Fever Dream (Emerald Lake, #1)(85)

And then the heart-stopping realization that I’ve gone and done what I’ve always sworn I wouldn’t: gotten attached to a fucking cowboy.

Which made watching Evelyn bound toward him like he was hers downright painful.

I fled before they could even get to the on-site elimination ceremony. It was unprofessional of me but… instinctual. I needed to get the fuck out of there.

My obsession with watching everything on set had backfired spectacularly and left me feeling like a green-eyed monster.

Between the emotional connection we’ve forged and the single orgasm he’s given me, I am feeling very, very attached to Emmett. Which is stupid considering I know why he’s on this show. I’ve encouraged him to keep it up. I want that payday for him.

But I also want him for myself. And based on how I felt tonight, wanting that is only going to end up hurting me.

A buzzing sound fills my unit. Someone is calling up.

With a heavy sigh, I pad toward my door and press the button to speak into the intercom. “Hello?”

“Jules. It’s Emmett.”

My heart clenches. He sounds distraught.

“Hey.” I don’t know what else to say to him right now. He hurt me, but he did nothing wrong. Which is a mindfuck to make sense of.

I know they redid the kiss. I know that’s the job. That’s the show. That’s what he—and I—signed up for.

But I couldn’t watch. I slipped out of the arena and drove home to lick my wounds privately. I wanted space. Quiet. Time to pull myself together. Emmett must have needed it, too, because I haven’t heard from him all night.

No call. No text. Just hours alone with a burning sensation in my gut from imagining him and Evelyn together.

“Can I come up?”

“Emmett.” I sigh his name, looking around my unit as butterflies erupt in my chest at the sincerity in his voice. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Please.” My heart squeezes. “I just need to see you.” His rough, confident voice cracks on the word you and tears spring to my eyes.

I always thought caring about someone would feel like constant bliss, but this feels more like perpetual suffering.

I know he is, too, though. And I hate the idea of him suffering alone.

I guess I’d rather we suffer together. Everything always feels better when I’m with him.

“Okay,” I whisper, pressing the button to unlock the front door against my better judgment.

I wait outside my door for him, heart beating faster when I hear the soft ding of the elevator arriving on my floor. But when he turns the corner, it seizes in my chest.

Emmett is soaked from head to toe. His hair drips onto his cheekbones, and his white T-shirt has gone translucent, his jeans heavy and dark.

He looks absolutely stricken.

I lay one hand against my throat and squeeze, trying to press away the lump that’s formed there at the sight of him. “Emmett, where have you been?”

“Walking. Thinking. Hating myself.” His voice sounds dejected, and he can barely meet my eyes as he trudges toward me. “Jules… I just… I needed…” He shrugs, glancing away for a beat as he wipes a palm over his mouth. When his eyes meet mine, my knees go weak. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

My throat feels tight, but I try to soothe him through the choking sensation. “You can always come here. It’s okay. I know you have to play along for the cameras. It was just a kiss, so—”

“A kiss?”

I bite the inside of my cheek and nod once. “With Evelyn?” He studies me with an intensity that’s difficult to endure. I offer him a wobbly smile. “Don’t worry. I didn’t stick around to watch.”

He tips his head back to gaze at the ceiling, exasperation lining every motion as he takes a raspy breath. My gaze catches on a droplet of water. I watch it trail down from a soaked strip of hair, over his square jaw, before tracing the bump of his Adam’s apple down his throat.

I want to lick it.

I close my eyes for a bit, hating my internal monologue.

“You should have stuck around,” he says, drawing my attention back to him. “Because if you had, you’d have seen me tell Richard where to stick it. There was no kiss. Jules, are you kidding me? I’m consumed by you. I can’t even think about anyone else. There was only a blowup on set and me fucking it all up.”

He approaches and stops before me. I stand my ground, blocking the entryway to my condo, still not sure it’s in our best interest for me to let him in. Emotions are running too high. We’re standing far too close to a dangerous precipice.

But when he lifts his tortured baby blues to my face, all my resolve crumbles.

“I don’t know what to do with all these feelings, Jules. You’ve brought a brightness to parts of me that have been forgotten in the dark for years.”

My eyes fill, and I reach for his elbow, giving him a tender squeeze. “Oh, Em.”

“I can’t shake you, Jules. No matter how hard I try. I wake up every morning and promise myself I’m going to stay away. I know I’m no good for you. But this feeling? It’s fucking inescapable.”

He claws at his own chest. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop looking for you. I can’t stop wanting you. Images of you fill my brain every second of every day. You’re everywhere. Like a song stuck in my head, even though I don’t want you there. I feel like I’m living in a fever dream that I can’t fucking escape.”