning my gaze to his eyes, drifting from his legs, up his chest, to his face. “Hm?” I ask, my mind not all the way there as I study his eyes.
“If you don’t stop looking at me like that, we won’t be eating dinner.”
I do a once-over again, my eyes looking down and back up. “What if my appetite has changed and I’m hungry for something,” I lower my gaze to his cock, “else.”
In a low, husky tone, he growls, which isn’t helping to convince me it’s food I should stick down my throat.
“Fuck, Cassie. I promised myself I’d take it slow tonight.”
“Don’t you know you shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep?” With a subtle lift of my eyebrows, I issue a challenge. I stick my left leg out, causing the slit in my skirt to rise a few inches, revealing more of my exposed skin.
He lets out another low grunt. “Fuck it.”
In record time, Emmett turns to the oven and changes it from bake to keep warm, turns back to face me, and closes the distance between us in just two large steps. He bends the top half of his body toward my waist, and before I have the chance to ask him what he’s doing, he throws me over his shoulder and starts walking to his room.