After All

by Karina Halle

  I’m about to tell him that I don’t even think I’m hungry anymore when I hear a snuffling sound from behind me.

  In unison, both Emmett and I turn around.

  There’s nothing but trees and sand and yellow flowers and brush and rocks and…

  A raccoon pokes his head around a ponderosa pine and looks at us.

  At me.

  That masked fucker looks me dead in the eye.

  We don’t spend any time figuring out if this is the desert-dwelling cousin of Cyril Sneer or not.

  Emmett grabs my hand and looks at me. “Run.”

  We both start running down the hill, leaving the raccoon in a cloud of dust.

  * * *

  The drive back to the cabin after dinner is quiet. Jackie is the designated driver, so she’s concentrating on the directions from Siri. Will wasn’t sure how to handle my mother while Emmett and I were gone, so he had a lot of wine and is now snoring lightly in the front seat.

  Emmett and I are tangled together in the backseat.

  But we’re not tired in the slightest.

  In fact, I can’t remember the last time I felt so alive, that every cell inside me was pumped and ready to go.

  By the time the car pulls up beside the cabin, Emmett and are running inside to grab another bottle of wine and some towels and then start heading down to the beach.

  “Oh, so now you want to do the night swim,” Jackie says warily as she and Will head inside the cabin.

  “Clothing optional!” I yell at her as I start to pull my dress off over my head.

  I know it’s dark out and we’re slightly visible in the cabin’s porch light, but I honestly don’t care that I’m going in naked or not. Both Emmett and I have stripped completely nude by the time our feet hit the water and we splash into the lake.

  “Ahhhh!’ I cry out, laughing. The water is a bit colder at night and it’s bracing in the warm night air.

  Emmett splashes beside me, grabbing my hand and pulling him to me. “Come here you gorgeous sea creature you.”

  “It’s a lake, Emmett,” I tell him, kissing him on the tip of his nose. “I’m a lake creature.”

  “The Ogopogo?”

  I nod, giggling. “That seems about right.”

  “Have you ever seen the Ogopogo?” he asks, wrapping his arms around my neck. I wrap my legs around his waist, feeling his cock jut between us.

  “Is talking about the Ogopogo turning you on?” I ask him slyly. “Because that’s a weird fetish if I’ve ever heard one.”

  Every deep, dark lake has a legend about it. Loch Ness has the Loch Ness Monster. Lake Okanagan has the Ogopogo. They both look roughly the same, have the same amount of (feeble) evidence to support their existence and there’s a lot of people who truly believe in them.

  “I’ve heard there’s a million-dollar reward for hard evidence,” he tells me.

  I reach down and grab his cock. “I’ve got some hard evidence right here.”

  He bursts out laughing, even as I feel him grow hotter and larger in my hand. “I’m just thinking, with your luck with animals, perhaps we could use you as bait.”

  I bite my lip and grin at him, his beautiful wet face dimly lit by the cabin lights behind us, the dark lake stretching out as far as the eye can see. “Oh. I’m Ogopogo bait now, am I?”

  “Stop saying Ogopogo. The word is ceasing to lose all meaning.”

  “You started it.”

  He grins and twirls around so we’re moving faster and faster in a circle, the water splashing around us.

  Above us, the sky and the stars dance.

  The water gets deeper.

  I’m about to tell him I’m getting dizzy when something brushes against my ass.

  “Ahhhh!’ I scream.

  “What is it?”

  “Something touched me!”

  We both exchange a look.

  I yell out, “Ogopogo!” while he starts laughing and together we start swimming until we’re closer to shore.

  “I think the solution is to never let you go,” he says, burying his head in my neck. “Never let you out of my sight. Stay with me forever.”

  As simple as his words sound, they mean the world.

  “I would be okay with that.”

  He pulls back and looks at me with all intensity. “Yeah?”

  And then I realize he still hasn’t heard what he needs to hear. What I need him to hear.

  I put my hand at his cheek, feeling his wet skin, his rough stubble, and gaze deeply into his eyes until all he sees is me. All he sees is the real me. All he sees is my heart.

  “Emmett,” I whisper to him. “I love you.”

  It takes a moment for my words to reach him, like they get lost in time, or are swallowed by the lake. But then, slowly, the biggest, most breathtaking smile stretches across his face.

  “I love you,” I tell him again, his smile making me whole.

  And I tell him again and again.

  Chapter 18

  Emmett

  “You, my friend, are impossible to get a hold of,” Autumn says as she steps into my trailer.

  I look up from the tattered copy of Watership Down I’m reading–found it when I last visited Jimmy–and give her a wane smile.

  I am hard to get a hold of. On purpose. The last three weeks or so, ever since we got back from Penticton, I’ve been spending as much time with Alyssa as possible. It has nothing to do with the contract anymore. The fact is, I can’t stand days without her. If she’s not in my bed, I’m in hers. It feels fucking good to kiss her in the morning when either of us go off to work, like we’re actually in this real, breathing relationship and one that fucking works.

  I’ve been going to work less and less, as it is.

  In fact, in the last three weeks, my life has changed fairly drastically, even though it’s all for the better.

  My role on Boomerang has come to an end. Today was actually my last day on set and I’ve just finished up my scenes but am hanging around in my trailer, waiting to see if I’m needed for a reshoot before we’re done for the day.

  I’m not sad about it at all. In fact, had they not told me when I got back from Penticton that Doctor Death was meeting his death, I probably would have brought it up at some point. Things have been slowly shifting into place and I’m looking at my life with a new perspective, even if I’m unsure how to make things happen. What I do know is that I’m like Alyssa in some ways, ready for something new even if I don’t know what it is.

  The leap of faith.

  Ratings on Boomerang have been slipping, so they think that by bringing in a new villain, they’ll win back their audience. The one thing I did ask the producers though is if my leaving the show had anything to do with my supposed reputation.

  Boy, you should have seen their faces.

  “Emmett, your personal life is your personal life,” Gary Edwards, one of the producers, had said to me. “I don’t care if you’re kicking puppies or helping little old ladies cross the street. As long as you show up on time and do the work, that’s all we care about. That’s all any producer cares about.”

  So, it turns out that my bad boy reputation as a bruiser didn’t have much bearing at all.

  It’s one reason why when Autumn managed to get me on the phone today, I agreed for her to stop by. It’s petty but I want to rub it in how no one gives a shit about my reputation except for her.

  But as it is my last day on set, I shouldn’t be surprised that she has a fancy bottle of rye in her hands, a Crown Royal reserve with a bow wrapped around it. I find myself looking at it more than I am at her.

  “I got it just for you,” she says smugly, walking toward me. “Shall we toast?”

  I put the book down and sit up. She’s always wearing something sexy and today is no different. High heels, miniscule black shorts, a silk tank, no bra. Not exactly professional nor practical since September is almost over, but I suppose it is Friday night and she has somewhere to be after.

  Autum
n and I have always had a complicated relationship. She literally only signed on with me by the recommendation of Julian when I started on Boomerang. I know Alyssa has grilled me about her a few times, assuming we’ve been physical with each other, wanting to know the truth about her.

  Truth is, I did sleep with her. The first day we had a meeting, last year. We hit it off and then it just sort of…happened. I’m not proud of it, but somehow we were able to make it work afterward. It didn’t mean anything to me, it was just physical. And it didn’t mean anything to Autumn. We were able to start working with each other after that, like it never happened, and we never did it again. I guess we just got it out of our systems.

  But even though I’ve told Alyssa this and assured her that there’s nothing going on between us–I can appreciate Autumn’s beauty but it honestly does nothing for me now–I know she’s a bit cagey about us being together. I’m sure if Alyssa had a choice, she’d prefer I don’t work with Autumn at all.

  I’m half-inclined to agree with her. It’s not that I don’t like Autumn or think she’s a shitty publicist, but if it makes Alyssa uneasy, then she’s got to go. The only problem is this contract. Autumn is overseeing it so I’m pretty much stuck with her until it’s all done.

  It’s also one reason why I’ve been avoiding Autumn’s calls. The only reason I even answered today was because she said she had big news for me. Now that she’s here, I’m wondering what it is.

  “Emmett?” Autumn asks, shaking a glass at me. “Come on, you have to celebrate your last day. You can’t be all mopey and depressed about it.”

  “Mopey?” I frown. “I’m the opposite of mopey.”

  “I don’t know. You’re in your trailer, alone, reading a book. I know how hard it is to say good bye to an era.”

  “I was on the show for less than a year. It was a short era.”

  “Even so. Toast with me.”

  I glance at the clock on the wall. “They might need me for a reshoot.”

  “Nope,” she says with a big smile. “They said you’re all done.”

  “Really?” Hell, they could have told me that. I would have tried to meet up with Alyssa.

  “When they’re done shooting, they said to come over to Julian’s trailer for a goodbye toast but I thought I would beat them to it. So drink up.”

  She hands me the drink and raises her glass to mine.

  We cheers.

  I drink.

  Damn, it’s good.

  And then…time just kind of slips by.

  Autumn keeps refilling my glass, sitting beside me in the trailer, until I’m not sure how much I’ve drunk.

  “So,” she says to me and I’m barely conscious of the fact that her leg is pressed against mine. Warning bells are going off in my head but I’m not sure why. “What do you think your next role will be? What do you want me to help you campaign for? If I work side-by-side with your agent, I think you could have pretty much anything. Even a movie role. A big one.”

  “I’m moving to London,” I tell her, aware that I’ve slurred my words. Also aware that I’m not sure if I’m moving to London at all but it seems the thing to say right now.

  Autumn stills beside me. Her hand goes on my leg. “What?”

  “I said I’m moving to London and taking Alyssa with me.”

  I look up at her face and she’s staring at me in horror. “Alyssa? You…the contract is almost up, Emmett.”

  I shrug. “I’m in love with her. What can I say.”

  “You’re what?!” she hisses.

  “In love.” I hold out my empty glass and wave it at her. “More please.”

  She watches me for a second. My vision starts to double on itself so I see two sets of blindingly white teeth. Then it comes together again.

  “Emmett,” she says, pouring me another glass. “You can’t go to London. What would you do? Theatre again?”

  “Why not?”

  “Then what use am I to you?” For the first time, she looks absolutely hurt.

  Shit. She’s taking it personally.

  “It’ll all work out,” I tell her, taking a drink.

  She grows silent for who knows how long until she mutters to herself. “Well I’m glad I saw this coming.”

  “Huh?”

  She gets to her feet. “Come on. We should go join the party.”

  “Party?”

  “At the other trailer. Julian’s. Your goodbye party.” She then pours me another drink. “Finish that first.”

  I stare at the bottle. “Shit. I’ve almost had most of it.”

  “You’re very drunk,” she says. “Finish it.”

  I do what she says. Who am I to argue.

  When I’m done the glass, I have a hard time getting to my feet. She has to haul me up.

  I almost fall over on her. I can’t stop laughing. “I’m so sorry, I don’t think my feet work. How am I going to do musical theatre again if my feet don’t work?”

  “It’s fine,” she says, laughing in response. It’s nice that she’s back to being nice again.

  She opens the trailer door and the parking lot where all the trailers are parked is dark, no one around. The air is crisp with fall. The giant studio looms beside us. In the distance I hear Julian’s laugh and some cheers. There really is a party going on. If it’s for me, I should be there.

  Hell, Alyssa should be here. She’s my forever date. I wish I’d known.

  I should call her.

  “Alyssa,” I say but I don’t know what I expect. For her to appear?

  At that, I nearly stumble down the trailer steps and she’s holding me up once again.

  “Wow. You’re stronger than you look,” I tell her as she puts my arm around her shoulder.

  We walk a few feet until we’re between two trailers, then we stop.

  “You’re drunk, Emmett,” she says again, her voice lower now.

  I lean back against the trailer, trying to get my bearings. Holy shit. What is even happening.

  My hands are going down her sides, skirting over her waist, hips, thighs.

  Her hands are cupping my face.

  Then she’s kissing me.

  I kiss her back.

  It takes a second for me to realize.

  This isn’t Alyssa’s mouth. Not her lips, not her tongue. This isn’t her skin beneath my hands.

  “No,” I blurt out and try to move my head back. The world spins. I nearly lose my balance.

  Autumn is holding me.

  Autumn is not letting go.

  This is all Autumn, not Alyssa.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t,” I mumble, trying to keep my head up straight.

  Autumn is pulling my face towards her, trying to kiss me again.

  “No one can see us, it doesn’t matter,” she whispers to me as I move my face out of reach.

  I put my hand on her chest and push her back. I fall back against the trailer and raise my head.

  She’s staring at me, enraged under the dim lights of the parking lot. “What’s wrong with me, Emmett?” she asks. “What is it?”

  I don’t know what to say. I try and swallow. “I’m flattered.”

  Oh, she doesn’t like that. “Flattered?”

  “Yes. Yes, I’m very flattered you tried to kiss me and you like me but it’s not mutual. Nope. I’m with Alyssa and you’re not Alyssa and I’m sorry but…”

  “That’s a fake relationship Emmett,” she snipes harshly.

  “It isn’t. I don’t think it ever was,” I admit. “I love her.”

  “You don’t know love,” she says. “That’s not who you are.”

  I flinch. “I’m sorry. I don’t think…I need to go home.”

  “Emmett,” she warns.

  I start walking off and when she tries to grab a hold of me, I push her off.

  “Emmett!” she yells after me.

  I manage to get my phone out of my pocket and dial a cab before I lose all capability.

  Then I stumble out of the studio, skipping m
y goodbye party and leaving my publicist behind. I need to be alone. I need to sober up.

  Then I need to tell Alyssa exactly what happened.

  * * *

  I wake up to a knock at my door.

  I think I’ve been listening to it for a long time but I thought it was my heart pounding in my head.

  My mouth feels like I’ve swallowed sawdust.

  I am in bad shape.

  Gingerly I roll over and groan. My curtains are closed and soft light is filtering in through the cracks. I have no idea at all what time it is.

  I reach over and pick up my phone.

  It’s dead. Figures.

  I take in a deep breath, trying to bring feeling back into my body.

  Fucking hell. What did I drink last night?

  Oh yeah.

  Oh…fuck.

  It all comes rushing back.

  What a mess.

  The knock at the door again. Louder this time.

  Pounding, actually.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  That’s never a good sign.

  I get out of bed and pull on a pair of jogging pants as I head over to the door.

  I look through the peephole.

  It’s Alyssa. She’s looking down at her phone.

  I quickly swing open the door.

  “Hey,” I say to her, squinting at the light. Even though it’s cloudy, it still hurts my eyes. “My phone’s been dead, I–”

  And then I see her eyes.

  She’s been crying.

  She also looks like she wants to slice my head clean off.

  “What happened?” I ask, immediately fearful.

  She tries to swallow, her jawline growing tight. “How could you?” she whispers, her words caught in her throat, her red-rimmed eyes filled with pain. “How could you do this to me?”

  I blink at her. “What?”

  I wish I could think faster, that my hangover didn’t have a hold on me.

  Autumn. Is it Autumn?

  Does she know that Autumn kissed me? But how?

  “Come in,” I tell her, gesturing to the house. “Please. Let’s talk.”

  She hesitates. She’s almost afraid. It’s now that I realize she looks like she just crawled out of bed. She’s in her pajama pants, flip flops, an oversized Mad Men Studios hoodie. She’s got no makeup on, her hair is a mess. She’s so completely vulnerable, fragile yet brimming with so much animosity that I’m not sure how to handle her, what to do.