Page 32 of A Little Bit Extra

“Mhm.” He nods. “You’ll find that I’m always serious, Cass.”

I roll my eyes. Again. “He doesn’t even know her. You don’t even know her,” I retort.

“You forget I met her once already, but, for real, she is more than welcome. I’m sure there will be room in the club for one more person.”

“If you say so, birthday boy.” I smile.

It’s Emmett’s turn to groan and roll his eyes. He gives my shoulder a playful shove, almost spilling my coffee.

“Hey!” I try to sound stern, but I do a terrible job because I just end up laughing.

“Sorry.” He bites his lip. My eyes quickly shift to track his movements, returning to his gaze. For someone I’m trying awfully hard to remain professional with, I’m doing quite the opposite. If someone were to walk into the trailer, they’d see us sitting a little too close to one another. Emmett turned toward me, still leaning on his hand, looking almost longingly into my eyes. I'm still slumped, my face angled toward him, our eyes locked.

I bring my coffee up to my lips and take a small sip. I keep getting stuck in quiet moments like this with Emmett. It’s not awkward or intentional silence, it’s just…comfortable. I try to think of a time when I felt like this and I’m having a hard time remembering when I felt so safe and at home with someone else. I mean, aside from Lucy and Annie, of course. Besides them, I’ve never hung around anyone else long enough to develop a deeper relationship.

Luckily, I love them, but I’m stuck with them for obvious reasons. Emmett is different. I could easily ignore him and choose to treat knowing him as part of the job. But that would mean saying no to a lot of things I want to do. I wouldn’t be able to text him and answer his silly questions about my favorite things. He wouldn’t wink at me in passing, something I’ve come to look forward to. I would have had to say no to his party.

But, I am making the irresponsible choice. I haven’t quite figured out why I’m choosing to let thoughts of Emmett invade my brain when I’m busy trying to land an acting gig. You know, the whole reason I moved to Los Angeles five years ago. I’ve tried for so long. I’m not giving up, but just trying to live my life for once? Letting myself be selfish? I shouldn’t have to give myself reasons to do something outside of improving my acting, yet I need to rationalize it. If I don’t, then it feels like I’m already on the road to forgetting my why.

“I should go,” I say. Neither of us have moved from our spots, but I know if I don’t leave, I’ll make a poor decision and kiss him or something.

“You’re busy tonight?”

I nod a few times in response. “I have an audition. And tomorrow I have acting class.”

“Sounds like we’ll need to make up for a lot of lost time on Friday,” Emmett says with a sly smirk.

His response is different from that of most people I’ve tried to be friends with. I’m normally rather busy with various jobs and acting classes, so I have little time to hang out with someone. It wasn’t something I prioritized. Acting always comes first. It was easier when I started to hang out with people in the industry, but they were always just as busy or they wanted the same jobs I wanted. It was easier to not try for new friends.

I wasn’t even looking for Emmett, he just kind of happened and now look where we are.

I stand up from the couch and walk into the kitchen to throw away the trash from my breakfast. When I turn around, Emmett is standing by the trailer door, waiting for me.

I walk up to him, stopping a few feet away. I look up to meet his gaze.

“What?” I ask, momentarily getting lost in his big, brown eyes.

He shakes his head like he wants to say something, but I won’t push him. It's possible he wanted to hug me, but I won't comment on it. The very idea of laying a hand on him fills me with such anticipation that it feels as though my entire being would collapse, succumbing to an overwhelming desire.

It's not a good idea considering I still have work to do. Also, we are friends. Friends, friends, friends. Maybe if I keep saying it, my brain will eventually process it and instruct my body to stop reacting to Emmett. It’s not helping.

Emmett's gentle touch lingers on my skin as he leans to the left, making my thoughts scatter. I tense and the heat rises in my cheeks. I will need to be a bit more stern with my “Emmett is only a friend” talk to myself.

Emmett swings the door open, peeking his head out and looking to the left and right before bringing it back inside and glancing toward me.

“You’re clear,” he says.

Right. Our friendship is mostly a secret. I make a mental note to text him later about how I should act at the party, because I don’t know who all will be there. Should I pretend I don’t know him? Has he even thought about this? Why does he even want me there? Okay, I’m overthinking and it’s barely the beginning of the workday. I have all day to spiral. I don’t need to start now.

“I’ll text you later,” I say as I walk out of his trailer and toward the doors that lead into the set.

By the end of the day, I’m exhausted. I didn’t know Marcy did this much stuff, but I suppose it’s why I’m here to help with most of it. I was helping Ed one moment, Carla the next, and some other random department would need me. It was chaotic and I’m ready to eat Indian food and veg out on the couch.

But first, I have to stop by a casting office for my audition.

After signing in and letting the receptionist know I’ve arrived, I sit in the waiting room until someone calls me in.

My phone buzzes with a text from Emmett wishing me luck. I need it.

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