by Brie Kraus
“What? Luke called you? Why would Luke call you?” Emma practically shouted.
“Why wouldn’t he? He was really worried about you—something about you running away from him and hooking up with some random loser in London. I was so concerned. Of course, I told him it couldn’t be true; you loved Luke so much. I mean, imagine you doing something so horrible to poor Luke—”
“Actually, I did leave Luke.”
Becca’s brown eyes widened as she looked away from Emma’s wardrobe. “What? How could you do that? You were obsessed with him.”
“I was not obsessed with him! I just—I thought we had something good together.” Emma thought about saying she had loved him before remembering that Julian had told her that she had never actually loved him. “I was wrong about him. We weren”t what I thought.”
“Well, gosh,” Becca said, walking around the bed to hug her. “That must have been horrible for you, sweetie.”
Emma returned the embrace. Maybe Becca would understand. “Yeah, it really was. I felt like everyone had been lying to me and—”
“Wait though! The other thing he said wasn’t true was it? You haven’t come to London to hook up with some loser rebound have you?”
“Well I…” Emma started.
“Because I told Luke I thought that was just stupid. I mean, you never really dated anyone; you were like a dating saint, and, honestly, all the girls were so surprised when you hooked up with Luke because he was so hot, and no guy had ever paid you any attention before, not that you ever cared, but, still, it was a relief. So, when Luke said you had another guy here I was like, no way.”
Emma let her finish, her eyebrows going up into her hair.
It was true that she hadn’t dated much back home. It wasn’t that she was a prude, like all her friends had thought, Emma had never felt a connection with anyone, except Luke. She supposed that guys hadn’t been lining up around the block for her, but there had been some interested in her over the years; it was always overshadowed by the kind of worship that her friends, like Becca, with their skyscraper legs and sexy attitudes seemed to get. Emma had never been bitter about it, until now.
She had been going to tell Becca the truth about Jules, but now Emma relished the thought of seeing her face when Becca saw just how out of her league Emma’s new boyfriend was.
“Well there is a new guy.” Emma watched Becca’s face contort with horror before disbelief took hold. “Becca he’s just great!”
Emma gushed with a big fake smile on her face. “I never told you about him before because I thought I was never going to see him again, and it just hurts too much to think about it, but as soon as I found out that Luke was a complete scumbag, I knew that Jules and I should be together.”
“Jules?” Becca’s face brightened, but still looked suspicious. “Don’t get me wrong, sweetie, it’s not that I’m not happy for you, but I care about you. Don’t you think you should come home and forgive poor Luke, and forget about this …ahem…new guy?”
Emma’s eyes narrowed. Becca didn’t believe her. She loved her friend, but Emma swore that sometimes she just wanted to strangled some sense into her.
A knock sounded on the door and Emma jumped as she heard Jules’ voice call her name. She smiled at Becca. “That’s him right now.”
Becca returned the grin. “I can’t wait to meet him.”
Chapter 16
Suspicion wafted over Jules when he saw Emma staring at him, and her pleased smile, not to mention that as she did so, she looked like a warrior, sex, angel goddess.
“What’s wrong?” Jules asked.
Emma’s smile just broadened and Jules noticed for the first time the sarcasm in it.
“Julian! I’ve missed you.”
“Have you?” he asked with a smirk.
Emma did some, not too subtle, head jerking towards something in her room and he guessed that there was someone there that needed lying to. Man, they were going to have to work on her acting.
That’s okay, a voice in the back of his head said, that’s just another chance to spend time with her.
“Someone here?” he mouthed.
She nodded her head and stuck out her hand.
Jules smiled down at it. Emma huffed and whispered, Take my hand, jerk-face.”
He chuckled to himself and wound his hand with hers, noticing how soft and warm it was, Jules had the sudden impulse to never let go of it.
“Becca!” Emma called out, “there’s someone I want you to meet.”
Becca? Not Luke? And why was she so keen all of a sudden to introduce him?
His questions remained unanswered as a tall girl with brown curls the draped her face bounced around the corner. At first Jules thought this new arrival was Emma’s sister, but while this girl was no doubt pretty, she had none of that casual grace and slap in the face gorgeousness which Emma possessed.
The girl, Becca he presumed, had seen something that shocked her. While she had skipped into the room with a little smile, Jules saw the smile drop from her face as she froze on the spot. She stared at him before jerking her head towards Emma, then turned back to Jules. Becca screamed.
Julian pulled Emma behind him. Oh, God, his fans had started getting keys to his hotel now?
Emma pushed herself back in front of him and walked closer to the girl, who now hyperventilated, which was only slightly better than screaming. “Becca,” she said with a smile, “I’d like you to meet Julian. Julian, my friend from back home, Becca.”
Julian raised an eyebrow but caught on quick. He reached out his hand, which she took with a trembling one. “Nice to meet you.”
“Wow, it’s so—so—I mean—wow, Emma, you didn’t tell me it was Julian Brex!”
Emma’s smile broadened and Jules wondered whether they really were friends. “I told you I was with someone. I didn’t think it mattered who he was.”
Jules stared at her; even if she was being sarcastic, that was still a pleasant thing for him to hear. He forgot about Becca and moved behind Emma, wrapping his arm around her waist and bringing her up against his chest.
“Have you told her, yet, love?” he whispered in her ear.
“Told her what?” Emma asked, her breathing a little faster.
Jules grazed his lips along her jaw and down the side of her throat. “That we’re engaged.”
“What?! Engaged?!” Becca jumped in.
Emma recovered and looked at her friend. “That’s right. When things ended with Luke I realized that this is where I wanted to be and we didn’t want to waste any time.”
Becca looked dazed, but she didn’t say anything for several minutes and Jules just pressed himself closer to Emma.
“That’s...um...great. Congrats, babe, I’m so happy for you!” Her smile was so bright, Jules almost believed she was sincere.
“So, Julian,” Becca said turning to him with a different kind of smile, “Did you and Emma have any plans for tonight? Cause I think you and I should have dinner. I’ve got to get to know the man my best friend is marrying.”
Jules felt Emma try to launch herself from his arms, so he quickly pulled her back, and said, “Actually, Emma and I are going to a little gathering tonight.”
Emma turned to face him. “We are?” she asked, carefully.
“Yep.”
“Oooo, what is it?” Becca chimed in. “Maybe I could come too.”
“It’s the MTV music awards and, no, you can’t come.” He looked back down at Emma and said, “Sorry. I can only take one date.”
Emma scowled at him, pretty much forgetting that Becca was there. “You might have given me some more notice? It’s four o’clock and I don’t have anything to wear.”
“Sorted.” Jules said with a smile and Emma noticed for the first time the black garment bag that was flung over one of his shoulders. “And your hair and makeup will be up in an hour.”
With another smile, that Jules knew would get her heart pumping, he nodded at Becca and left. He couldn’t
wait to see how Emma looked that night, almost as much as he couldn’t wait to see how she punished him for springing this on her.
What could he say? Her punishment was the sweetest kind.
Chapter 17
An hour after Becca had left, Emma perched on the edge of her bed, her mind blown.
Honestly, she expected little bits of brain to be on the walls behind her.
Yes, Jules had sprung this on her, and, yes, she intended to castrate him when it was all over—I mean, even a girl like Emma, who preferred jeans over skirts and wore minimal makeup, still needed some time to get ready for an awards show; yet, even though he had done yet another spontaneous thing, and something that could blow apart their little ruse, right now, he was her favorite person.
He had gotten her a dress, but not just any dress, possibly the most beautiful, yet trendy, and amazing dress she had even set eyes on. The dress was a deep plum purple, with a thick, jeweled top half, which managed to make her lack of cleavage look full and enticing, but not trashy. To say that the fabric was soft was an understatement; when Emma put it on, she felt like someone had enveloped her in silk-laden, velvet robe that caressed and hugged her skin---not a stifling choke, but a protective embrace. The gown split apart from the slit that ran up the side of her left leg, allowing it to drag slightly, making her appear more like royalty than just a rock star’s date. Emma stared at herself in the floor length mirror, not believing that Julian knew her well enough to choose the dress she dreamed of wearing.
The people who came and did her hair and makeup were so fast and silent, Emma had almost forgotten they had come at all, but the evidence that they had existed, and not some daytime hallucination of hers, was evident in her face: her skin looked flawless with a luminescent glow, the eyes big, smoky, and seductive, while the lips had been shaded a pale pink. Her hair, which was usually wore shoulder length and loose, had been tousled and thrown up into a half up, half down contraption that added a glossy, and elegant, touch.
Looking at herself in the mirror now, Emma had to admit that she looked beautiful; there was a new, strange fluttering in her pulse, and tightening in her stomach, which she couldn’t make sense of. A second later a loud, cocky knock rattled the door and Emma reminded herself to take a slow, deep breath before answering taking care not to trip in the heels as she was unused to wearing them.
When the door swung open, Emma’s breath caught in her throat. If the sight of Julian in jeans was heartbreaking, then Julian in a tuxedo was enough to make Emma feel as though she had ripped her own heart out of her chest and handed it to him. He was too sexy to handle. Far too good-looking for her newfound glamor to even stand a chance against. She released the breath that had lodged in her lungs, and realized that he wasn’t moving either.
Jules hadn’t gasped, or expressed how beautiful she looked, and how all he wanted to do was pull her back inside that hotel room and stare at her all night, instead of going to the awards. No, he had just stopped, and stared.
Emma felt a moment of insecurity wash over her as she wondered whether she was meant to look differently, before remembering why she was there and who he was. She didn’t need to impress him.
“What?” she asked with a scowl.
“Nothing.” He motioned her out the door.
Emma stormed out, upset that he didn’t seem to think she looked nice.
“Are you okay?” he asked in the elevator.
“Fine,” she snapped, though it was a lie.
She could almost feel his absurd heat, even though they were as far apart as the small elevator would allow, and she smelled him again, that tantalizing, beckoning cologne that made her want to throw herself at him. Emma pressed herself into the cool, wooden wall and as far away from that heat and smell as she could. Jules had other ideas. In one quick stride he crossed the space and pulled Emma to his side.
“Hey-” she protested.
Jules interrupted her. “Shh. The show, remember?”
Emma frowned. This show was getting harder and harder to act. Emma swore that when they entered the lobby, every single head turned their way, including Luke, who sat, stony faced, at the bar with a smiling Becca by his side. They laughed when Emma and Julian came in sight before clamming up. Awed, Becca smiled, whether at Emma’s dress, or Julian’s butt, Emma couldn’t tell; but Luke only had eyes for her. He looked her up and down; desire filled his greedy eyes.
Well – at least someone thought she looked good.
Emma scowled up at Julian whose smile was more strained than usual, but his hand was just as warm. Geez, she wondered, what was wrong with him? Emma thought he did this kind of thing every other day. A new event, a new dress, a new girl.
Just as she saw Luke rise from his chair, Julian shot him a deadly glare and propelled Emma towards the exit, which she noticed was lined with security this time, keeping the massive crowd at bay. Emma sighed in relief; she didn’t know how capable she would be of beating off crazy groupies in a dress and stilettos.
Julian didn’t even glance at them; he didn’t wave, smile, or sign autographs like he did every other time. He put a firm hand on the small of Emma’s back and half carried her into the waiting Bentley.
Once inside, and speeding away, Emma shuffled as far from him as possible and looked out the window. Great! Now he barely spoke to her and manhandled her. Julian’s deep sigh behind her caught her attention..
“You look beautiful Emma,” he said.
Emma spun around to glare at him, but the hunger in his gray, eyes which shone as they took in every detail on her face, stopped her. The silence stretched on for two minutes before Julian cried, “Dammit!” and threw an arm around Emma’s waist, pulling her to his side.
After her pulse recovered, Emma turned to him with a raised eyebrow.
“Explain?” she said.
Julian remained quiet for a moment. “I want—just stay close to me tonight, okay?”
Emma wanted to say no, that he could stay close to himself but chose not to. Instead, she just looked away from those bright eyes and murmured, “Okay.”
Chapter 18
If Emma hadn’t already known that Jules was bad for her, she would have been convinced as soon as she stepped out of their car. Julian got out first and smiled at something a reporter had said. Emma could guess what it was as the plush interior of the Bentley muffled the man’s statement. She knew it would be a big crowd; she knew to expect screaming girls and paparazzi, but when Jules reached back a moment later for her hand, Emma watched as his face caught the last rays of the afternoon sun, and wished to dive headlong inside the car.
The red carpet bore more of a resemblance to blood—like the blood all these girls barely contained by a thin side rope imagined spilling from her in torrents—than one of luxury. Panic filled her.
Jules looked sideways at his date. It wasn’t the first time he’d brought a date to one of these things, but they were always rehearsed actresses and models used to this sort of treatment and got a kick out of them. One look at Emma’s horrified face made him realize that she was far from amused, and more terrified for her own life. If she didn’t look so comical, her eyes wide like dinner plates, her lips parted in a perfect O, then Julian might have been concerned for her, but he only chuckled and reached out to wind her hand into his, the tension from earlier forgotten.
Emma exhaled as she looked up at Julian. It was strange how his touch had that kind of effect on her, that it instantly calmed her even when she was on the verge of an anxiety attack. Emma reminded herself that it was probably only because her body registered that she now had an old veteran at her side who would be able to guide her through this no problem. At least, she thought there was no problem, as she looked at his god-like face, shining as he chuckled; he seemed happier now. Emma still did not understand what had happened in the limo.
Suddenly, they were propelled forward. Emma was pulled along, securely, at Julian’s side as they posed for what seemed to be an endless slew of
photos. At one point when Jules leant down to whisper in her ear to smile, the cameras went haywire and the shrieks from the crowd reached a crescendo.
Jules greeted some of the fans, skilfully keeping them from stroking his face and ripping off his clothes like they tried to do time and time again. Emma had to be patient in these moments, and remind herself to not jump forwards and push them all away like she wanted to. Once again, she remembered that she couldn’t blame them for their obsession with Julian, especially when he wore his tux and was more than handsome.
By the time they made it inside, Emma’s head spun and she had melded herself to the strength of Julian’s side. In front of her, was a sight that took her breath away, but didn’t help her anxiety. The old theater was more grand and decorative than anything Emma had seen in her life—and she stayed at the Ritz! She admired the intricate roof lining, the hardwood floors that had seen however many centuries of history, and she stared with disbelief at the huge plasma TVs and laser lights, which had been attached to the walls for the awards ceremony.
The people inside were just as glamorous and twice as intimidating. Celebrities flittered by her like people pushing past each other in a mall at Christmastime; she caught a glimpse of Zac Efron smiling at photographers, his girlfriend standing behind him. Emma saw Rachael from Friends walk over and hug the guy who played King Arthur, and saw the Jonas Brothers playing imaginary air-guitars, looking like douche bags. She never cared for them.
They all stopped to talk to Julian. Timberland came up, gave him a quick slap on the back and whispered something in his ear, which made him smile before disappearing into the crowd with his entourage. Emma Watson bounced up and kissed him on both cheeks before looking suspiciously at Emma. This seemed to happen each time someone greeted them: the celebrities walked up, smiled at Julian like a long lost brother (or lover in the case of the girls) and glowered at Emma like she had snuck in a back door.