I cocked my head to the side, and he took a step closer to me.
“I bet you were a cute kid,” I said, trying to defuse some of the very real tension between us.
“I knowyouwere,” he said. “One day, Ansley showed me all the family photo albums.”
I groaned. Those family photo albums had gotten us into enough trouble already this year.
“I used to come up here, and my friends and I would pretend we were pirates on a lost island, defending our buried treasure.”
I finally looked up into his eyes. I’d been trying not to, because I knew what I would see in them. I knew what I would find. But I couldn’t help myself.
“Kyle,” I whispered.
I didn’t know what I even wanted to say. Maybe that I couldn’t do this now. Maybe that I could. Maybe that I had thought about him for years and that I knew it was stupid, but that one night we had spent together had been more than all the nights combined I’d had with anyone else. Or maybe that I didn’t feel what I thought he felt, and I was flattered, but this wasn’t going to happen. I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure. So I didn’t say anything.
We shared a long silence before Kyle filled it for me, saying maybe the same thing I wanted to say. “I swore to myself I wouldn’t do this, Em. I promised. I know it’s bad timing, and you’re vulnerable, but you are all I think about. I live for the next moment when I’m going to be beside you.” He took another step forward and put his hand on my cheek, cautiously.
There was more for him to say, more for me to say. But then, also, there was nothing left to say, not now, not ever, not from that first moment. Instead of responding, I stood up on my tiptoes, wrapped my arms around him, and kissed him long and slow and deep, just like I had that night in LA all those years ago. I pulled away from him, unzipped my dress, and in one fluid motion, the heavy fabric fell to the floor.
I took his hand and led him back inside to those beanbags.
“Em,” he whispered, “are you sure?”
I put my hand on his beautiful cheekbone and said, “Kyle, remember the night we met, when you traced my favorite quote with your finger on my arm?”
He nodded. “Of course.”
“I have thought about this moment pretty much every day since that one.”
He grinned. “That is a lot of thoughts.”
I nodded and pulled him down to the floor with me. As he kissed me, Kyle said, “I love you, Emerson. I’m sorry, but I need you to know that.”
It seemed insane, and I didn’t say it back. But wrapped in his arms in his childhood tree house, I knew that I was falling in love with Kyle, too.
WHEN I WOKE UPa few hours later, it took me a minute to figure out where I was. In a tree house, with Kyle, who loved me, on an island. I panicked. What had I done? I couldn’t stay here. I was repeating the same mistake all over again. Peachtree Bluff was a deep black hole, and no matter how hard I tried to get away, it kept pulling me in. I started filming in two days. I had to be back in LA, not in love in Peachtree Bluff. I thought my heart would break in two, but I scooted out from underneath Kyle’s arm and leg, found my heavy raw-silk dress on the balcony, and, against all odds, found my way back to the site of the wedding with my cell-phone flashlight.
There were two paddleboards with Kyle’s initials on them pulled up on the beach probably ten yards from the tent. I wouldn’t have stranded him there—though I was more convinced than ever after last night that, if need be, that man could swim all the way to shore and barely break a sweat—but there was an extra. I wish I could have seen myself, how ridiculous I looked paddling to shore in a floor-length couture gown. My heart actually physically hurt as I pulled the paddleboard up onto the dock, not from exertion but from the pain of leaving him behind.
But I wouldn’t go through what I had gone through with Mark again. I refused to do it. My bags were already packed, so I scrawled a quick note to Mom, turned off my cell phone, and got into my car. I needed to cut all ties with this place and get home. I needed to get back to LA before I made another mistake.
SIX WEEKS OF FILMING, and I was beginning tofeellike Sissy. I had put on the tiniest bit of weight, and my boobs were even a little bigger, like I was slowly becoming her. Usually, weight gain would have been a bad thing, but with this role, it was actually a bonus. I knew that this was by far the most important role I had ever played, that big-screen or miniseries or whatever it was didn’t matter. I had been too wrapped up in the appearance of it, of what it sounded like to say it, of what people would think. This was a story that would resonate with audiences, would stand the test of time.
Being back in LA had been the best medicine. It was like the time I’d spent in Peachtree Bluff was a hazy apparition, and I had, for all intents and purposes, morphed into the moody teenager who had lived there so many years ago. The space had given me the clarity to see that what Mark and I had was better left in the past and that my mother deserved a blissful future. Jack would always be a part of our lives now, moving forward—a happy part.
I unfortunately hadn’t been feeling as well now that I was back in LA and back to long hours and late nights. But I had IVs scheduled for the next day, and I knew they would perk me right up.
What it all boiled down to was that Caroline had been right: I needed to get back to acting. I needed a place to put all my pent-up energy.
Vivi had started school again, so Caroline was back in New York spending way too much time curating Sloane Emerson. But, as we had promised, Caroline was bringing Vivi to the set today for her birthday gift. The star of the show, Hazel Bennett, was Vivi’s age, and I really thought they’d hit it off. Plus, Vivi was going to get to play one of the little girls in Francie Nolan’s class. She had only one line, but I knew she would be so excited.
Vivi practically floated onto the set, and Caroline looked as happy as I’d seen her in a long time. I gave Vivi, who was only a few inches shorter than I was now, a big hug and kiss and said, “Go, go! Hair and makeup need you now.”
She scurried off, and I squeezed my sister. I pulled back from her. “What have you had done? You look radiant.”
“I haven’t had anything done,” she said. “I’m just happy.”
I put my hand over my mouth in mock shock. “Well, that’s news.”
