After All(63)

"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.

"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.