After All

by Karina Halle

  “So you’re not yourself with him?”

  Her question makes me pause. Am I myself with him? Or am I putting on some persona? I dismiss the question with my hand. “It doesn’t matter. The real question is, why were you looking at pictures of me on your honeymoon and not having sex with your new husband?”

  “This isn’t about me,” Jackie says. “Don’t even try to change the subject. We have our whole lives to talk about the baby and the honeymoon and how the husband is doing. What I want to know is every single detail about you two.”

  “Well what do you want to know?”

  “Alyssa,” she says sternly. “You’re dating Emmett Hill. Do you know what they call you? The Bruiser and The Blondie.”

  I stare at her, slack-jawed. Seriously? Was that Carla’s doing?

  “Well it’s highly unfair to call him a bruiser,” I say. “That’s just the media running with it because it rhymes with Cruiser. He’s only gotten in like a handful of public fights.”

  “And your whole relationship is fake,” she goes on, ignoring that. “So of course I want to know what the hell is going on. I mean, this is the most exciting thing to ever happen since…”

  “Since you found out you were having a baby and getting married?”

  She looks sheepish. “Well yeah. So are you sleeping with him?”

  That’s the one thing I haven’t been forthcoming about in our texts. All the times I’ve slept with Emmett, which is technically three if you count the beginning, I haven’t mentioned to anyone. I don’t know why, I’m not usually one to shy away from sharing the details. I guess it’s just the one thing we do together that’s nobody’s business but ours.

  And it’s something that won’t continue, I remind myself. Though I’m starting to take these declarations less and less seriously. Kind of like when you promise you’ll start your diet tomorrow and you never ever do.

  “You are sleeping with him,” she exclaims softly. “Holy shit.”

  “It’s nothing. It’s not a habit.”

  “Pretty nice habit if it was.”

  “He’s good at what he does,” I admit.

  “You’re selling him short.”

  I press my lips together trying to supress a smile. Am I ever. Emmett is not just good at what he does, he fucks like champ. He’s in it to win and nothing less than a million mind-blowing orgasms will do.

  Crap. I know I have that sick dreamy look on my face and Jackie is delighting in every minute of it.

  “But it doesn’t matter,” I go on, making my features blank, “because he annoys the living shit out of me.”

  “Oh, he does not.”

  “He’s a cad, Jackie. A prick. An asshole. A player. A downright scoundrel.”

  “And that’s a problem for you?”

  I give her a loaded look.

  “Can’t you just enjoy the wining and dining then?” she asks, desperate to find some sort of romance between us. “I mean, that’s what helped Will win me over. That and the gifts.”

  “Yeah. And that’s the huge difference here. For one, no one is winning anyone over. Except for us, together, winning over the general public. For second, you actually liked Will.”

  “I still don’t believe you don’t like Emmett, even a little.” I stare blankly at her. She shrugs with one shoulder. “Okay, so then at least you like his dick.”

  “I do. And I can like a dick without liking what it’s attached to.” I pause. “Though I must say, his tongue and his hands are pretty fantastic too. Wouldn’t be fair to leave them out. So I guess if there was some version of Emmett out there that was just tongue, dick and hands, I’d venture to say then that, yes, I like him.”

  A silence falls over us as we ponder this interesting phallic creation.

  “You know what, I know you,” she says with a patient smile. “I know you and I know you say you hate him but you don’t. Not even a bit. In fact, the only thing you hate is the fact that you like him. I’d go on to say that you probably like him a lot.”

  I scoff and busy myself with the napkin. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, but I do. I do. All that time pretending I wasn’t in love with Will was absolutely futile.”

  I glance at her in annoyance. “I’m not in love with Emmett.”

  “I’m not saying you are. But you like him and you’re pretending you don’t.”

  I swallow that down. “So?” I ask cagily.

  “Love is a cliff. You’re just steps from the edge. The fall is inevitable.”

  I let out a huff of air, blowing a strand of hair off my face. “You can like someone and not fall in love with them. It happens all the time. It’s why so many people break up. They have the like. They want the love. And they expect the love. But sometimes that love doesn’t show up. So you have to end it.” I can’t help but think about Emmett as I’m saying this, the way he was with his ex-fiancée.

  “You’re so cynical.”

  “I’ve been around the block a lot,” I remind her. “And I’m not cynical, I’m a realist. I know what to expect, I know how it all works. The fact of the matter is the majority of relationships downright fail before they even get to the ‘I love you stage’, let alone after. And when it comes to Emmett and me, our relationship is one hundred per cent fake.”

  “I bet the orgasms are real,” she says under her breath.

  “And they are. I like Emmett. Okay? And I like having sex with him. No, I love having sex with him. But that’s the extent of what we are and who we are to each other. It will never go beyond that. It’s not in the contract. There are no cliffs of love for us to leap off of here. Just one big wall, signed with ink.”

  Jackie studies me for a moment before shaking her head and taking a sip of her drink. “You’re a dream crusher, you know that? What the hell are you doing reading all those romance novels anyway? Don’t you believe in the happily ever after? Don’t you want that?”

  I suck back on my straw and grin at her. “Honestly, I just want to get off.”

  She bursts out laughing and raises her drink. “Well okay then. Congratu-fucking-lations to that!”

  “Cheers,” I say as I clink mine against hers.

  “Oh, by the way,” she says after our food arrives and I’ve started wolfing down my gnocchi. “I was thinking that since you guys are officially dating, maybe the four of us could go on a date. Like a mini-trip together.”

  I take my time chewing before I swallow it down. “A mini-trip? That sounds serious. Do you think we’re ready for that?”

  She casts me a dry look. “Do you hear yourself? This isn’t a real relationship, you said so yourself. Technically, you can’t mess it up. You’re already ready for anything.”

  Right. Fuck, it’s hard to keep things straight. “Sure. A trip sounds fun.” It would be the first time going away with Emmett but with Will and Jackie there, I think it could be doable. “Where, when?”

  “Labour Day weekend is just around the corner. I was originally thinking Will’s mother’s campground in Tofino but she actually won’t be there then. What about your mom?”

  My mom. I’m immediately hit with a pang of guilt. Normally I’m driving over to Penticton once a month to visit her but Emmett’s been sucking up so much of my time lately. The last thing I want is for her to meet Emmett and buy into the whole relationship thing, though I know she already knows about him. Then again, it would put her little heart at ease to at least think I’m in a serious relationship with a (mildly) respectable guy. At least a guy with money.

  “That might work,” I say cautiously. “I owe her a visit. But I don’t want to stay in the house, there’s not enough room for us all.”

  “Maybe Emmett or Will can rent some cabins down by the lake. Preferably one with a vineyard.”

  “You don’t think you’ll go crazy being surrounded by all the wine you can’t drink?”

  “I survived weeks of virgin piña coladas,” she says, her brown eyes looking wistful.
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  “Well then that might just work.”

  “Oh come on, it will be so much fun.”

  “Will it?”

  “Me, Will…the Bruiser and the Blondie.”

  I roll my eyes. “Please stop. That’s all I see now. That and pictures of my fat ass and the headlines about me being a normal girl, said in the most belittling way. I’m terrified to read the comment sections, I know people are taking shots at me.”

  “Only because people are jealous and the world is a horrible place.”

  I laugh. “When you put it that way…”

  “So we’re in? Labor Day weekend. The lake.”

  “We’re in.”

  “All in?”

  I sigh. “All in.”

  Chapter 13

  Alyssa

  My mother was so excited to hear that I was taking my famous new boyfriend to visit her in Penticton that it almost felt terrible that the whole thing was a lie. I say almost because what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.

  Until the contract is up of course and Emmett and I part ways in what is sure to be a public break-up. Ugh. I hadn’t really thought about that part, about what happens when this whole thing is over. I find myself entertaining the fact that maybe my contract will be renewed, like I’m a star on some show. And the show being Emmett Hill’s life.

  At first I was a bit wary of going away with him but that all changed when he took me out for sushi at one of the city’s newest hotspots and broke the news to me: The CW network is having a party down in LA and the cast of Boomerang is required to go.

  And Emmett insisted I come along as his date.

  So that’s why I’m currently sitting beside Emmett in the first-class section of an Air Canada flight, bound for LA. Forget about being nervous about the couples trip to Penticton, I’m absolutely jubilant that I get to go to Los Angeles for the first time in a long time. Too bad I’m not a huge fan of flying.

  “Nervous flier?” he asks me, watching as my fingers tap dance along the arm rest between us.

  “Just during take-off and landing,” I admit.

  “But we took off an hour ago.”

  “And we’re landing in an hour,” I point out.

  He slowly licks his lips until they spread into an easy grin. “You’re fucking adorable, you know that?”

  Real or fake? Real or fake?

  I’m going to pretend he’s being real. Just for fun.

  “Thank you,” I tell him. “I try around you.”

  He laughs gently, his eyes searching mine. “No you don’t. You don’t try at all. That’s why I like you.” He then closes his fingers over mine and holds them tight.

  I lean in close to him, catching a whiff of the fresh rosemary scent of his cologne. I whisper, “You just said you liked me and I think you might have meant it. I’m making a note of it.”

  He reaches over and gently cups the side of my face in his warm, broad palm. “It’s never been a secret, sunshine.”

  Then he closes his beautiful eyes and brushes his lips against mine, a slow teasing kiss that deepens and blooms. I feel it slide over me like stepping into a warm bath, my tongue stroking against his until our mouths are aching and wild for each other.

  Fucking hell, Emmett Hill. The man can fuck like a champ but he can also make out like no one’s business.

  The flight attendant clearing her throat is the only thing that makes us stop, though I can feel Emmett smiling against my mouth before he looks up.

  “Would you like anything more to drink?” the flight attendant says with an overly warm smile, entirely fixated on him. And I can’t blame her. Emmett’s in black pants, an ice-blue button-down shirt that’s open just enough at the chest, the color making his eyes come to life, his bronze hair artfully mussed up, thick and shining.

  “Of course,” Emmett says to her. “Keep them coming. A glass of white wine for each of us.”

  She nods and moves onto the next person.

  “Sorry I ordered for you,” he says to me, letting his fingers drift away from my face. My cheek feels cold without his skin pressed there. “I felt like it was a thing that we do.”

  “As is making out in public,” I tell him. I poke my head up and glance around. No one in first class is paying us any attention. In fact, I think I recognize another passenger up here, some older man who used to play a demon on Supernatural or something.

  Emmett shrugs and settles back into his seat, not apologetic at all.

  I think I’m starting to figure out how we work. Anything physical is real. Everything emotional is fake.

  Except for the fact that he just admitted he liked me. And he meant it. That much I know.

  I’ll take what I can get.

  When we land at LAX, Emmett holding my hand tight during the entire landing, I’m completely unprepared for the onslaught of paparazzi at baggage claim. I mean, I’m used to the cameras in Vancouver but to be honest, most of the time it’s the same two or three guys you see at every place. Everything else between Emmett and I seems to be documented by fans and strangers who cross our paths.

  But here? Fucking eh! There’s like twenty of them with huge cameras, all of them yelling our names like we’re at some sort of cattle auction, a million flashbulbs going off until I’m practically blind. I’m actually doing that cliché pose that celebrities do where they walk while looking down, one arm out in front of them to shield their face, because if I didn’t do that, I’d probably fall right down on the baggage carousel.

  “Emmett! Emmett, you’re looking great!”

  “Emmett, can you tell us more about Alyssa?!”

  “Alyssa how does it feel to snag one of the most notorious bachelors!”

  “Emmett, has she helped you clean up your ways?”

  “Emmett, how do you feel about your new nickname? Do you think it’s accurate?”

  “Is it true you sleep nude?”

  “Alyssa, baby, you’re beautiful! Give us a big smile!”

  The yelling and the questions never stop but I do love how Emmett is turning extra-protective, trying to actually shield me from the cameras instead of showing me off. I think he’s so blindsided by the attention that he’s forgetting this is what’s supposed to happen, what he’s supposed to want for us.

  “Give us some space, please,” Emmett says through his smile, even though his eyes are flashing dangerously. He holds me tight, keeps me back from the cameras. I can totally see why actors end up breaking lenses because this shit is unreal and completely disorienting.

  Somehow, we make it out with our bags and are ushered into a waiting Suburban hired by the network. It’s only when we start pulling away from the airport and into the LA traffic, that I remember how to breathe.

  “Are you okay?” Emmett asks me, holding my hand while he looks me over.

  I nod. “Yeah. Just. Wow.” I take in a deep breath, trying to get my head on straight.

  “Fucking vultures.” His voice is laced with anger. “They treated you like you were a piece of meat.”

  I personally don’t see Emmett pissed off very often but I have to say I’m touched by it. “I guess that’s the good part about shooting in Vancouver, you don’t have to put up with this.” I gesture to the city as if it’s some singular beast intent on harassing him.

  He sighs and leans back in his seat, closing his eyes. “Yeah. It’s funny. Working on Degrassi, I really thought it was my big break. I mean, it was. In Canada. But people quickly forget. And when it was over, I assumed I would go on to bigger and better things.” He pauses, licks his lips. “You know, I wanted this. What happened back there. I wanted the fame and the glory and all of it. And now…is it really worth trading your soul for?”

  I look him over curiously. “You traded your soul?”

  He looks out the window and nods. “In a way. I think everyone does in order to get what they think they want.”

  “What did you trade away?”

  After a few beats he says, “Respect.”

 
; “But people respect you.” But as soon as the words leave my mouth, I’m not exactly sure if it’s true. Autumn had mentioned how he isn’t well-respected. And judging by the paparazzi show at the airport and what they write in the tabloids, the media certainly doesn’t respect him either. “You’re a good actor,” I say feebly.

  He gives me a wry smile. “Oh really? What have you actually watched me in?”

  The truth is, it’s been nothing lately. I can’t even watch Boomerang because it’s so damn weird to see him on the screen. “I liked an indie horror movie you did a long time ago.”

  He lets out a sharp laugh and slaps my knee. “The one with the killer bees?”

  “Yeah. What was it called, Buzzed Off?”

  He shakes his head. “Oh man, I’ll never live it down. I do have to say, working with bees all day did give me a deep appreciation for them.”

  “I’m sure it did.”

  “Well, let me tell you…it’s not that people don’t respect me. They do. I act well enough. The shows I do at least stay on the air. I’m not doing, like, porn. Bees aside, I’m not ashamed. But I lost a lot of respect for myself.”

  “Why?”

  His tongue peeks out between his lips as his brows furrow, deep in thought. After a beat he says, “In hindsight, I should have stayed in London. I should have stayed in the theatre. That’s really the only time I felt happy. I felt real and alive and fucking thriving, you know? It wasn’t until you came along that I started to feel happy again.”

  Bam. My heart stills inside my chest, a cage of butterflies just dying to open.

  Holy.

  I swallow, the sound audible in the car. “You…I make you happy?”

  He glances at me, a quiet smile tugging the side of his mouth. “Yeah. You do.”

  “Real or fake?” I ask whisper.

  His features soften. “Real, Alyssa. Very, very real. I know this is…” he glances up at the driver who seems to be minding his own business before looking back to me with yearning eyes, “I know this is complicated and not necessarily what should happen but ever since I met you, I’ve had something inside me wake up. You don’t know how grateful I am for it.”