by Karina Halle
For three…well, damn. It’s not like Emmett can tell that I’m giving credit where credit is due, but in person, here, now, I can totally understand the appeal and the hold he has, not only on the hot actress of the week, but on all the people I know who constantly fawn over him.
He’s taller than I expected too, since most people on TV are short. Maybe six feet, which is perfect for me even when I wear heels. He also has this way he moves that’s hard to put my finger on. I pick up a lot on that with people, their walk, the way they operate their body, how they occupy the space they’re in. Emmett has a strut that’s borderline cocky, yet there’s a fluidity about him that’s unmistakable. My brain trips over itself as it tries to recall something I’d read somewhere, how he was doing musicals in London for a long time before he started up his career again with Boomerang. He must know how to dance.
So yeah, he moves like his body knows how to move and then there’s his body itself, which looks perfect in his tuxedo, with broad shoulders like a swimmer (did he compete in swimming before he got the role on Degrassi or was it hockey?), a slim waist, long legs.
And, as he gets closer, I really take in his face.
Gone is that boy-next-door. Oh, there’s traces of it with his wavy, shiny hair and winning smile, but there’s a look to his eyes that’s far more man than boy. Brooding and primal in one moment, playful and mischievous in the other.
Of course the closer he walks to me, the more I have to look away. The man obviously has an ego I don’t want to add to. I don’t know what it is about actors and models or just guys that ring an eleven on the handsomeness scale, but I have some kind of aversion to them. Actually I have an aversion to cocky men in general. I’ve seen firsthand what damage an ego can do.
Will makes the introduction and everyone around us immediately starts talking about Degrassi. I’ve never been so proud to have not watched the show before. Admitting you don’t watch it is akin to saying you don’t like Bryan Adams or ketchup chips and you think Justin Trudeau’s butt is just “okay.”
I mean, don’t get me started on Bryan Adams. The song “Run to You” makes my blood boil. Have you ever listened to the lyrics?
But we’re obviously all here for a wedding, not to talk about Emmett, and soon Janice comes back and tells us to get in our places.
As Emmett and Will walk ahead of Tiffany and I, I get a whiff of Emmett’s scent. It’s fresh, like soap or shampoo, and something a bit herbal. Rosemary? Whatever it is, it’s bracing and I like it, enough that it awakens the heat between my legs.
Crap. When was the last time I got laid? I start counting back the weeks to my last date, a guy named Nels I met on Tinder. The date ended in sex but it didn’t end in an orgasm. Not for me, anyway. It was just as well, the guy was all sorts of intense in an abrasive, creepy way. I sure know how to pick ‘em.
Still, even though I have no real interest in Emmett, it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t look good for Jackie’s wedding. I steal away to the bathroom for a moment to freshen up my face and give myself a good once over.
I look better than I normally do, I’ll say that much. The makeup artist Jackie hired is a total professional and did an amazing job. My blue eyes look even bluer thanks to the rose-gold tones of the eye shadow and my pale skin looks warmer with the strategic layering of bronzer and highlighting. My normally thinner upper lip looks plumped up with nude lipstick and liner and I swear she’s done some magic with contour powder under my chin.
But when I look away from my face and at my body, I wince. Even though the dress is super flattering, I didn’t wear Spanx and you can see every lump and bump if you look closely.
No one is going to look closely, I remind myself.
But it’s hard not to be critical. In a city where everyone is thin and fit and perpetually wearing yoga pants, I feel like I standout like a sore thumb. I’m currently a size ten after working my ass off for the last six months trying to drop two sizes to fit in this dress and I still don’t feel good enough. I’ve got muscle and I’m stronger but I’ve got a layer of fluff that won’t budge. And most of the men here don’t want the fluff. I’m a Marilyn in a Gigi Hadid world.
Luckily I know how to fake confidence. I throw my shoulders back and strut out of the building and to the grass where Tiffany and Emmett have gathered with Janice.
What’s interesting about Emmett is the more I try not to look at him, the more he looks at me. I know this because I have well-honed peripheral vision. I can practically read out of the corner of my eye. That said, I honestly can’t say why I’m having such a hard time taking him in–maybe I think if I stare at him too long I’ll get sucked into some hot guy black hole where I’ll lose all sense of self-worth.
Actually, I’m correct. Because when I finally do meet his eyes for a moment, I’m momentarily stunned. Unable to look away. And my heart does this funny skip and a hop, like I’ve got some newborn bunny in there taking its first stumbling steps.
At this range his eyes are vivid, ice-blue, like the lake water in New Zealand where I backpacked when I was twenty. They’re beautiful.
And he knows it. I can see that self-awareness in his eyes too.
I try not to look at him again, even when he asks me questions and makes small talk and especially when he calls me “prickly.”
Fuck yeah I’m prickly. I wear my cactus badge with pride.
Then the romantic strains of Jurassic Park start to play and it’s our cue to start walking down the aisle. I reluctantly take Emmett’s arm as Tiffany gleefully takes the other.
Then he leans in close, so close (too close) I can smell the mint on his breath.
“You know they both warned me to stay away from you,” he says, his voice low and rough enough to make the hair on my arms stand-up.
What?!
“Who did?” I ask.
The bastard just grins at me like he’s got a secret he can’t tell.
Chapter 3
Alyssa
Who told Emmett to stay away from me? Is that more for my protection or for his?
It’s got to be Will and Ted. Jackie wouldn’t say that. Would she? Then again, she said in the limo earlier that he might ruin shit.
I’m thinking all of this while Emmett, Tiffany and I are slowly walking down the aisle like some celebrated ménage.
I try to snap about of it, pasting a big smile on my face as we pass by all the guests. I’m still smiling even when I look at handsome Will at the altar, nervously waiting for his bride.
Was it you? I think to him but he’s got a big, shit-eating grin on his face and I know I’m the least of his concerns right now.
I take my place with Tiffany and keep glancing around Will to see Emmett, hoping he’ll give me a hint. For once, he’s not looking at me.
In fact, he’s doing the right thing and looking straight down the aisle as Jackie and Ted make their appearance.
And just like that, I force myself to pull my head out of my fat ass and concentrate on the big moment, the main event, the couple of the year.
Beautiful Jackie slowly making her way down a rose petal strewn aisle on the arm of her father. Ted is grinning from ear to ear. And beside me, Will is stiffening up. I sneak a glance at him and see tears building in his eyes.
Oh my god. Is this going to make me cry? I’ve been to a dozen weddings over the last few years and none of them made me even remotely tear up. It’s not that I have a black heart or I’m soulless. I’m just…what was it again? Prickly. Thorny. And those are only because of a build-up of cynicism. Eventually the prickles will build up enough to become a coat of armor. Or something.
But this time my emotions don’t stand much of a chance.
The ceremony is absolutely beautiful.
It doesn’t matter that Jackie picked the shortest version because she didn’t want to bore people. It could have been two hours long of them up there, staring at each other, holding hands and talking and I wouldn’t have complained. I can’t think of a more roma
ntic couple out there. Even their vows–which they each wrote, of course–had me tearing up.
Especially when Jackie promised to be “all in” for Will and Will promised to forever be her Prince Charming.
Cue the waterworks.
Then they kissed–one hell of a deep, sweet, emotive kiss–and everyone clapped and hooted and hollered and the flood down my face just got worse.
“Oh my god,” Tiffany whispers to me as Will and Jackie hold hands, going down the aisle and waving at everyone with Ty in tow. “Your makeup is getting ruined.”
“Oh no,” I mumble and notice Emmett and Ted making their way over to us.
To Ted’s credit he looks extremely misty-eyed which is probably why he doesn’t fire any zingers my way. Emmett, however, is raising an eyebrow as he glances me over. Amused.
I turn away from him with a scowl and grab my clutch I’d placed on a chair. While everyone starts getting up and heading into the building to the reception area, I slyly check my face in the compact. The makeup artist had the intuition to put on waterproof mascara but there are still tracks where my tears ran over my blush and foundation. I discreetly touch up my makeup while sniffling and try to get a hold of myself.
Stay prickly, I remind myself, only because I know if I’m getting weepy and emotional over Jackie and Will and their ever-so-sweet romance, I know it’s only a matter of time before I get depressed and hopeless over my own dating situation.
I should probably stay away from more wine, that’s for sure.
Luckily, the next hour or so is distracting while we watch Will and Jackie take their wedding photos. At one point, Emmett takes us down to the docks so they can pose on his boat.
It’s a nice looking sailboat, I have to admit, as far as sailboats go. I mean, it’s not sinking and it has a mast and looks like it cost a lot. That’s really the extent of my sailboat knowledge. Emmett seems completely at ease on it too. The boat’s name is called Sick Buoy which I know is a Social Distortion song. His humor in naming the boat catches me off guard and endears him to me for just a second.
Then it goes away when I remember what he said earlier.
When we all start heading back along the dock, I impulsively reach out and grab the sleeve of Emmett’s tux, pulling him back so we’re the last ones.
“Hey sunshine,” he says to me, raising his brows at me in surprise. “Feeling better? You cried more than Will did up there.”
I glare at him. “I’m fine. Just caught up in the moment. Hey, what did you mean they warned you not to talk to me.”
“Actually they said to stay away from you,” Emmett says, lowering his voice, his eyes darting up toward Will and Ted. I knew it!
Also, his eyes are kind of dreamy.
Also, shut up Alyssa.
“Will and Ted,” I say, gritting my teeth as if they’re the names of a life-long nemesis. “Did they say why?”
He shrugs. “They only had nice things to say about you. Don’t worry.”
I feel a little bit better. “Then why did they say it?”
“I don’t know. I guess they think I’ll corrupt you.”
I don’t want to smile but I am. I’m strangely touched by Will and Ted’s possessiveness. And like reverse psychology, the fact that they want me to stay away from Emmett actually makes me want him. Not enough to do anything about it but I have rebellion in my blood.
Then there’s the fact that if Ted and Will warned Emmett to back off, that means Emmett must have shown some interest in me. Right?
“Do you think I should listen to them?” Emmett asks with a cocksure smile that makes my limbs feel all hot and gooey. His eyes skirt all over my face, resting on my lips. “Or try and corrupt you anyway?”
I can feel my face burn up. I should have worn sunscreen today.
“What are you guys talking about?” Tiffany says, staring at us suspiciously over her shoulder as she walks, now starting to trail behind.
“Nothing,” I tell her, starting to walk faster to catch up with her.
But my dress is long.
The docks are rough.
It catches on a splinter of wood and then I’m stepping on it in my heels and pitching forward, trying to stop myself from falling, the movement sending me sideways.
Falling over like a tree into the cold, dark water.
Only I don’t hit.
An iron grip wraps around my forearm, keeping me in place.
I stare down at my reflection in the water for a moment, my face pale and shocked against the charcoal-blue, and it’s like I’m suspended in time. I imagine everything around me paused while I’m hanging between the dock and the water.
And then I’m yanked back to reality.
I’m on the dock and Emmett is pulling me to him. It was his grip that saved me.
How the fuck did he manage to pull my heavy deadweight back on the dock without going over himself? Is he more superhero than villain?
“Are you okay?” he asks, brow furrowed in concern. The breezy quality of his eyes has changed to one of intense focus.
I blink at him, my heart racing.
Tiffany looks horrified as she comes over. “Oh my god, Alyssa, you were this close to getting eaten by a shark.”
“There are no sharks here,” Emmett tells her.
“Wanna bet? She has the worst luck with animals. If there are no sharks, she’d at least be molested by a porpoise. At least.”
While they talk, I glance over her shoulder at the others and they head up the ramp. So far no one noticed how I almost ruined everything. It’s not like I had a spare bridesmaid dress in case this one went for a swim.
“Yeah,” I say, wetting my lips before my gaze drops to his hand still tight around my arm. I kind of like the fact that he’s still holding onto me. Which is why I say, “You can let go of me now.”
“Are you sure?” he asks. “Because you seem like you might fall over again. Can’t say you’re the first woman to fall for me.”
I narrow my eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s this stupid dress. It doesn’t belong on a dock.”
“I think maybe you don’t belong on a dock,” Tiffany says, taking my hand and pulling me toward her until Emmett lets go. “Come on, let’s get on dry land before something worse happens.”
We head up the ramp toward the building and as we walk I can feel Emmett just behind me and my arm is still throbbing where he grabbed me. Man, he must have the strength and balance of…well, I hate to use the superhero adjective again. But that was impressive.
So he saved you from falling in the ocean, I tell myself. So what. Anyone would do that.
I know I’m telling myself these things so I don’t fall for his charms.
And it seems to work.
My raging hormones don’t stand a chance against the jaded landscape of my brain.
“I think he likes you big time,” Tiffany whispers to me later as we get our food from the buffet table. I wish Jackie’s nervousness had passed on to me because I want to eat everything here and I think I just might. It’s too bad I don’t like working out as much as I love eating.
“Who?” I ask Tiffany, scanning around the reception room. Everyone at their tables is staring at us longingly since we get to go first for food. I feel like I should pile my plate extra high, just to rub it in. Heh heh.
“Your hero,” she says, using a crab leg to point to me for emphasis. “The villain.”
I roll my eyes. “He is not my hero.”
“I just saw him save you from drowning.”
“I know how to swim, Tiff.”
I look past her down the table to where Emmett and Ted are starting to pick at the salad selection. Just as I suspect, Emmett takes a huge heaping pile of lettuce, enough that it takes up most of his plate. He probably has to eat really well to stay in such good shape. How boring.
I decide to grab extra dessert later out of some weird kind of spite.
“Why don’t you like him?” she asks.
I glance at her. “What do you mean?”
“You bristle every time he’s near or I’m talking about him. It’s like you’re a shifter and all the hairs along your back are poking out.”
“You really do paint the strangest pictures.”
She shrugs. “Anyway, I think he wants to get in your dress.”
I don’t know why but what she’s saying is bringing out so many conflicting feelings. On one hand, of course he does, he’s a womanizer. On the other hand, I’m a far cry from his flavor of the week. When you’ve had my backlist of dating disasters, it’s hard to believe that anyone would be interested in you, especially an extremely hot actor who can have anyone he wants.
“I don’t like guys like him. You know this.”
“Babes? You don’t like babes? Because Alyssa, he is such a babe.”
“Such a babe,” I repeat, shaking my head. I hadn’t heard that term in a long time. “He’s a babe. Fine,” I admit and then something glowers in my heart. “But he reminds me too much of my father. And some exes I’ve had. I know his type. I know what they do to women. What my father did to my mom. They aren’t faithful. They aren’t reliable. They’re never in it for the long run.”
Tiffany’s expression softens. “Oh.” She smiles up at the cook who’s cutting off a slice of roast beef and then lowers her voice. “You’ve never mentioned your father before.”
I sigh. “It’s nothing.” Nothing I want to get into here and now.
“But aren’t all your sisters married with children?”
My sigh deepens. “Yes. That doesn’t mean all their marriages are amazing either. Anyway, we probably shouldn’t be talking about this at a wedding of all places, especially not Jackie and Will’s.”
“Well, we both know their happily-ever-after is for real,” Tiffany says.
But when we get back to our table, my eyes go to Emmett as he continues to get his food, this time getting extra portions of roast beef. Damn he gives good back.
