Fever Dream (Emerald Lake, #1)(84)
I’m on the verge of telling her that she’s only here because Richard wants her to be.
But like I thought him into existence, Richard storms into the sand ring, his dress shoes slipping as he struggles to gain purchase. I blink, startled by his presence. I was so in the zone with my ride that it’s as though I forgot about him and the cameras entirely. Riding bulls is natural for me. So is finding Julia in a crowd. But putting on a show for the cameras is as unnatural as it gets.
“Emmett,” he practically shrieks. “Get back out there and redo this take, right fucking now!”
I glare back at him, offering a simple, flat, “Over my dead body.”
Then I check beyond him, wanting to make sure that Julia hears this part… but she’s gone.
My stomach plummets. I feel fucking sick. I feel out of control and undone. My chest hurts. My head hurts. My stomach hurts. And all I can think about is her.
Where Julia is now and how upset she must be.
I spin on Richard. “New rule, Dick Wad. No physical contact unless both parties are into it. You’re going to stop telling these girls to put their hands in my pockets or kiss me or rub my back. It’s fucking weird. It’s fucking uncomfortable. I fucking hate it. So, stop. Game over.”
Richard steps in close, dropping his voice to a venomous hiss. “This game is only over when I say so. You signed a contract. This is the job, boy. Suck it up. You’ve got beautiful women vying for your attention. All desperate for your dick. And here you are, acting all virtuous and shit. Pull it together. Go cry somewhere else. I chose you for a reason. And it wasn’t so you could fall in love with the help and turn into a total fucking prude.”
My molars grind. I fucking hate when he calls Julia the help. It makes me want to flatten his stupid, orange-tanned face.
“Redo the take. Now.” He spits the word out hard enough that his saliva hits me in the face. Carl used to get spitting mad, too.
But I’m not a kid anymore. I’m not scared of Richard Wadsworth.
I am scared of losing Julia, though.
Which is why I look down my nose at him and wipe the back of my hand over my mouth, clearing the wetness from my skin.
And then glare back and spear him with a simple, unaffected “No.”
CHAPTER 32
Emmett
I DRIVE.
And I drive.
And I drive.
I take the back roads, the gloomy storm that’s rolled over the mountains matching my mood and only adding to my melancholy. I should be concerned about the show, but I can’t bring myself to be.
Not when my brain is full of Julia. And the sight of that smile vanishing from her face.
She left. I hurt her. And she left.
It doesn’t even matter that it was unintentional. Or that it was all Evelyn. She couldn’t stay to watch, and I’m sick with knowing I put her in that position.
And her phone going straight to voicemail has done nothing to help my nausea.
I drive until I end up at her building. Then I get out of my truck and stand in the pouring rain, staring up at the windows, wondering which unit might be hers.
Is she home? Is she still awake? Would she even want to see me?
My phone buzzes incessantly, and I finally pull it from my pocket. Messages from Richard fill the screen, many of them in all caps. They demand my return. They threaten adjusting the contract.
“Go fuck yourself, Dick Wad,” I mutter. But my voice comes out watery, more forlorn than angry. I suck in a few deep breaths as I pocket the phone again and turn away from Julia’s building. I can’t go see her like this. Sad, desperate, and confused.
So I walk. Rain pelts down in fat drops, soaking me to the bone. I walk.
And I walk.
And I walk.
And I think. Something I often avoid doing too much of, because heavy thinking typically uncovers heavy feelings for me.
I realize I should be concerned about the fall-out from fleeing the rodeo and blowing off filming, but that’s not where my anxiety lies. I can play that off as me having a diva moment. I have a solution for that.
What I don’t have a solution for is Julia. And all these… feelings.
It’s taken me numerous blocks of despondently walking circles through downtown Emerald Lake to realize that what I’m terrified of losing is her.
Something I’ve never felt before. Something I don’t know how to process.
It feels monumental, like I’m staring into the mouth of a shark about to swallow me whole. I take a deep breath, trying to name what I’m feeling.
Resigned. Because what is there to do?
Petrified. Because I realize that everything I thought I knew is about to change.
And certain. Because despite all my wallowing and spiraling, my feet have instinctively led me back here.
To her building.
Because in spite of the way the entire world seems to be burning around us, I refuse to leave her with any doubts about how I feel.
CHAPTER 33
Julia
LIGHTNING FLASHES ACROSS the sky, and rain pummels the floor-to-ceiling windows of my condo. I’ve made myself a cup of coffee and sit curled in a tight ball on my couch. Watching. Thinking.
Okay, more like spiraling.
Seeing Emmett on the bull today stirred so many feelings inside of me. Terror. Pride. Anxiety. Awe. Dread.