by Fiona Riley
“I’m learning so much about you.” Hayley picked up a milkshake and pointed to it. “Please explain this.”
“Well, it’s ice cream and milk, and ice, blended to make something spectacular.” Emerson took the milkshake from her and sipped it. “This is ridiculously good.”
Hayley accepted it when she offered it and tried it herself. “Agreed. Stupendous, really. And I know what a milkshake is. I just wanted to know what possessed you to have them combine these flavors. Why peanut butter and almond? Why not chocolate or vanilla or—?”
“Oreo? Because I got an Oreo one—it’s over there.” She pointed toward the overflowing food cart. “That one’s for you, but I’m willing to share this because it’s life changing.”
“I can get down with Oreo.” Hayley picked up the other shake and smiled.
“And to answer your awfully judgmental question, peanut butter has a high protein count in addition to its deliciousness. And almond milk is fortified with vitamins and minerals.”
“There was a method to all this madness?” Hayley waved her hand dramatically at the food cart. “Now you’re just lying to me.”
Emerson scoffed, “Allow me to educate you, Ms. Carpenter.”
Hayley leaned back on the couch and crossed her legs. “I’m all ears, Professor Sterling.”
“I like the way that sounds. Very academic and in charge.” Emerson considered this a moment. “Isn’t there a professor in your screenplay? Tell me about that. We never talk about that.”
Hayley waved her off. “Don’t try to change the subject. You were about to give me a lesson on the major food groups and how pancakes play a part in them.”
“As you wish.” She bowed her head and curtsied in her seat. “I shall start with the most important food group: breakfast.”
“That’s not a food group, Em. That’s a meal that occurs at a certain time of day,” she pointed out.
“Au contraire. Breakfast can happen anytime. And in this lesson, breakfast is a category of foods.”
“Says who?” Hayley was smiling broadly. Emerson liked that she was playing along.
“Me. It’s my class.” She shook her finger at Hayley. “Don’t argue with the teacher or you’ll get five demerits.”
Hayley’s eyebrows rose. She brought her finger and thumb across her closed lips in a zipping motion.
“Right. So, breakfast is the most important meal—”
“And food group.” Hayley snapped her mouth shut and covered it with her hand.
Emerson gave her a look. “Of the day. And in that category, we have the essentials: proteins, fiber, natural sugars, dairy, and essential vitamins.”
Hayley nodded.
“So we’ll start with the obvious ones. Steel-cut oats are loaded with fiber and overflowing with protein. They also have plenty of magnesium and potassium, too. Which everyone knows helps maintain a normal blood pressure and limit muscle cramping, among other things.”
“Obviously.”
Emerson ignored her. “Onto the omelet. Egg whites are protein heavy and spinach is packed with vitamin A. The goat cheese is full of good fat and more protein. It’s filling and delicious. The salad is dark greens laden with fiber and vitamins. The bran muffin is—”
“Full of fiber. And vitamins,” Hayley added.
“Exactly. Plus, there are cranberries in there, and who doesn’t love cranberries?”
“Agreed. I’m an East Coaster. We love us some cranberries around here.”
Emerson gave her a high five. “Cranberries are great for cocktails and dried snacks and are one of the few major fruits that are native to North America. They have vitamin C and good, natural sugars. Basically, cranberries are the bomb.”
“Okay, this is all well and good and I’m sure you could wax poetic about all the food on the cart, but I really want to know about the pancakes. Where do pancakes fall in all this?”
“Oh.” Emerson felt a little shy. “I got those for you.”
Hayley looked surprised. “For me?”
“Yeah.” Emerson scooted closer to Hayley and forked the edge of the pancake. She collected some syrup with the edge of the fork and brought it to Hayley’s mouth. “The menu said they contain blueberries from Maine. I remembered you saying that your favorite memory growing up was at your grandmother’s cabin on the lake. I figured you’d like a reminder of that.”
Hayley took a bite and closed her eyes. Emerson was careful to remove the fork delicately, her attention drawn to the way Hayley’s lips hugged the metal. Hayley hummed happily, and Emerson was glad she’d added the pancakes to the dinner list.
Hayley opened her eyes and Emerson realized she was still hovering with the fork. She started to move away when Hayley took her hand and held her there. She watched as Hayley took the fork from her and gathered some of the large, lush blueberries from atop the pancake stack. She twirled them in the whipped cream and brought them to Emerson’s lips.
“This is my favorite dessert.” Hayley’s voice was soft. “Wild Maine blueberries picked from the backyard and freshly whipped heavy cream from the farm just down the road. This is the taste of summer and my childhood. This is the memory I search for when I’m having a bad day.”
Emerson opened her mouth and accepted Hayley’s offering. The bursting sweetness of the blueberries was delightful as it combined with the richness of the cream. This was a perfect dish all by itself. “Wow.”
Hayley nodded and handed the fork back to Emerson. “That whipped cream is good. But it’s not as good as the cream from Boudreaux’s Farm.”
“I’d like to try it.” Emerson was aware of how close they were sitting. And of how close they were speaking.
“I’ll take you there sometime.” Hayley had the most expressive hazel eyes. They shone with a brightness that captivated Emerson. Her long dark lashes fluttered, and Emerson felt mesmerized. Hayley gave her a small smile. Her lips looked so soft and inviting. Shit. This impromptu dinner was giving her all kinds of impromptu thoughts.
She placed the fork back on the pancake plate—safely out of reach of her hormones and libido—and tried not to think about how badly she wanted Hayley to take her to the quiet Maine farm. Or to her bedroom fifteen feet away. Either or.
Chapter Fifteen
Hayley couldn’t quite believe what was happening. She was lounging on the couch with Emerson having all the food and she’d just offered to take Emerson to the funky little milk farm next to her grandmother’s cabin. After she fed her whipped cream. Directly to her lips. She must be dreaming. There was a lot of silence. Was it quiet in here? Say something, Hayley.
“Have you always been into food this way?” That’s what you decided to lead with? Cool.
Emerson smiled and seemed relaxed. It occurred to Hayley that this might be the most relaxed she’d ever seen her. Maybe the food question wasn’t lame after all. She mentally fist pumped.
“Yes and no. I love food. I love flavors and tastes and the experience of eating. I love the socialness of it. And the intimacy of it. But I have a very specific job with very specific requirements. And I have to be smart about what kind of food I put into my body. My profession depends on it.”
“So ordering all this food the night before a reshoot and costume fitting for the movie isn’t an issue for you?” Hayley teased.
“I like to taste things.” Emerson reached out and swiped her finger through the hazelnut and chocolate drizzled on the crepe. She brought it to her mouth and slipped it past her lips. “Mm. That’s what I mean. I could never consume all that food. But I can taste it. Little bites of all of it, or medium bites, or all the bites. That’s my choice. But I try to make smart choices about the things I put in front of me. So, yes, there’s protein in my milkshake. But it’s still a milkshake. And it’s delicious.”
Are. You. Freaking. Kidding. Me? Hayley was sure she was dead. She’d died, and her family was going to think it was from eating every breakfast food imaginable. But it was actually from Emerson
licking Nutella off her finger. Her life was not lost in vain. She had seen it all.
A miracle happened. Hayley found words from the afterlife. “Is that something you learned from being in the spotlight?”
Emerson picked up the Greek yogurt parfait and shifted on the couch. She angled herself toward Hayley while resting her back on the armrest. “Yes. The fuel you put in your body helps to keep you going. The cleaner the fuel, the longer you can run. It’s a basic principle.” Emerson shrugged. “But I allow myself to live. I work out hard, so I can enjoy food and drink as much as I’d like. It’s not always easy, but I think it’s worth it.”
“It’s definitely working. You look amazing.” And out the window went the miracle. And her career. Hayley couldn’t believe she’d actually said that.
Emerson rested her head on the back of the couch. “Thank you.” She abandoned the parfait and slid down a little, stretching out her legs and rolling her neck. Hayley mirrored her position to give her more space. Emerson gave her an appreciative nod and crossed her ankles next to Hayley’s hip.
“It’s dangerous talking to you, Hayley. It feels too easy.” Emerson’s voice was soft, like a purr.
Hayley knew what she meant. “That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”
Emerson shrugged. “Maybe.”
Hayley thought about the interview from before the feast arrived. “You were different with the Improper Bostonian guy.”
“Different from now?” Emerson leaned forward to exchange her milkshake for a water, and in the process her legs brushed against Hayley’s side. Hayley was aware of their warmth. And her desire to rest her hands on them.
“You were polite in that you answered all his questions, but you didn’t really share anything with him.” She motioned between them. “I feel like you share things with me.”
Emerson rested her head on her hand. “I do.” She paused. “I have a hard time remembering I’m supposed to be working around you. I have a hard time reminding myself to remain guarded. I seem to lose time with you.”
Hayley wasn’t expecting Emerson to be so honest. Nor was she expecting to be so flattered. But she felt it, too. Being with Emerson like this, on the couch, sharing things about herself—it felt totally normal. And right. And that was ridiculous, right? “I know what you mean.”
Emerson nodded. “I know you do. That’s why it’s so tricky with you. Because it’s not. It’s just too damn easy.”
“Can I ask you something?” Hayley had been thinking about something Emerson didn’t answer from earlier. Clearly this guy had been given talking points and advised away from some questions, but he’d asked something that had caused Emerson to pause. One of her tells appeared—she crossed her left leg over her right and broke eye contact to take a sip of water. He’d asked her if she was happy. She’d said yes, but her eyes had dimmed. She was lying.
“I’m always afraid you will.” She smiled with a sigh.
“Because you’re afraid you won’t want to tell me?” Hayley gave in to her desire and dropped her hand to Emerson’s leg.
Emerson’s eyes went to her hand and she massaged the skin softly. “No, because I’m afraid I will.”
“Are you happy, Emerson?” Hayley rubbed her thumb along Emerson’s shin. She wanted to slip under the cuff of her pants and feel her skin. She’d bet her life it was the softest skin she’d ever felt.
“In this moment I am. Here, with my milkshakes. Talking with you.” Emerson looked up at her with those incredible eyes, and she could swear she saw want reflected back in them.
She slipped her hand under the bottom of Emerson’s pants and smiled. She was as soft as she’d hoped. She continued to massage Emerson’s calf as she asked again, “And outside of this room? Outside of this vacuum? What about then?”
Emerson closed her eyes and shifted lower. Hayley pulled Emerson’s feet up onto her lap and attended to her other leg. Emerson’s breath was so quiet and even, that she thought she’d fallen asleep.
“There’s a lot of expectation and chaos outside these walls.” She was surprised when Emerson spoke. “Someone always wants something from me. An endorsement, or an affirmation, a headline…They want my picture. They want me to be perfect, but they pay a handsome price to catch me in the most imperfect positions. People hang from trees to get a glimpse of my life and publish it for all to see. Out there it feels like someone is always around the next corner, waiting to take it all away. And sometimes I think that’s okay. Sometimes I think I’d give it up without a fight.”
Hayley moved lower and took Emerson’s right foot in her hands. Her skin was flawless, impossibly soft and smooth. Her toenails were painted a deep red with one tiny daisy on each big toe. She caressed the skin on the top of her foot. “You mean people like Rachel?”
Emerson didn’t move. She didn’t breathe. She just lay there, still. Hayley worried that she’d pushed too hard. But they’d danced around this for long enough. If Emerson wanted Hayley to get the naked truth, she’d have to share it with her.
When Emerson opened her eyes, she looked tired. She looked…defeated. “Exactly people like that.”
“Emerson.” Hayley was at a crossroads. She thought she wanted to know what happened between them more than anything. And she had a feeling that if she asked, Emerson would tell her. But as she brushed against her skin and felt her warmth, she didn’t think she could do it. She didn’t think she could ask the hard questions. She didn’t want to.
Emerson seemed to understand. She sat up and pulled her legs from Hayley’s hands. She tucked her knees under her chin and braced herself. “Ask me, Hayley. I’ll tell you.”
Hayley sighed. “I know you will.”
Emerson blinked. Her eyes welled with tears and something broke in Hayley.
Before she realized what she was doing, she’d moved forward and knelt in front of Emerson. Emerson looked up at her and she saw it again, the want. The need. She felt it, too. She dipped her head and Emerson’s hands cupped her face as she pulled their lips together.
The kiss was earth-shattering. The softness of Emerson’s lips was more than she could ever have imagined, and the electricity she felt was almost too much to handle. Emerson held her close, clutching at her jaw, and Hayley gasped because she had wanted this for so long, so badly, that it didn’t feel real. But it was. And Emerson’s lips moved against hers in a way that felt too good to be true. Too much and not enough at the same time.
Emerson leaned back and pulled Hayley down on top of her, and Hayley’s hand threaded into Emerson’s hair to keep her mouth close. Emerson kissed her hard and deep, and Hayley lost her breath because she had never been kissed with such want before. She moaned into Emerson’s mouth and was rewarded with Emerson’s tongue against hers. Emerson’s hand slid up her side under her shirt and settled at her back. She made little circles against her skin and Hayley shuddered. She felt dizzy. Breathing was clearly on the back burner to the kissing. So much kissing. She gasped and pulled back.
Emerson ran her hand along Hayley’s cheek and through her hair. She looked up at her with a smile. “I’ve wanted to kiss you all day.”
“Just today? Because I’ve wanted to kiss you for weeks. But I’m glad you finally came around—”
Emerson’s lips were on hers again, and she forgot what she was saying. Emerson sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, and Hayley felt her insides ignite. Emerson licked her lip and held her mouth close as she breathed out, “No one said anything about coming yet. Just kissing.”
“Fuck.” Hayley felt like she might explode.
“Maybe if you’re lucky.” Emerson was hell-bent on killing her. It was decided.
Hayley didn’t know what to say. Emerson laughed and pecked her lips. She shifted out from under Hayley to reach her nearby water. She sipped it before offering it to Hayley, who accepted with a shaky hand, the energy of their kiss still pulsing through her.
The water felt cool on her lips. It was refreshing but in a different w
ay than the way Emerson’s lips felt. That was refreshing, too. Like it had been exactly what she needed and didn’t know it, except she sort of did, or hoped for, anyway.
She put the water aside and ran her thumb against Emerson’s bottom lip. It was cold from the water. Damp, too. She closed the distance between them and held her lips against Emerson’s. She savored the sensation.
After a few moments, Emerson broke the kiss and rested her forehead against Hayley’s. “Ask me.”
“Marry me?”
Emerson laughed and shook her head. “I have too much baggage to answer that question right now.”
Hayley tried again. “Do you want to get married? Ever? Is that something you see yourself doing?”
Emerson reached out and entwined their hands. “Sure. The idea doesn’t scare me, if that’s what you’re asking. But I don’t know that I’m ready for that yet, sorry.”
Hayley gave her an exaggerated pout. “It was worth a shot.”
Emerson nodded. “Mm-hmm.”
Hayley took a deep breath. She knew what Emerson was getting at before, but she realized she didn’t need to know. She’d had an epiphany: it didn’t matter. “You don’t have to tell me, Emerson. I have enough information about you to write the piece without that.”
Emerson looked at her and she got the impression Emerson really saw her in that moment.
Still, she wanted to make sure she understood. “I told you before that I was working on my screenplay a bit, remember?”
“I do.” Her expression was thoughtful.
“Well the truth is, I have. I found my muse. And it’s you.” Hayley exhaled. “The thing is, Emerson, I could have written that entire piece about you after you interrogated me on that balcony.”
Emerson winced. “I’m sorry about that. In hindsight it seems a little harsh.”
“It wasn’t. It was exactly what I needed to check my privilege and understand the depth and complexity of what you were asking of me. You needed me to see you for who you really were, not some circus animal that the media salivates over. You aren’t here for other people’s enjoyment. You aren’t obligated to give anyone anything, information or otherwise. And I needed to see that from your perspective. Which required me being a little uncomfortable for a short while.” She paused. “But that’s all it was—a short while. It wasn’t my whole life or every waking minute of my existence. I’m not chased or pursued or hunted. I’m free to exist in the world in any way I see fit, and that’s just fucking fine because I’m nobody.”
