Chapter 26 Jason
Chapter 26
How many Baby Yodas had to die to make this drink?
Jason
THE FIRST THING I see when I roll over is the tangle of brown hair on my pillow and the bare, suntanned shoulder peeking out from under the covers. I brace myself for the usual feeling of dread I get after a hookup, but instead I feel this thing I believe is called… happiness. Instead of wanting to get away as fast as I can, I want to scoot closer and fit her muscular curves against me. Do a repeat of last night. Maybe add a scene or two.
Mattie’s chirps drift in from the hall, and I know I need to get up. Before I do, I lean over and study Emmy’s sleeping face. It’s half-buried in hair, her fists tucked under her chin. I can’t see the tiny mole on her eyelid. I can barely see her face at all. Only the line of her jaw leading to her sensual, slightly open mouth.
Looking at that mouth brings back more memories from the night before. Again I feel zero regrets. Maybe there’s something different about what Emmy and I have. Had. Might have. Might have had? Grammar was never my strong suit. I was more of a PE kind of kid.
Speaking of wrecking the English language, I said a lot of things last night that probably made it blush. I’ve always been a talker during sex, mostly in my younger years when I fell in love as often and as easily as the surfers outside my bedroom window tumble into a wave. Last night was the first time in a long time that I’ve done that.
She started it. She asked me to say I’m yours , and I did. Several times. Then I told her I wanted her. That I’d wanted her from the very start. I told her all the things I wanted to do to her right before I did them. I asked what she wanted, and I told her I’d do it, say it, manifest it. Whatever she wanted, I would make it happen. She could drag me to the bottom of the sea, and I would let her. I’d hold my breath forever. I feel like I’m still holding it.
It’s not a bad feeling, being underwater. Maybe if I don’t breathe out, I can hold on to this feeling forever. She picked me over all the others and said all those nice things about me. I don’t know why that makes me feel so invincible. I have a lot of fans. Tons of people tell me I’m great. It’s just that I don’t believe any of them.
Somehow, I believe her.
Mattie’s noises get louder, and carefully, I roll off the far side of the bed. I dig some pajama pants out of a drawer and throw a T-shirt onto the bed for Emmy. I don’t know if she’ll use it, but it would be a treat to see her in it. I leave the door open as I slip out.
I get Mattie set up with cartoons in front of the TV and head to the kitchen. The blender makes enough noise pumping out two green smoothies that she finally emerges from the bedroom. I smile seeing those muscular legs under the hem of my Jackson Hole shirt. She’s got her phone and charger in hand.
“Good morning.” I meet her sleepy steps halfway with a glass of vitamin-rich protein-kefir-kale deliciousness in each hand. But instead of taking one, she puts her arms around me and melts into my bare chest. I can’t hug her back because my hands are full, so I kiss the top of her head instead.
“My phone is dead,” she murmurs into my chest. Her breath makes a hot spot on my breastbone.
“I’ll call the police and report the murder. In the meantime, there’s a plug at the breakfast nook.” I press a glass of green liquid into her hand.
She scrutinizes it. “How many Baby Yodas had to die to make this drink?”
I muster Sean’s conservatively offended face. “People pay eight dollars a glass for this at the Acai Palace. And his name is Grogu.”
“Oh, I’m aware.” She takes a sip and turns her back to me, leaning forward on the counter to plug in her phone. The hem of my shirt lifts up as she does, revealing the bottoms of her boy shorts and giving me a cheap thrill. Once the device powers up, she holds up her green smoothie and snaps a selfie.
I wrap my arms around her from behind and smile over her shoulder. “Why don’t you get one of us both?”
Our faces look relaxed and happy on the screen as she snaps the picture. Suddenly, I remember she’s leaving tonight on the red-eye. I won’t see her again until the promo tour in December.
“Will you send that to me? I’m going to want something to remind me of you when you’re gone.”
The ends of her mouth turn down at the corners, and she makes three taps on her phone. “Done.”
Behind me on the counter, my phone dings. The sound is almost as wistful as the look in her eyes. If Mattie wasn’t here, I’d take her back to bed right now. I’d spend every moment we have left looking at her, touching her, losing myself in her. I’d beg her to drown me again. The way she’s looking at me, I can tell she wants the same thing. Instead, I turn to the coffee maker.
“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” I ask.
“Let’s check your popularity.” She pulls a rubber band off her wrist with her teeth and twists her long hair into a ponytail. Then she hops onto the counter. With nothing on but my T-shirt and underwear, it’s über-erotic. Tethered to the wall by the charger, she dangles her legs and taps around on her phone. A snorty little pseudo-laugh escapes her.
“What?”
“They love you again, Jason Connor.”
“That quickly?”
“See for yourself.” She turns her phone toward me.
I bring the coffees over. Sweet and plant-milky for her. Black for me. Her eyes are extra golden in the shifty morning light. Sliding a hand around her waist, I let it fall on her bare thigh and peer at the phone screen.
@thefunnyJason, you are still adorbs. C’mere and I’ll work with you on your yoga skillz.
I chuckle. “Tempting, but no.”
Emmy reads the next one out loud. “ Hey @thefunnyJason, sing a song for us! ”
“Don’t mind if I do.” I launch into “Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic” by the Police.
She interrupts my long note with a kiss. Her kisses are never light, never playful. When they show up, you know you’re about to have a bag thrown over your head and get shoved into a car. With Mattie here, though, I can’t afford to get kidnapped, so I pat her leg and pull back.
Her expression is teasing and apologetic. “I’m a sucker for Sting.”
“Aren’t we all? Dude is sexy!” I move to the sink and rinse out the blender. Emmy pulls her legs up and sits cross-legged on the counter. I make myself look away.
“It’s our last day,” she says quietly. “I have a couple more ideas for videos we can shoot, but the ones I uploaded are doing really well and several more are queued up to go, so I’d say mission accomplished.”
I shake my head, amazed. “From what land forthwith came thee?”
She hops off the counter. “I don’t speak German.”
Then her arms are around my neck, and her mouth is on mine, relentless. When I taste her coffee-laced tongue, I give up altogether. Go ahead. Take me to the second location. I’ll have the waterboarding and the Stockholm syndrome, please. Anything to keep feeling this way.
“Daddy?”
We peel apart at Mattie’s voice. He’s standing only a few feet from us in Spider-Man pajamas with a book in his hands. It’s Emmy’s book, looking crumpled and misused. He holds it out to me. I take a deep breath and try to settle everything down.
“Thank you, buddy. Where’d you find that?” I smooth the cover and then glance at Emmy with a teasing grin. “Should I read a random scene out loud?”
“No!” Her eyes widen. “I mean, I thought you didn’t like spoilers.”
The fact that she’s so vehement about it makes me want to do it more. With a grin, I start flipping pages.
“Stop, Jason, no!” She reaches for the book, trying to swipe it out of my hand.
“What’s wrong? I just filmed the whole dang movie. It’s not like I don’t know what happens.”
“I don’t like hearing my stuff read out loud.”
I’ve got a good eight inches on her, so when I start riffling through pages over my head, she can’t reach it even as she jumps. I choose a random page and read the words out loud.
“Come here, Mattie.” She lifts him onto her shoulders. “Get the book! Get the book from Daddy!”
It’s an effective strategy because the kid is a velociraptor. Two ferocious little hands yank at my hair and scratch at my face as he lunges for the book. I can’t have my face getting all marked up, so I relinquish it. Emmy sets Mattie down and, giggling, he hands her the book. She turns and launches it Frisbee-style into the dining room. She’s wagering on my laziness. It’s a good bet. I’m not going after it.
“You still need to autograph that for me, you know.”
Once it’s clear she’s won, she’s back on her phone. My own phone dings again, and I grab it. Mattie whines at me to pick him up, and I do it absently.
“Crap,” I say, reading the notification.
“What?”
“I totally forgot. Sean is hosting this gala tonight, part of the children’s hospital initiative. The whole Lost Star cast is going. They’re gonna auction off props from previous seasons. It’s a big deal. You want to go?”
“Yes, I want to go!”
Of course she does. This is Emmy we’re talking about. Honestly, I’d rather just have another evening at home with her and Mattie. Watch her read books to him. Swim in the pool. Walk on the beach. Do more silly videos that somehow don’t feel like marketing and instead feel like two people getting to know each other. Have more amazing sex.
But this is work, and it’s for a really good cause. “It’s going to suck,” I warn. “There’ll be an open bar. Celebrities everywhere looking all… celebrity-ish.”
“Sounds great!”
“It’s on this scandalously huge yacht.”
She bounces on the tips of her toes. “I already said yes!”
I smile. “Fine. We’ll go. It’s seven to nine, so there’ll still be plenty of time to get you to the airport.”
“I need to call Val.” She whirls back to her phone.
“’Nana,” Mattie says in my arms.
“You want a banana?”
“’Nana.” He nods.
I grab one off the counter and put it to my ear. “Hello, Banana? Mattie wants to eat you. You okay with that?”
My boy giggles and snatches it from my hand. I give him a noisy smooch on the cheek. Margarita is scheduled to pick him up at five o’clock today, and at that thought, the coffee goes acidic in my stomach. I suddenly seem to recall having mentioned the gala to her a month or so ago and her perhaps having added it to her calendar, although we haven’t spoken about it since. Is Margarita planning on being there? If she’s seen the videos I’ve been making with Emmy, the answer will be a definitive yes.
Oh well. At least I got to be happy for a minute.