“I think I’ve fucked myself over here,” he whispers into my hair after he’s pulled me back up to standing and he’s holding me tightly to his chest.
“Yeah?” I whisper back.
“Mmm. There’s not a chance in hell I won’t get a boner every single time I see those fucking red bottoms now.” I turn my head into his chest and place a kiss there, over the spot where I know my tattoo is hiding, unable to keep from smiling wide.
“This red carpet might get awkward, baby. If you walk in front of me and I get a flash of those things, all I’m gonna see is you on your knees, looking absolutely perfect for me. And this could get real uncomfortable for everyone who isn’t us.”
Holding him even tighter, I laugh into his chest as he runs a hand down the back of my head, fingers combing through my hair lovingly. I pull back to give him a kiss and look him in the eyes, my own smirk evident, before responding, “I guess that’s their problem, then.”
His head falls back as he laughs, and his hands continue to hold me tight the whole time. When he’s collected himself and meets my gaze again, his eyes are shining and he tells me softly, sincerely, “God, you’re fucking perfect.”The feeling is mutual, kid.
FORTY-TWO
GEMMA
“We were robbed.”
“You were not robbed, Aaron, it just didn’t win the award.”
“We. Were. Robbed.”
I sigh heavily, not up for this argument right now. There’s no changing his mind.
He persists, not getting over this that easily. “I’m telling you, Gem. That award wasstolen. You have cinematicperfection—a literal masterpiece—and then it just, what? Doesn’t win a single fucking major award? It’s bullshit. That’s how you know this shit is rigged.”
I turn to face him in the back of the sprinter van, smoothing out the short hem of my dress over the tops of my thighs, which catches his eyes for a second, derailing his rant for a single moment.
“For the last time,” I tell him, sighing. “We’re the Millersis not the greatest movie ever made.”
He gasps at me, drawing his neck back in abject horror. “You take that back,” he tells me.
I shake my head at what an idiot he is.
“You have Rachel Greene as a stripper, playing the fake wife of Ted fucking Lasso as a drug runner.Icons. Silver screenlegends on their own. And then you add in a punk ass little chick as his fake daughter, and the nerdiest kid imaginable as his fake son. Find me one fault with that movie. I dare you,” he challenges me, his voice indignant.
“You’re ridiculous,” I tell him, leaning him to peck him on the lips. I know he’s trying not to focus too much on hisownaward nomination, or get his hopes up for winning it. He’s up against some major competition, including one of the actors who inspired him to get into the business in the first place. I know he doesn’t really think he has a chance of winning, he’s on a high just from being nominated, but I’m feeling pretty confident about tonight. Just not going to tell him that and get his hopes up. I’ll be here, by his side, supporting him throughout it whichever way it goes, and beyond.
He keeps one of his hands on my bare thigh, skimming the skin softly with his thumb as we approach the venue. We’re in LA for the week, where he hasn’t had to come out to all that much in the last couple of years with all the production happening in Atlanta, but this trip was definitely worth it.
He gives me one final kiss on the cheek when the van pulls to a stop, and asks me, “Ready?”
I give him a small smile and nod, trying not to let my nerves show. I’ve never done a red carpet, and I don’t think I was particularly made for the limelight. But Idofirmly believe that I was made for this man by my side, and he for me, so I’ll gladly walk it with him.
When the door opens, he gets out first, then offers me his hand. I climb out with his assistance—still getting used to these heels, but #worthit—and he places his hand on my low back (okay, a little lower than that if we’re being honest), and helps me lead the way down the red carpet. He pauses us every so often, facing several directions each time so the cameras can get the pics they came for. It’s not as bad as I was afraid of, mostlybecause I have the warmth of the man next to me to bask in as he positivelyglowsas he stares down at me. He looks so fine in that dark gray suit with the black shirt underneath, I wasn’t sure I could keep my hands off him until after this thing is over, but I’m proud to say I made it the entire length of the press alley without groping him in front of the cameras.
At the end of the red carpet, we’re greeted by his publicist (she is enthused over his “performance for the press”—her words, not mine) and an usher, and are escorted to our seats. We’re a lot closer to the front than he’s sat in previous years, and I’m trying not to read into it, but I can’t help but think that’s a real good sign.
The host is funny all night, but when he makes a totally politically incorrect joke about the star ofMidnight Empire, it makes Aaron laugh harder than most of the audience, because it was a little too true. He clutches my hand a bit harder in some moments than others, and I know that’s when his nerves are getting to him.
When I asked him on the way here if he had a speech prepared, he shook his head. “I don’t want to jinx it,” he said. “There’s like a two percent chance I’ll win, but if I prep a speech, it’ll be a negative two percent chance, I can feel it.” He said if he really won, he’d think on his feet, speak from the heart. If he hadn’t been so nervous about tonight, I would’ve quipped back there’s a reason we practice his lines from a script, an ad libber he is not. But I’m here to keep him centered tonight, no matter how this plays out, so I just gave him a peck and a whispered promise of what we’ll do later to celebrate his first nomination.
About an hour and a half into the evening, his category, Best Supporting Actor in a TV series, is up. There’s a camerawoman in the aisle next to us, focusing on him, ready for his reaction, either way. I squeeze his hand in unity, trying to tell him with my touch that this is his first nomination of many. Winningyour first nomination is rare, but it’snotrare to keep getting nominated after that first one. And I’ll be by his side to celebrate his accomplishments, however this goes.
He leans over and kisses my temple right before the announcers take the stage and read out the nominees. The camera makes a soft whirring noise as it zooms in on his face, and he nods humbly when his face comes on the giant screen as his nomination is read out.
And then the envelope is opened, and they announce the winner.
The love of my life.
