Page 60 of A Little Bit Extra

“Do you think I’m making a bad decision?” I ask Lucy, turning around to face her.

“What? Seeing him? Pursuing something?” she asks, and I give a gentle nod. “No, I don’t think so. I think you’re finally allowing yourself to trust someone else and let them in. You’ve spent the last five years focused on acting, and acting alone. You haven’t wanted to include anyone else in your little bubble.”

“I include you. And Annie,” I argue, even though I know she’s speaking the truth. All of my relationships at the acting class are surface level. I'm careful about oversharing and avoid asking questions. It keeps it easier. I don’t feel pressured to remember birthdays, or kids’ names, or where they are vacationing in the summer. It was the same with any guy I saw. A part of me frequently held back, preventing me from fully opening up to them. I always kept a wall up, even though it did nothing to protect me. I still got a role stolen from me.

“We don’t count.”

I shrug.

“But I will say to be careful. Like I heard, I know you don’t know what he’s doing next and if it’s something at the studio, what does that mean for whatever you two have? Will it always need to be this secret? Will it force you to quit the studio in order to be with him? Maybe ask him that tonight.”

“That’s a good thought. Okay, thank you. I don’t know why I’m overthinking it. I’m trying really hard to live in the moment, I swear. Thanks for talking this out with me.”

Lucy leaves the room, heading out to change before going into work at the diner. I do the same, getting dressed to go to Emmett’s. I decide to bring an overnight bag, knowing I’d rather be prepared and have it.

I take a deep breath and one last look in the mirror, trying to calm my racing heartbeat. “It’s going to be fine.” After one more deep sigh, I gather my thoughts and feel ready to go.

On my way out of the apartment, I snatch my keys and slip on a pair of white shoes. I call out to Lucy to let her know I’m leaving. She replies “don’t get caught” which is funny because it’s true. We can’t get caught. I would have avoided Emmett like the plague if I knew my feelings would start getting involved in this. I like him, truly like him, and it’s annoying.

I was doing just fine before him, working at the diner and trying to make something out of my acting. He just had to come in that night and look at me with those eyes. Those beautiful, big brown eyes that just draw you in from the start. As soon as he winked at me and my stomach twisted in knots, I should have known that he was going to be a distraction.

Emmett has found his way into a little sliver of my heart. I don’t know what to expect from this, but I’m at least willing to put myself out there. If shit hits the fan, I’m hoping Emmett will at least defend me and I won’t lose my job. I can’t lose another job in the industry and have more people think negatively of me because I’m sleeping with the principal actor of the movie.

On my drive to his apartment, I think of ways to avoid Emmett at work. I could stay away from the set, eat at weird times, and try to steer clear of the trailers. I can’t fully avoid him, but I know myself and now that I’ve gotten to experience Emmett in bed, it’s going to be hard for me to not flirt with him or just stare at him. Someone will find it odd when I can’t take my eyes off him. I also don’t want to distract him. I know it’s a busy week at the studio and they can’t afford to re-film every scene if his mind is elsewhere. And I know it would happen because it did yesterday, and they had to re-film three scenes.

The guard at the garage waves me through. I still don’t understand how he knows who I am. Is it the color of the car? Like when you go to pick up groceries and you state the model and color of your car? I shake my head. It’s not something I need to go down a rabbit hole on. I know my mind is currently latching onto anything to distract myself from thinking about Emmett.

I carefully look around, making sure no one was following me, even though it’s late and I know no one followed me. Still, it’s fun to pretend. When I make it to his floor, I stand outside his apartment with my back to his door. Should I knock? How should I knock? A few light taps? Do I announce my presence? Why am I suddenly questioning how to knock on a damn door?

I decide to text him. Except, when I’m in the middle of composing a succinct text message, the door opens behind me.

Emmett’s hand wraps around my right wrist. I’m pulled into his apartment. Emmett slams the door shut and pins me to it with his mouth on mine.

My hands are still by my side when he removes his mouth from mine. I think I’m in shock because I don’t speak first.

“Hi, Sass.” He smiles, letting go of my wrist and walking into the kitchen. He glances at the bag in my hand. He says nothing, but he smiles to himself before he turns away. “I made chicken parmesan. I hope that’s okay.” He glances over his shoulder at me, then returns his attention back to the oven to pull something out of it.

“That’s great.” I set my things by the door and slip my shoes off. I walk over to the island, and immediately the perfectly set table draws my eyes. Before there was nothing on the table, but now it’s lined with a table runner, two already lit candles, and a vase of flowers. My gaze trails down the length of the table and lands on the kitchen, on the island specifically, which is currently loaded with food. Yes, he made the chicken parmesan, but there’s salad, and bread, and another kind of salad, and 10 different dressings, and two dessert options.

“I know, it’s a lot.”

I look up at him to find him already looking at me. He has a sheepish grin on his face and a slight tint of pink on his cheeks, which could be from the vulnerability or the heat of the kitchen. He takes the kitchen towel that’s in his hand and tosses it over his shoulder.

“I didn’t know what you like. I just wanted this to be perfect.”

I walk around the island to where he’s standing. Touching his left shoulder, I stand on my tiptoes, leaning toward him to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“It’s great, Emmett. Thank you. Can I help with anything?” I look around to find something to do, but it looks as if he’s somehow did everything.

“Nope, you can take a seat. I’ll bring everything over.” He leans toward me, this time leaving a kiss on my temple before turning back around to tend to something by the stove.

Just as I'm about to turn and walk to the table, I pause, realizing that I haven't taken in the details of Emmett. Not just glancing in his direction, but letting myself take him all in.

His hair, dark as tree roots, dangles neatly around his face. No matter what he does, a few strands of hair always find their way in front, shading his eyes. He’s wearing a simple shirt, but I’ve never seen someone wear a t-shirt like Emmett wears a t-shirt. It hugs his shoulders and emphasizes all the right places while still leaving room for comfort. He’s wearing my favorite pair of dark denim jeans, complementing the stark white color of his shirt.

“Cassie.”

I take my time returning my gaze to his eyes, drifting from his legs, up his chest, to his face. “Hm?” I ask, my mind not all the way there as I study his eyes.

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