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Emmett huffed as he ran for the bus, wishing he’d thought to take his jacket off. He’d already worked up a light sweat under the weight of the three or four bags he held in his hands, but there was a definite sheen on his forehead by the time he took his seat.
Elle Woods really was a force of nature: five years of wearing mostly thrifted clothes, and now here he was, heading home with a full suit, some shirts, two new ties and a pair of shoes. She’d been in her element all afternoon, knowledgeable and confident and happy – practically radiating contentment as she handed him item after item to try. If he’d known how much joy it would bring her, he would have submitted to a makeover far sooner, just to see the way she lit up as he stepped out of the dressing room; it was the perfect cure for the sting of Callahan’s reprimand earlier that day.
And of course, there was something intoxicating about having her full attention on him, without the distraction of essays or textbooks or a deadline; something that rendered him tongue-tied and clumsy. Yes, intoxicating was the perfect word for it: under the influence of Elle Woods he did stupid, foolish things, things that he would never normally do, like accept an extravagant gift from the girl he may or may not be in love with, or try to kiss her out of the blue.
Just thinking about it, the dumb way he’d stared at her mouth, how he’d automatically tilted his head as she went to hug him…was it possible to die of embarrassment? Because if so, he was about to expire right here on this bus. His only hope was that she hadn’t noticed it at all. The alternative, that she had realised what he was thinking and deliberately avoided the kiss, was too awful to contemplate.
Don’t think about it, he told himself desperately, just…don’t think about it. You’re only going to drive yourself crazy if you do…
But this humiliating experience had taught him one valuable thing at least, and it was this: that after months of pining, he had finally reached a breaking point. This wasn’t a harmless crush anymore – he needed to tell her the truth. Even if all that came of it was Elle gently letting him down, at least it would put an end to the agonising hope, the mad fantasy that one day she might look at him and realise that he was what she wanted.
…I tried to kiss her…
Heedless of the people around him, he buried his red face in his hands and groaned.
Not thinking about it. I am. Not thinking about it.
***
Emmett Forrest tried to kiss me.
The thought had been fluttering around in Elle's brain like a half-drunk starling all afternoon, distracting her as she tried to focus on her prep for her first day in court, as she showered, as she laid out her clothes for the next morning. Looking at her navy-blue suit on the back of her door, all she could think of was Emmett stepping out of the department store dressing room and standing shoulder to shoulder with her in the mirror. She’d loved seeing his emotions play across his face: caution, hesitant surprise, dawning pleasure.
She really had to congratulate herself on that suit. It actually fit him properly, unlike most of his own clothes, and he looked so handsome in it, it almost took her by surprise. More than that though, he looked confident. It really was as though all her favourite things about him – his sharp wit, his sense of humour, his incredible determination – had been externalised so everyone could see at a glance what an amazing guy he was.
She wasn’t the only one to notice the change: while Elle went to look at more ties, one of the sales assistants, who hadn’t looked twice at him in his brown corduroy jacket, slipped forward with an air of sweet solicitude to offer her opinion. She laid her hand on his forearm as she talked, letting it linger, apparently oblivious to the way he leaned away from her slightly, polite and awkward at the same time.
Glancing over, Elle had felt a sudden sharp stab of some unpleasant emotion, and before she knew it she was at Emmett’s side.
“Thanks, I think we’re good for now,” she said, giving the salesgirl a bright, sunny smile. The woman retreated reluctantly and Elle stepped into her place. She could feel Emmett’s eyes on her face and was surprised to find herself blushing. Avoiding his gaze, she fussed with the knot of his tie, smoothed down his collar and wondered why her heart was suddenly hammering.
“You’re feisty today.” It sounded like he was trying to stifle a laugh.
“Just looking out for you, Forrest.”
“Well, thank you.”
Elle smiled, pretending not to hear the short shallow breath he took – really, it was almost a gasp – as her hands stole downwards between them to button his suit jacket, “You’re welcome. Now,” she took the two ties she’d chosen, one in simple rose pink, the other a burgundy paisley, off of her shoulder and held them out for him to see, “I want you to have another tie. Which of these do you like better?”
He considered them and she waited, taking an inordinate amount of pleasure in studying his face while he was distracted. Huh. How had she never noticed how pretty his eyes were before? Such a lovely shade of blue...
“I like the pink one.”
She looked down at it, her mouth dropping open, “You’re just saying that.”
“No, I actually like it,” he said, grinning, “and if you can’t wear pink to court, I’ll wear it for you.”
“…You-”
“Excuse me, miss, was there anything else you wanted?”
In the face of the large group of approaching sales assistants, Emmett promptly disappeared back into the stall to change, leaving Elle in front of the mirror feeling slightly dazed.
‘I’ll wear pink for you’?
And then, as they were leaving…
He did, she thought, her stomach flipping over as she got into bed, he tried to kiss me.
She’d been going for a hug, hadn’t noticed until it was too late how he was tilting his head, how his eyes were focused on her mouth. Before she could react properly, her arms were around his neck and her cheek was pressed against his while her bewildered brain tried to make sense of what had just happened.
She’d been so busy trying to find her footing at Harvard – and, if she was honest, trying to impress Warner – that she’d barely had time to notice that Emmett might have a thing for her. But now, looking back, she wondered how the hell she could have missed it: it wasn’t as though the poor boy was particularly subtle.
It was there in the way he stood chatting with her at the start of Callahan’s classes, having to be called a couple of times by the professor before he seemed to remember where he was; the long nights spent helping her prepare for mock trials or surprise tests; in how flustered he got when she casually laid her hand on his forearm or leaned over his shoulder while he sat at her desk. And, frankly, she thought it was fair to say he hadn’t been entirely unaffected by the bunny costume.
Elle stared up at her dark ceiling and thought about kissing Emmett. A quick, sweet press of lips over coffee before class, perhaps, or hot, desperate kisses here on her bed late at night, his hands on her hips, their books and laptops forgotten on the floor. The shiver of excitement that swept over her at that last thought was all the answer she needed to the question of how she felt about him.
What now though?
She’d never fallen in love like this: slowly, sweetly, without even noticing it was happening. She felt like an idiot. How were you supposed to tell your best friend that you’d just realised you loved them when it should have been obvious months ago? All she wanted to do right now was call him, blurt it all out – but no, it was late, and she couldn’t do it over the phone. Perhaps she could get him alone at the courthouse tomorrow…
On her bedside table, her phone lit up silently. Giving up on sleep (on the basis that she was far too happy and excited and confused to even keep her eyes closed long enough to fall asleep right now), she picked it up, her breath stuttering clumsily when she saw Emmett’s name next to the little unopened envelope icon, stark against the blue light of the screen. With her heart in her mouth, she opened the message.
Thanks again for today. Sent my mom a picture of the suit, she loves it.
X
She stared at the little x at the end of the short text until her eyes burned and she had to lower the phone, clutching it to her chest like a heroine in an overly-dramatic period piece. He’d never sent her a kiss before. She wondered how long it had taken him to work up the courage to add it to his message, especially considering she’d unintentionally shut him down earlier.
Struggling to corral her frantic thoughts into some kind of order, she typed out her response, a smile already tugging at her lips as she imagined him reading it.
So do I – you look so good in it! Can’t wait to see you wearing it again soon!
X
Elle set her phone aside and pressed her face into her pillow, still beaming. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.