Page 22 of A Little Bit Extra

His eyes are glossy. I place a hand on his right thigh and give a light squeeze.

“I don’t mean to get emotional.” He laughs and wipes a tear from his eye. “I don’t share this with many people but for some reason, I wanted to share it with you. I felt like I needed to share it with you. And you just got it without me having to explain anything.”

He brings his left hand to clasp mine and gives it a squeeze. I want to tell him I get him, that I understand him because it’s what I’m going through as well. But, I want him to have this moment.

Have you ever met someone that you just know will be in your life forever? You just click instantly and blend so well together. I thought what I felt for Emmett at the diner was just lust and attraction, but now I wonder if we knew each other in a past life.

We sit there for a moment, maybe too long, but we enjoy the silence together. It’s a moment of silence for our dreams that feel unachievable and far away.

My phone buzzing breaks the moment. Emmett removes his hand from mine and stands up. He rakes a hand through his hair, looking at the floor with a small smile on his face. A slight tint of pink appears on his cheeks.

I reach into the pocket of my skirt and take my phone out. The notification was a text from my acting class teacher, reminding me about the reading we have tomorrow. Shit.

“Everything okay?” Emmett asks.

I look up to meet his gaze and nod. “I’m in this acting class and I forgot I have to rehearse something before tomorrow. It’s been a little hectic with the new job and…” I pause and give a slight nod to show that Emmett is a recent addition to my normal mix of activities.

I stand up from the couch and hand him his story.

“Anything I can help with? I’ve been told I’m a great rehearsal partner.”

I wouldn’t doubt that. I’ve seen him on set. He exudes confidence with every line he delivers. He not only films perfectly almost every time, but he also helps everyone around him. If someone is struggling with a line, he’s right there to help them rehearse it until they feel like they’ve got it. Or, if they’re filming and there’s a lull, he improvs. It’s impressive, but I can’t rehearse with him.

Trust me, I want to. It’s not every day you have an A-list actor offer to run lines with you, but I don’t want his judgment. I like to think I’m a decent actor, maybe not the best, since I can’t even land a job, but I know I’m good. I mostly like dramas, anything that I can bring extra sass and flare to. That’s what I normally showcase. This time, my teacher thought it’d be fun to go out of our comfort zones. She could have stuck me with horror, or action… Instead, she stuck me with romance.

Out of all genres, she chose romance. The one script that ends in a happily ever after. I stopped believing in happily ever afters a long time ago. You can only be so hopeful when your mom stops believing in you and any love interest slowly fades. So, acting with Emmett? It sounds like a dream and I’d very much like to explore that side of our relationship, what it’d be like to pretend to be other people, but I can’t.

Because of that, I shake my head. “I appreciate the offer, I do, but I’m okay. Thank you, though.” I smile. “I should go home, otherwise I’ll be even more stressed about this tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow though, right? I’m not sure when you work at the studio.”

He walks out of the room, and I follow him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yes. I think Marcy’s going to have me come in most days during the week. Why? Can’t go a day without seeing me?” I look over my shoulder as I walk to the front door to gather my things. I know I’m flirting, but I can’t help it. Emmett just has a way of bringing it out of me.

“I’d survive.” I catch him wink before I turn back around to slip on my shoes. “But I’m happy to see you tomorrow, too.”

“I know.” I smile smugly.

“Text me when you get home?”

“I’ll do whatever helps you sleep at night, Emmett.” I say the first answer that comes to my mind, which apparently has sexual undertones. Emmett opens his mouth, but immediately closes it.

I expect him to make a joke or comment on what I just said, but he doesn’t. Why does he have to be so frustratingly nice? Why can’t he be like every other person in this industry that I’ve tried to befriend? Instead, I just want to be around him more. I’m glad I have acting class tomorrow and a shift at the diner the day after because I’m getting attached to Emmett more than I want to.

“I’ll text you,” I finally say, mentally pretending I never made a sexual joke in the first place.

“I had fun tonight, Cass,” he says. He’s standing to the right of the door, waiting for me to leave. He has one hand in his pocket, but he brings the other to his face. He drags his pointer finger down one side, his thumb down the other, meeting them at the bottom of his chin. He does that a few times, as if moments from tonight are replaying in his head and he wants to savor them.

I take one step. Two steps. Three steps. I walk until I’m inches from Emmett. I lean forward, wrapping my arms around his waist. He takes the hint and mimics me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

“Thank you for sharing your writing with me,” I say into his chest.

He takes a deep breath. It’s the kind of breath that makes me wonder if he’s been holding it in ever since handing me those pages with his most treasured words. The relief he must feel to not only hear my thanks for sharing something so close to him, but also to not be mixed with judgment or mockery for the one hobby he loves with his whole heart.

“I’d share anything with you. You only have to ask,” he says. I feel the truth in those words.

It’s at this moment I know we are both feeling similarly about whatever is going on between us. He knows I don’t date. I know he has a past of people using him. It’s kind of funny that we appeared in each other’s lives and two days later seem to be inseparable. It feels like I’m in high school and I just found out a girl in my class also loves Harry Styles and reading romance novels and we become best friends instantly.

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