Page 73 of Fate In Fiction

“Okay, fine. Fuck the clothing.” Emmett throws back the covers of the bed, picks up the remote, and climbs in. “Come on. We’ve been up since the crack of dawn, and a quick nap should help us both.” With a half-smile and hope on my mind, I crawl closer. “A nap, Josie. I didn’t think you’d be so horny when drinking.”

“I’ve been extremely horny for your dick the past few days,” I say, and embrace my snort laugh. “I’ve never said that word out loud. Horny. What a strange word.” He fights his laugh, looking down at me on his chest, then tosses the remote to the other side of the bed.

“Get some rest. We can continue this conversation when you’re not intoxicated.” His fingers begin to brush up and down my arm as I relax into him. “Do you want me to sing you a song?”

“Don’t give me a reason to get more plastered.” His chuckle in his chest vibrates against my ear. Zoning in on his touch, and his settling heartbeat, I bite back the urge to ask the real reason why he called us off. My eyes are heavy, and though I try to fight sleep, the comfort of his arm around me, and fingers trailing up and down my bare side, sends me into dreamland.

* * *

“This really wasn’t needed, Emmett.” I smile as we enter the dimly lit oceanside restaurant.

“I wanted to.” His voice is light, and even though it’s only been a few days of him acting differently, I’ve missed this side of the man I’ve gotten to know. “Eating meals with you has become one of my favorite things.” His hand is on the small of my back, and I’m glad I packed an evening dress on the whim in case something like this happened. “No harm with enjoying a date night in Miami.”

“We aren’t actually a you know what.” I’m not sure why I can’t bring myself to say the word “couple,” but the off-kilter smile on Emmett’s face, and the way he responded earlier, has me thinking it had less to do with the drinking, and more to do with the fact that he does have a heart, and it’s finally seeing how to care.

“Josie?” He gives my hand a squeeze, but doesn’t ask where my mind was. “Would you like a Michelin-star dinner or not?”

“Who am I to avoid exploring new tastes?” Winking, I follow Emmett as he drops his name, and we head to our table.

“Behave, little darlin’,” Emmett whispers in my ear. “We still haven’t discussed the drunken stunt you pulled this afternoon.”

I glance at the menu, which is more of a statement as to what is being served tonight. My voice feels lost as we keep to ourselves for most of dinner, and even though there’s tension between us, it’s not uncomfortable.

If this afternoon at the volleyball game taught me anything, it was that fulfillment never came past the initial quick pique of interest a guy threw at me. None of them were interested in actually getting to know me. It's not that I couldn’t keep something brief and physical, but should I let myself be nothing more than a cheap night? Suddenly, my stomach turns, and it’s not from eating the strange dish, the name of which I cannot remember or pronounce. My eyes travel up to the person who has devoted themselves to me the past few months and has even learned how to read me. He blinks, running his finger over his bottom lip, but this time, his furrowed eyebrows tell me he can’t place my thoughts. Tossing my napkin on the table, I stand.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom, then I’m ready to leave if you are.” I hear my voice strain, but I smile to mask it.

He nods, glancing around the restaurant as I walk to the bathroom in the back. The long mirror by the sinks catches my eye as I stand and watch the dim yellow light cast a seductive glow around me. This lighting is a complete mood. All that’s missing is Emmett walking up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, and leaning down to kiss my neck. My head tilts, flipping my stomach with the thought of how his large hands feel sliding across my body, and pulling me tight against him. He’s the type of guy I’d never get bored of. I wish he would stop fighting to admit that he feels something more for me. Shaking my head, I bring myself back to reality and take a deep breath.

My eyes trace the floor as I walk back to our table, a pair of heels catching my attention as I get closer. Emmett laughs, and Criselda flipping Myers rests her hand on his forearm––which he doesn’t rip out from under her pretty manicured claws. They both spot me as I continue walking forward, but her hand remains in place, sitting in my chair. Her snarled smile spreads over her contoured cheekbones, and she bats her thick fake eyelashes.

“I didn’t realize seat warmers were included in the price of this meal.” I let the naïve disbelief come through, but hold a hint of sarcasm. “And you are?”

Her eyebrows shoot up, as if she’s not used to being recognized as the B-list actress she is. She catches herself and smiles, sliding her hand off of Emmett, and turns to face me. “Criselda Myers. I’m sure you’ve heard that name. I spotted Emmett and figured it would be nice to catch up.” I glance toward Emmett, who, surprisingly isn’t looking at her as she stares his way for his reaction. “We spent a few yacht parties together over the past summer.”

“Do I clap for her?” I say, as Emmett continues to give me a blank stare.

“You’re funny.” Criselda’s fake laugh cuts through the quiet of the restaurant. “You’re so-called friend, Sarah, blabs about you a lot.”

“Stella?” Did she tip Criselda off about our whereabouts?

“Sure.” Her voice remains bored. “The producer’s daughter. God, she was supposed to be an in to reconnect with you.” She looks directly at Emmett. “Now you’re with her?” She looks me up and down, and I get her confusion. I’m not the face of a Hollywood star or magazine cover girl. “There is no way she’s coming on the girls’ trip that Vogue wants to shoot.” I don’t want to believe my best friend is that fame hungry, but all signs are pointing true. Well, this fucking sucks.

My arms cross as a tight are you for real smile forms.

“I knew Stella was a bitch,” Emmett says directly to me, then snaps his attention back to Criselda. “Just like you.”

“It’s business, baby.” Criselda shrugs, lifting my drink to her lips for a sip. “I introduced Emmett to his summer of models, his funds fueled the yacht, and the professional photographer on board to give me the social media exposure I needed.” She winks at him as my stomach churns. “I also threw in a few dirtier perks.”

“We all have regrets and things we wish we could take back.” He keeps his voice low, so no one around can hear, but holds an angry tone.

Will I be one of them?

“Whatever, Wheaton.” Criselda picks up her handbag and shoots me another fake smile. “Everything is a give and take in this world, kiddo.” With that, she strides away without another word.

Straightening my spine, I take a seat and keep my voice calm to avoid a bigger scene. The truth in her words causes a sting in my nose, but I hold it together. Give and take is all that’s gotten Emmett and I into this situation, and now I’m not sure the if it’s worth the beginnings of heartache. “Let me know when you’re ready to walk out of here together, Rookie.” I don’t say another word as he pays and takes my hand as we walk out.

The evening sky is grey as the humid wind picks up. Waves grow, crashing onto the shore, signaling a storm like the one I feel inside. Emmett and his past are no surprise. He has lived a wild life, but seeing her touching him had me channeling all restraint to not drive a fork through her hand. My feet quicken their pace toward the beach as the need to clear my mind screams within me. Humiliation hits deep in my soul with the confirmation of being used by someone I thought was my best friend. I’m a pawn in Stella’s book, as Emmett was in mine. I stop, hitting the sand. Was? Emmett continues to follow me as I walk toward the water.