1. Emma #3
“I had moved here from the East Coast; Harrison had been here for a couple of months already. I found him through a Craigslist ad looking for a roommate. I never expected it would turn into the friendship we have today, but if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing.”
They were roommates? I feel like I would’ve known about that if it were true.
“I guess, in a sense, we’re pretty much like Julia and Emma. He was always keeping me in check, and eventually we became each other’s family when everyone else was far away. I wouldn’t be who I am if not for you,” he says, looking straight at him.
Harrison smiles gently, and for a moment I wonder if they’re going to get emotional. Matt sounds genuine. Then again, acting is his job.
“And I couldn’t be happier that you found your person. Because thanks to you, now there’s someone else in this little makeshift family we created. And for once, I’m not the one you have to worry about keeping in line. To Julia and Harrison.”
Everyone stands, cheering him on as if they were attending one of his exclusive movie premieres. I roll my eyes. No way any of that was true. If it were, it means he might actually have feelings behind all that charm after all.
“Let’s get some songs in while we prep the bride and groom’s first dance!” the DJ says, kicking things off with The Way You Look Tonight.
I turn back to our table, where Harrison wraps Matt in a manly hug. They’re patting it out when a petite blonde taps Matt on the shoulder.
“Do you want to dance?” she purrs, way too sensual for public consumption.
Matt nods politely, but doesn’t look entirely convinced. Typical. Not enough class for him. His eyes find mine and I scowl.
“What?” I mouth.
He shakes his head, takes her hand and gives her a playful spin. She throws her head back in laughter, fake eyelashes batting so hard they might take flight. The blonde heads toward the dance floor, dragging him along.
I see my chance, and I take it. As he passes by, I discreetly stretch my leg out in his direction. He trips, nearly taking the girl down with him, but sadly manages to catch himself before epically face-planting.
He looks back at me, and I shrug.
“Emma!” Julia scolds.
“Rule number one,” I say, lifting my still-poisoned glass. “Don’t dish it if you can’t take it.”
A couple of minutes later, the DJ lowers the lights, and Julia and Harrison make their way to the center of the room.
“Now, let’s give it up for our newlyweds’ first dance!”
The opening notes of Make You Feel My Love drift through the speakers, and as they sway in unison, a soft hush falls over the crowd.
I’m about to steal a sip of Julia’s drink when a voice chirps beside me, “You two!” The photographer appears out of nowhere, catching Matt as he’s about to sit down.
“I need at least one shot of the wedding party.”
I blink. “Oh—uh, we’re good.”
“It was requested by the bride and groom,” she insists.
“Come on, Mills,” Matt says, coming over with a smirk. “Don’t make it weird.”
“I’m not making it weird,” I argue, but I stand anyway. “Be quick.”
He slides his arm around my waist, and I instantly stiffen. His fingers are barely touching me, but my brains seem to take this contact and flies with it. The way my pulse spikes is, unfortunately, less about how long it’s been since I’ve had manly contact and more about the man itself.
“Closer,” she says, waving her hand. “Lean into him.”
I huff and do as she says, enough to hide my arm behind him. She snaps a photo, checks the screen, and frowns.
“This won’t do. Could you please act like you like him for about ten seconds? Put your arm on his chest or something.”
The first dance is winding down—our cue to join them on the dance floor—so I do as I’m told, hoping to end this fast. I turn sideways, wrapping one arm around him and resting the other against his chest.
“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Matt whispers, his breath brushing my ear as flashes pop around us.
“Says the guy who made up half his speech,” I mutter.
He frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, come on,” I say. “You really expect me to believe you wrote that?”
His jaw tightens. “You’re willing to stoop that low? What, mad I did your job better than you, writer girl?”
“I’m an editor, Matt.”
He scoffs, but his eyes flicker with something I can’t name. “Let’s go; they’re waiting for us.”
I follow him onto the dance floor, though the last thing I want to do is dance. We sway with the music, and I keep my gaze on anything but him. Still, I can’t shake how… hurt he looked when I said that.
When I finally glance up, he’s already watching me.
“Look, I’m sorry,” I find myself saying. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“You didn’t.”
“It sure doesn’t seem that way.”
He exhales, shaking his head. “Can you let it be?”
“Why do you always have to—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“You’re—” He huffs. “You’re just too much.”
That does it. I drop his hand and step back. The song’s almost over anyway.
“You know what, Matt?” My voice comes out sharper than I intended. “At least I’m real.”
I turn on my heel before he can respond and rush toward the bathroom. My pulse is pounding. I scrub my hands at the sink until the warmth of his touch is gone. Every trace of him washed down the drain.
At least after this I won’t have to see him again.