Author's Note:
This is my first FanFiction - the entirety of it was written in the span of a week and a half. I do not own Legally Blonde/the musical/these characters and this wasn't written for profit.
Legally Blonde the Musical was on Broadway over 16 years ago. When I saw it, I was barely out of high school and didn't think about it too much other than how great and catchy the music was. I recently re-watched the brilliant MTV pro-shot with my boyfriend, and, as an adult, really appreciate how well the romance was developed. Consider this my take on the popular "what happens after the trial" prompt.
I take some minor liberties with the timeline. As far as I can tell, almost the entirety of Act 2 seems to take place over 3-4 days. This doesn't make Emmett's romantic evolution/revelations as significant as they should feel. To give some slightly more realistic breathing room, I added a week between "Take it Like a Man" and "There! Right There!"
Disclaimer: This story does contain a scene with graphic sexual content.
Enjoy and review! :)
How exactly I agreed to sleep over in Elle's dorm comes down to one concentrated truth: I'm a weak son of a bitch.
Emmett walked into her Hello Kitty-esque, bubble gum scented room and even though he had been here at least a hundred times before, this time felt especially charged. After all, they were both on high from Elle's triumph at the Wyndham trial this very afternoon. And just yesterday he thought it was possible he may never see her again.
She was going to stay now, right?
The alternative was a devastating thought.
They hadn't exactly spoken at length since then. The amount of times he played back the conversation in his head-
"I want you to stay."
Emmett looked up, quizzically. Wasn't that what he-
"Stay over!" Elle motioned for his jacket, "It's been a long…I dunno, week? Month? Semester? Life??? I figured we could order Chinese food and just lax out?"
Emmett chuckled, "How could I turn down the Intern of the Year?"
It came out so easily, but really his heart was in serious danger.
He shrugged off the outer layer and shakily passed it to Elle - positive she would perceive his nervous energy, but intensely hopeful he played it off cool in enough. As she opened the wardrobe he couldn't help but notice she was wearing…practically nothing except for a sweatshirt and shorts. His sweatshirt, actually. The one he gave her so many months ago when she was wearing that bunny suit. The night that changed everything. She never gave it back. It looked good on her - too good. He turned away. Don't ogle her, idiot.
She seemed so…unfazed by the recent events. Was it that simple? Could they go back to the way things were? Is that what she wanted?
But had she ever worn his sweatshirt before? That was an image now burned into his brain. How many more nights could he lie awake with a raging hard-on? What's one more fucking fantasy thrown into the pile of dirty thoughts he had about this incredible woman?
It was rather late, but true they hadn't eaten. Honestly, he was starving. Things after the trial seemed like such a blur. Congratulations from everyone - everyone was there for Elle. From Delta Nu, to Paulette, heck, even her parents showed up from Malibu. It looked like she and Vivienne were finally getting along too. His heart swelled with such pride. She did this. She made everyone around her fall in love with her. For her mind. Her compassion. Her dedication. She will be an outstanding lawyer. I can't wait to see it.
The only thing that gave him pause was Warner. Emmett saw how he clearly wanted to speak to Elle after her victory and encouraged her to do so. She was over him, right? It was a nagging concern that made him feel downright vile. How could I not want her to end up with the guy she's been pining for all year? Am I just that scummy?
Emmett decided not to stick around after she met with Warner. After all, she had so many people to share this success with. Which is why, half-way on his ride home, he was shocked when his phone rang and it was her.
"Elle?" He may have sounded a bit too eager.
"Hey, Butthead! Way to leave me high and dry! You couldn't wait for me?"
"But you - don't you - aren't you - going out with your parents? The girls?" He was doing that nervous rambling thing again, he knew it.
"I already have plans." She sounded so confident. Good. This was good.
He smiled, "Of course you do, Little Miss Popular."
"…the plans are with you. Duh."
Oh.
Oh.
He must have looked positively sheepish and was beyond glad that she couldn't see his face right now. "And what plans are those?"
"Meet at my place?"
"Right now?" I mean, I'm still in my suit and-
"Nah, go ahead and get comfortable at home if you want! Text me when you're on your way. No rush, really."
"Sure. See you soon." He was certain he wore an absolutely goofy smile.
"Bye!"
It always felt so natural with Elle. So effortless. But here he was finally alone with her - in the same room, breathing the same air - and he felt as if he was shutting down, not sure how to proceed.
But he was the one here, right? Not Warner. Just him.
He couldn't deny, it felt special. Being invited here. This place that felt so painfully Elle. From the giant teddy bear, to the silk curtains to the multiple cans of Red Bull stacked behind her desk…
"Emmett?"
Oh shit, how long was his mind wandering? He stiffened, nodding, hands in his sweatpants pockets, "Hi." Smooth.
Elle cocked an eyebrow, "…Hi?" She narrowed her eyes, "Why are you being weird?"
He blanched, "I'm not being weird."
"You are being very weird."
"Maybe I'm just hungry." I am absolutely being very weird.
"…Okay, then. Do you want the usual?"
"Yeah, but Elle, dinner's on me," he assured.
"Don't be silly, I invited you here."
"And I want to celebrate you."
"With the finest take-out in town? You really shouldn't have," she bantered.
"Ha. Ha. Very funny," he said, amusement lacing his tone.
It really was so easy. Being with her. When he wasn't stumbling over his words, that is. And that's been happening a lot lately.
He knew she was about to fight him on this. He did lose his job today. Voluntarily, but unemployed nonetheless. He jumped right to it.
"Please don't worry about me. I've got savings, Elle."
Her face faltered at bit, clearly at an impasse of what to say.
"And that's the last I want to hear of it tonight, really," Emmett chided, "I'm here for you."
She looked simply at-odds, as if fighting an inward battle with herself. Too cute.
"And hey, I know not everyone can afford the finest Chinese take-out in Harvard Square, but let me tell you - it's your lucky day."
She laughed.
Maybe he had a real shot.
It was a miracle he was able to keep up with pleasant conversation in a relatively normal way, considering he thought any second his heart would run away with him.
He wanted to tell her last night, really. But then everything came crashing down in a big way. It felt so long ago now.
"Thank you for standing up for me today, by the way," Elle said earnestly, slurping the last of her Lo Mein.
How was it possible that this was the first time the trial was brought up tonight? They seemed to talk about anything else. Odd. Were they both somehow unintentionally avoiding it until now?
"It was my pleasure. I'm happy I could be there for you."
"Me too."
A lull overtook them.
Oh shit this was it. His opening. It was now or never.
Emmett coughed into his fist, mustering up some courage, "Elle, these past few months have been the best. I'm so, so proud of you and what you've accomplished. You're going to be a magnificent lawyer."
"I couldn't have done it without you, Em."
Oh yes, this was 110% it.
"It makes me really happy to hear that."
She was absolutely beaming, "I really am so lucky. To have you as a friend."
Tohaveyouasafriend. Tohaveyouasafriend. Tohaveyouasafriend. To. Have. You. As. A. Friend. Friend. Friend.
It echoed around him.
He actually thought he felt his pulse completely stop.
"You're my best friend, Em. We make the greatest partners!" She looked so fucking radiant and - Fuck, I'm an asshole.
Of course.
What did I think this was?
I'm her best friend. She wanted to celebrate today's victory with her best friend. She told me to dress casual. We got fucking Chinese take-out for Christ's sake. This isn't romantic. In what world did I think my feelings could be reciprocated?
Emmett was relieved he didn't embarrass himself by using any terminology this evening related to "like" or "date" or even more acutely, "love".
He must have looked some sort of way. Lost, maybe? Devastated, perhaps? Because she was staring at him all wrong.
"I'm…your best friend too, right?"
"The very best," he choked. It sounded hollow even to his ears.
Well, now that everything had gone off the rails he felt it was time for a subtle exit.
"Well," he lightly punched her in the arm, "bestie, it's been a real slice." And he stood from the couch with his container of half-eaten food and started wrapping it up, his back to her.
That was subtle, right?
"What?"
"It's late, Elle. And it's been a long day. I think I should go home." It felt like he was being operated by one little tiny being in his brain, frantically trying to control his entire body but only able to do basic functions. Polite, rational thinking was not one of them.
"Why?"
Because every minute I'm with you makes me deliriously happy yet overwhelmingly sad at the same time and I'm not sure how much my heart can take before it breaks.
"I didn't even bring a toothbrush," the opposition was weak at best.
Elle rose from her seat in protest, "Emmett? Please don't go."
"You have class tomorrow."
"Tomorrow is Saturday."
He stopped for a moment, "So it is. And," he tried for a bit of playfulness, "so many early Saturday morning things to do."
Even his humor sounded laced with ice. He needed to get out of here. Desperately. And go home. And cry. No, no, he would probably start doing that on the way. Try to cross that off the to-do list as early as possible.
"I thought you were sleeping over?"
Oh, there was no way in the hell he was going to let that happen.
Emmett stared up at the ceiling of Elle's dorm, cocooned in a hot pink sleeping bag, trying to figure out what he did so wrong in life.
Shit, why can I never say no to her?
It only took so much as one trembling pout to get him to backpedal. As badly as he wanted to literally book a plane ticket and fly across the world in that moment, Elle always had a firm hold on his senses. I'm a fucking masochist.
"Hey, you know what, I think I'm just really tired," he had said. It wasn't a lie. He couldn't remember the last time he had an entire nights sleep.
"You…want to go to bed? Already?"
"Yup. I am beat." - up. Completely beat-up from the inside out. Internally sobbing, really.
"I guess it is late."
"Very late."
"And so many…early Saturday morning things to do."
Emmet loved a good callback, but this felt pointed. "Look, I get a lot done on Saturdays."
"I see."
He was having difficulty reading her in this moment. The tension in the room was thick. Did he even want to cut it? Wouldn't it be easier to just avoid it and try to get through this fucking night? He agreed with the latter.
He watched her reach for the sleeping bag in the closet and unravel it from its encasement. Thank god he came over in sweatpants and a loose shirt so they didn't have to have an awkward conversation about sleeping attire. Comfy clothes for the win.
"Here," she said handing him a toothbrush, "I have spares. It doesn't have my cooties on it."
As disgusting as it sounded to share a toothbrush with someone, he absolutely wouldn't have minded her cooties on literally anything of his at all.
"Good to know. Thanks."
He retreated to the bathroom, his first moment of solitary confinement since he thought he might vomit with disgust for himself. Emmett stared into the mirror.
Ratty Corduroy.
He never let it bother him before. But in this moment he desperately wished he were something else. More suave? Charming? Honest? Where did all his confidence go? He wanted Elle to be happy, didn't he? Emmett could pretend everything was perfectly normal. Lord knew he'd been doing it for awhile now anyway.
Instead, he felt like even more of a pervert when his eyes wandered to her bathtub. Remnants of water still left from her earlier shower. The sweet scent of her body wash hanging in the air. The urge to pop the cap open and inhale was strong. Nowhere was safe for his heart here.
He brushed his teeth, vacantly staring at his reflection and remembering how it all started. These sleepovers…
In the beginning, Emmett thought it would be three study sessions max until he got her up and running. After all, he had goals of his own that needed attention. He was so close to achieving them he could taste it. Just one, maybe two more big cases and he might finally be promoted to Associate. As much as he wanted to help others, he couldn't deny his main priority was establishing a stable life for himself. And his mom. He didn't get into law for honor, but for a solid paycheck. If he could ever move on from being a TA, that is…
Honestly, Emmett wasn't even sure what he was getting himself into - did Elle have what it took to keep up with the Harvard curriculum? It surprised him, how fast she picked things up. He never repeated something more than once. She asked intelligent questions. It was impressive to see her progress in such a short period of time.
Then his expectations evolved. Three sessions turned into four, that turned into five…and then - then he stopped counting. He kept wanting to see what she would do next. It was especially rewarding when she gathered the courage to start debating in class. And Elle was good at it. Really good.
But he was lying to himself that it was exclusively about the work. Elle was also really fucking hysterical. She made him laugh like no other. And yes, sometimes she was corny as fuck and he had to roll his eyes at her jokes but he loved it anyways.
He started finding himself studying with her most days.
"Em?"
He was focused on preparing a brief, "Hm?"
"Hey look, don't take this the wrong way. I love you here and all, but wouldn't you be more comfortable working at your own place?"
He considered this, realizing quickly the answer was no. Somehow he felt more himself here, in her Polly Pocket dollhouse of a room than his own. Emmett recalled his own apartment - bare walls, IKEA furniture and the cheapest sheets you could buy on Amazon. It was sterile. A place to crash. And it was missing Elle.
Elle, he realized, would never be there.
"It's fine. I'm fine here."
"Are you sure? I would hate to distract you."
"You distract me more when you call me at 2:00am crying with a question."
"Hey, I feel attacked. I do not call you crying…often."
"See? If I'm here it's just easier."
That's what he had to tell himself.
The next time he was there she presented him with a fluffy hot pink sleeping bag.
"If you're going to be here all the time I'm not going to let you be uncomfortable."
"I see it has to match the esthetics?"
"Hey, pink is my trademark color and if you don't like it you can kindly fuck right off," she smiled sweetly.
But really the pink was growing on him. In more ways than one.
Sometimes, after a Red Bull infused all-nighter they would have in-depth discussions in the wee hours of the morning. They talked about everything from the mundane ("Bruiser got a manicure today!") to the heartfelt ("Will Warner ever notice me again?").
And of course, she asked all about Emmett too. It was funny, even though they barely seemed to have anything in common, Elle always found his interests fascinating. She could talk for hours. He found himself talking to her for hours. It seemed there was never enough time before a new day begun.
Emmett wasn't used to having someone really listen to him. He felt seen.
But he still couldn't wrap his head around how she came all the way to Harvard Law School for some guy. At first it didn't bother him, but the more he got to know Elle the worse it got. He once spent a full evening at home doing a decent amount of MySpace stalking on Warner, trying to figure out what she saw in him. He acknowledged he was deeply disturbed by his own behavior, but overlooked it nonetheless. Warner ignored her, laughed at her behind her back…Elle was his friend and Warner seemed like a total jackass. He owed it to her to open her eyes - her IQ dropped down to 40 whenever she was around him. Maybe less.
That seemed like a turning point for them. He showed Elle that she was like a totally different person in front of him. And she, in turn, realized it was holding her back. After that, they started hanging out constantly.
Elle was a ray of sunshine. Eternally optimistic. Fantastically witty. A genuine human being. Completely magnetic - people gravitated toward her. He likened himself to a planet orbiting her radiant sun. Just basking in its light was good enough for him.
Emmett was truly happy for the first time in a long time. He never had a friend like Elle. She didn't fail to brighten his mood, even on the days they didn't see one another - between texting him an absurd meme or bantering on a news topic, there was always something to look forward to.
He tried to pinpoint the moment his feelings shifted away from friendship to something more.
Maybe there was always an underlying current of want.
A playful touch would leave his skin tingling. The lilt in her sing-song voice made his pulse quicken. Anything remotely resembling a compliment sent his heart into complete overdrive.
He thought of her often. Probably every day. Possibly every hour. If he were being honest, it was impossible not to see a little of her in something everywhere. Somewhere down the line he couldn't remember what it was like before Elle. The intensity of it scared him a little.
Emmett wasn't used to seeing successful relationships. He never really had a male role model he looked up to. His one high school romance went absolutely nowhere and he was awkward as fuck when it came to women. A relationship wasn't exactly a part of his master plan.
But Elle stumbled into his life like the Energizer Bunny. Unrelenting. Unexpected. But not at all unwelcome. And in fact very, very wanted.
It was a bit pathetic, really. How positively giddy he felt every time he knew they would meet. Which was becoming a daily occurrence.
Last week she took Emmett shopping for a suit to impress Callahan. By this time it was dawning on him that how he felt around her was…distinctively not platonic. In a moment of weakness that day he almost kissed her - foiled only by her absolute obliviousness when she brought him in for a bear hug instead.
He was thankful. It could have ruined everything.
He needed to rein himself in. He was her TA after all. Highly inappropriate. Not forbidden, but not exactly kosher. And he couldn't shake the notion that Elle was probably still not completely over Warner. The two of them were friends. She trusted him - enough to let him sleep over every other night. Did she even see him as a man? It was a crippling thought.
So he kept his growing feelings to himself. He could do that right?
In a particularly low moment he considered stealthily finding out her signature perfume so he could purchase some and spritz it on his pillow at home, like a sick fuck.
It all came to a head yesterday at the trial when she used her remarkably brilliant intuition to out Nikos Argitakos' lies on the stand. Emmett may have done the questioning, but it was Elle's guidance that won them that victory. It was indisputable - he was simply spellbound by her.
He resolved to say something that night. At least…feel out the situation. Find out if there was any hope for him. It seemed like good timing.
And then everything went to shit. When he met her at her dorm, tears spilling down her cheeks and mascara runny, he was completely caught off guard. She confessed how Callahan kissed her and fired her. Emmett never thought he could feel such rage - Callahan was a fucking monster. And completely, completely wrong - Elle deserved that internship.
But Elle was too distressed to listen to reason. And the very last thing she needed was another man coming on to her. She wouldn't answer the door, but he knew he could help turn this around for her. A few calls to Vivienne and Enid and they were on their way to get Elle back on the case. Brooke hated Callahan and trusted Elle - he could convince her fire him and have Elle lead the charge. Emmett felt certain the girls could talk Elle back into it, even if he couldn't.
There was the not-so-small problem of this plan requiring him to quit his stable job. The one he worked his whole life towards. The one that demanded so much of him, yet held the promise of a secure future.
But Emmett was ready to throw it all away. For a girl he met less than a year ago. And he was more than okay with that. In an ironic twist of fate, Elle following Warner to Harvard Law School for love seemed less inconceivable to him now.
Emmett felt especially uncomfortable trying to explain to Elle's parents who he was and how he needed them to come support her. Though he had to admit he was flattered when they gushed about knowing him already…Fortunately they had the phone numbers for her Delta Nu sisters and things evolved quickly from there. He spent all night working it out - thank you to my sponsor, Red Bull - making sure there were no flaws in the plan. And it went off without a hitch.
Everything was worth it to see her triumph over the case so quickly. He knew she would be outstanding, but he had no idea she would wrap up the whole thing in a single day.
But that was just how remarkable Elle Woods was. Nothing could stand in her way.
He hoped it all was enough to get her to stay.
To realize she was so much better than she thought possible.
If he loved her enough to do all that, he could pretend this night never happened, right?
Emmett splashed ice cold water on his face and allowed himself a silent sob.
I'm such a schmuck. Go to bed, Forrest.
He wasn't sure if sleep could find him. Despite being utterly exhausted both mentally and physically, Emmett's fine-tuned brain was running a million miles a minute. He needed a game plan on how to compartmentalize his feelings so things could go back to normal.
What even was normal anymore?
He shifted within the sleeping bag onto his side, facing Elle's bed. She had to be asleep by now. He couldn't be sure but they'd had to have turned the lights off at least a half hour ago.
"Em? Are you still awake?" Her voice sounded so small - how was it possible that alone made his heartbeat quicken?
Shit. Too loud.
"Yeah."
"There's something I wanted to tell you."
The hammering in his chest got louder, "What is it?"
The room became quiet again for a brief moment.
Like a shot in the dark she uttered, "Warner proposed tonight, you know?"
His heart sank. He didn't - couldn't - move.
"…Are congratulations in order?"
All at once she was by his side. The scent of sugar-spun candy heavy in the air around them.
"Are you serious, Em?"
He sat up, opening his eyes and adjusting to the dark - trying to find hers. Can I even hide my bitterness? "I don't know, Elle. Just yesterday you wouldn't even let me in your room. I'm…trying to figure out where your head's at and…" he trailed off, turning towards her and finding himself suddenly close. A rogue strand of blond hair was barely tickling his chin. He strongly resisted the urge to curl it behind her ear.
A charged silence filled the air. He could not - would not - say anything. How could he? Didn't I just say to Callahan I didn't have to hit on interns? Elle just put up with one man trying to feel her up - what makes me any different?
I mean, I'm hopelessly in love with her. Sure. But I want what she wants. If that's Warner still, can I really hold my head high and pretend everything is okay? I'll have to.
"I don't even know if you're still leaving…" he lamented, emotions betraying him.
"Emmett, I'm not going anywhere," her tone unreadable.
Tension Emmett didn't even realize he was carrying melted away.
"I'm so relieved," he sighed. It was one of the truest things he'd said all evening.
His eyes finally having adapted to the lack of light - why does she look so angry? I'm so awkward, fuck, I keep saying the wrong thing and I can't bear it when she looks at me that way. I've got to say something to make this better.
"What are you staying for, Elle?"
I'm such a chicken shit. What am I expecting her to say? Me?
Wait…when did she start hovering over me?
He finally noticed how on her knees she was just ever so slightly taller than him sitting up. He looked up at her - eyes so vivid; like she had such clarity of mind.
Elle tentatively brought a hand to stroke his face. He felt himself instinctively relax into her touch. Her skin was so smooth. She leaned down slowly, barely brushing her lips against his, as if testing it out - seeing his reaction - and it's -
It's like electricity - a battery jolt all throughout his body. A shock that short-circuited his all his senses. Emmett tried to think but all he could do was feel.
Am I kissing her back? I am, oh thank God. He brought a shaky hand to cup her cheek, trying to bring her closer to himself if possible. Is this real?
Soft, soft, soft -
All he could think about was exploring her mouth. Don't be too rough - don't scare her - be chaste -
But she opened her mouth and - fuck - he was granting her access to anything she wanted. She could have it - have him. The slide of her tongue against his was addictive. She tasted of sweet strawberry lipgloss and he couldn't get enough. He felt his breaths, sounding practically desperate, shuddering against her skin and was determined to keep his composure.
Until she grasped his lower lip between her teeth and sucked and God-
What sound did I just make? It must have sounded pathetic didn't it?
Elle paused, so breathless and flushed, "Is this okay?"
"Yes," Emmett gasped, closing the gap. Please.
And just like that - between frantic, obscene kisses - Emmett was blindly being led to the bed with the touch of her hand. But he was still too afraid to touch her anywhere else - too afraid to ruin this - whatever this was- it was too delicate - too precious.
He brought her with him as he collided with the sheets, refusing to let his lips be parted from her - relishing in this new, intimate feeling he couldn't let go of just yet. And then she was straddling him, completely at her mercy. I would do anything for her. Let her pick out my clothes? Check. Quit my job? Check. Take me body and soul…she's had that a long time now, hasn't she?
Elle extracted herself from his lips with a pop - evoking a not-so-subtle, protesting whine from Emmett - and took his hands from her face and placed them on her waist. "Emmett, I'm not glass. You can touch me."
Clear permission. Could he even keep himself in line? They were both still fully clothed. And seeing her in his sweatshirt did things to him…
She wrapped herself against him and captured his lips with hers again. Supple and swollen and perfect. He trembled with the fragile, achingly pure feeling unfolding within him. More, please…
His calloused fingers slowly inched the sweatshirt up to reveal smooth skin. A soft mewl escaped from her as their mouths parted and collided again, over and over. Dimly he heard himself whimper, betraying the state of his desire. I could never get enough…
It was when she rocked herself firmly against him that he became aware of his growing arousal. This is moving too fast-
And then she grasped the hem of her - his - sweatshirt, tossing it on the headboard and he near lost his mind. Her chest was completely bare. She was luminous.
"Well, you weren't doing it…and I want you to touch me. Do I…have to beg?"
He heard his own voice rasp, raw with need, "You are so perfect."
Fuck it. My conscience can absolutely, completely fuck right off. All that matters right now is this moment. And making her feel good…
He flipped them around, stroking up the sensitive skin of her leg as she mewled into his mouth. He wanted to make her dizzy from his tongue. Lost in sensation. Writhing against him. When did he get this possessive?
A hand tentatively inched up her torso, settling on the underside of one breast, feeling the weight of it resting against his long, tapered fingers. Shit- He practically attacked her neck to keep himself in check, but with her heartbeat hammering against his teeth - his hand - how could he even? What was this euphoria?
Her fingers curled along his scalp, pulling, edging him desperately closer - was that even possible? Emmett whimpered in painful arousal, feeling his shaft strain against the fabric of his sweatpants. He absentmindedly ground his hips against Elle's as his tongue swirled with hers again. And again. Divine torture.
Emmett hesitantly brushed a thumb over one rosy peak. The sound she made as it pebbled beneath his touch was delicious. Encouraged, he reached up to cradle the swell of her breast in his hand and - fuck - she was moaning and arching and he was certain he could drown in her. Instinctively he brought up his other hand and he was kneading, and dipped down to place a reverent kiss in the valley between her mounds.
"Please," someone gasped. His hazy mind couldn't discern which one of them said it.
He breathed up into her mouth hotly, "What do you want, Elle?"
She cried out in a way that was absolutely unhinged as she pushed his head back down to her cleavage. Losing himself entirely in the heady sensation he captured a nipple, laving it with his nimble tongue and sucked.
Emmett's mouth vibrated around her skin, unable to contain his mounting pleasure. He trailed his lips from one breast to the other, repeating the treatment. God, this is beyond-
But he was suddenly knocked back by her, confusing him for a brief moment, until he saw her slender fingers pushing his shirt over his torso. Emmett felt her lips hovering over his abdomen and - fuckingshit - trailed a line of wet kisses up his chest as she peeled the fabric up and over his head. He didn't realize how damp it was with perspiration - was he too sweaty? Did she mind? Could she tell how nervous he was? That one word from her could hang the moon and the stars?
But Elle didn't seem to care as she carded her hands through his curls and brought her lips to his again. She seduced him with her soft body and talented, addicting fingers along his neck, collarbone, shoulders…a wrecked sob tore from his throat when she ghosted her teeth along his ear.
Emmett felt himself teeter along the precipice of sanity. He wasn't sure how much more of this excruciatingly beautiful torment he could take.
Which was well enough when he felt Elle trying to catch his attention with her hands on his face.
"Elle?" It came out breathy and a little desperate, ripping him back to reality.
She moved away from him with intention - No, please come back.
Elle suddenly seemed very, very nervous. "Um…In the interest of keeping things incredibly honest…"
"And tonight we're being crystal clear right?" The sarcasm was absolutely dripping off his lips.
"Absolutely."
What a joke. But I'll play along.
"There's something you should know."
That's it. I knew it. I'm the last hurrah before settling down. Running on the high of her victory. At worse - a pity fuck. It didn't matter Emmett knew Elle would never do these things. He knew Elle. Possibly better than anyone. But he simply couldn't be rational in this moment. Old habits die hard.
Her bottom lip trembled and suddenly she looked absolutely heartbroken. Fuck me.
"I've never told anyone this before…" she cried.
He felt himself cradle her face in his hands before he even realized what he was doing.
"Hey, hey - look at me."
She did. Stunning.
"It's just me. You can tell me anything."
He was circling the corners of her mouth patiently.
"I know. Okay. I've…" she breathed out, "I've never done…this with anyone other than Warner."
That's it?
Elle is too pure for this world.
"And why does it upset you so much?" Emmett asked earnestly.
He could see her mind working as she spoke, "He was the only one I've ever…and not only that…"
Emmett was genuinely curious now.
"I've never…y'know…with Warner. Y'know?"
She looked satisfied with that explanation.
A beat of silence hung through the air.
He chortled. He couldn't fucking help it. This was too much.
Elle's face plumped like a tomato, "I'm sorry, are you LAUGHING at me?"
He had to rein it in. "I'm sorry, no, no, of course not it's just…after what we've been doing it's just…too cute that you're shy. But - look - I don't want to pry but I still don't quite understand-"
"I've never had an orgasm with Warner! There!" She spread her arms out in exasperation, "Now it's out there!"
It was so quiet you could hear a pin could drop.
Now it was his turn to process, "Come again?"
"That's the PROBLEM, Emmett!"
Oh wowowow, "Okay, that," he pointed a finger at her, "was adorable." She was still pouting. "I walked right into that one."
"I'm being serious," she sulked.
"I'm sorry." He pressed his lips to her forehead, "I know you are. I'm not here to judge."
"But you are here to law." Elle's eyebrows oscillated in jest.
"I am not going to dignify that with a response."
They both were chuckling now. He hoped their banter calmed her down a bit, lightening the mood. But really, she was right - this was serious.
How was this possible? Hadn't she been with Warner for…years? Maybe?
Elle sighed, "I've only given myself…y'know. Alone. I thought, I don't know - it was normal? And Warner was clearly enjoying himself and at the time that made me happy, I think. But I ended up down a rabbit hole of research trying to figure out what was wrong with me."
"Elle, there is unequivocally nothing wrong with you."
"I'm thinking maybe I just can't from sex with another person," she said matter-of-factly.
Warner is a fucking tool. "I seriously doubt that."
"I wanted to tell you so you wouldn't be…disappointed?" Elle looked so sincere, "I don't want to fake anything with you, ever."
"I could never be disappointed with you, Elle." He said very seriously.
"But this is so very fun!" She assured, a radiant smile blooming across her features, "Now, let's move on to you."
She reached for his pants and Emmett's cock practically leaped in anticipation. Down boy. He caught her hand with his and Elle stared up in confusion.
"Show me?"
Elle cocked her head to the side, "Hm?"
Courage Emmett, courage. "Show me what you like? How you…touch yourself?" I want to make you feel good…
Something jolted across her features and her mouth parted, as if he suggested something completely ludicrous. He watched her bite her bottom lip in consternation - No, please let me do that.
But he was anything if not a patient man. One of my few virtues…
"You…really want me to? It wouldn't…bore you?"
Well, what the ever-loving fuck. What kind of asshole was Warner that she would think this about herself?
And then it dawned on him the same thing happened last night. When Callahan practically assaulted her she assumed it was her fault. That she was to blame, and she had no worth.
Her self-esteem was fragile.
Never again.
She was everything to him.
"Absolutely nothing about you could bore me."
She considered this. "It could…take awhile, maybe?"
Yes, yes, yes. Please.
"As long as it takes," he moved closer to her, "I want to see you." I want to see you come apart against your own fingers and maybe even let me... "And if it doesn't happen, that's okay. I want you to be comfortable."
"I always am when I'm with you." Like a punch to the gut. God, I am so fucked.
And there she was again with her lips on his and it was like finding an oasis in the fucking desert. Emmett felt her shifting - was she removing her shorts? No-
"Let me," he breathed attentively, fingers dancing along the waistband. Their eyes locked and she tentatively lifted her hips, watching him. He slowly peeled the scrap of fabric down her toned legs, peppering tender kisses along the way. Her soft gasps egged him on as he smiled against a slim ankle. Now she was clad only in a pair of panties. Pink. Of course. So cute.
She noticeably shuddered when he reached for the lace and Emmett immediately released her, "Is this too fast?"
Sensing the loss of his heat, she clawed for him "No, no - it's good."
He leaned back in, nuzzling her nose with his, "Yeah?"
"Yes. I'm just…" A pause.
"Did I ask for too much? We can stop anytime."
She cut him off abruptly with lips to his, "Don't you dare."
The lazy roll of her tongue against his sent him spiraling again - "If this is all we do, that's good enough for me, really. I'm not him. I don't expect anything of you."
"Emmett, as sweet and thoughtful as you are, and you absolutely are - I'm going to need you to shut up now."
He whimpered in acknowledgement, stroking himself into her mouth. Is it fucked up how hot that was? How impossibly turned on he's become?
"I've just never felt this way," she explained, "I kind of feel…everywhere, everything all at once. And it's a little scary. But good. So, so good, Em."
A delightful heat bloomed in his chest and he thought he would choke with want. This woman was going to kill him. And it would be the sweetest death.
He experimentally traced circles across her hips, on and around pretty pink lace, occasionally thumbing under the edges to touch her satin skin. I want to see so badly.
Elle pressed a hand to his chest and he searched her eyes. He watched as her fingers trailed low to her panties, dipping into the hollow space between her legs.
He imagined his heart would stop beating any moment now. She was really going to touch herself. For him.
One finger moved back and forth along herself, luxuriating in the feeling of fabric against slick flesh. His gaze intensified, noticing a darkening wetness blooming through the fabric. She began rubbing in slow, deliberate circles.
"You're driving me crazy," he couldn't stop himself from revealing, awe-struck.
The words seemed to have a striking effect on her as she tried to stifle a low moan.
Oh shit…was it possible Elle liked dirty talk?
The discovery made his impossibly hard dick leap in elation.
I can barely say the right thing in front of her…how can I-
But all thought was pushed aside when the hasty, hurried, filthy echos of wet flesh slipping, smacking against her fingers brought him straight back to reality. He could practically feel his pupils dilating.
Her cheeks and chest were flushed - shuddering breaths and soft sighs drowned out by the sloppy sounds of her fingers rubbing urgently against the damp fabric.
"Emmett," she moaned, his name a litany on her lips.
"Say it again," he urged.
But she was too consumed in feeling. The pace of her fingers at her clit through the thin, sodden cloth was relentless.
Emmett couldn't help but lean forward and press his hot mouth to her collarbone, trailing his hand down a creamy thigh, "You're so, so beautiful."
She gazed down at him with a half-lidded, dreamy expression, "You're distracting me."
"That's the idea" he mumbled absentmindedly against her décolletage.
"Look at me," she whispered against his temple.
Their eyes met again. His heart wrenched with want. Too intimate. I can't-
"It's different with you here."
"Hm?" Was it bad? Was he bad? At this?
"I really want you to touch me."
Ah.
"Where? Where am I allowed…?"
He hoped it didn't sound too eager.
Elle brought his hands over the lace and helped him move the offending garment off her body, discarding it. She leaned back, her hair cascading across the pillow like a halo.
His throat tightened, swallowing audibly.
She was drenched. Coarse hair lightly curling with moisture there.
It was the single most erotic sight he'd ever seen.
He was terrified by the intensity of his thoughts to swallow her whole and keep her for himself. The deafening sound of his heartbeat jumping pulsed aggressively throughout him.
Emmett sat back, allowing her space before he lost himself. "You are absolutely gorgeous."
Elle looked up with a luminous smile, "So are you."
He couldn't help sporting a lopsided grin. Oh man, how dopey do I look right now? How obvious is it that my heart is leaping out of my chest?
Emmett reached for her, palming the underside of a soft breast.
She whined in protest, "Em, please."
"Tell me what you want, Elle."
She urged his hand toward her entrance, "Here."
Emmett Forrest was one of the top Harvard graduates of his class. His ability to study and absorb knowledge was unparalleled. And he possessed a photographic memory. A skill he was absolutely about to take full advantage of.
Sweet fuck, she was really letting him do this.
He slid a single finger up her slit and - Jesus - she was so wet and delightfully pink. She looked absolutely exquisite. And it was turning him on to no end.
"Emmett," she cried, "Don't tease me, please."
If he had it his way he would be at this all night. Tomorrow. The entire week.
He was consumed with the thought of making Elle Woods come.
Emmett pressed his finger further against her, wetting the tip and spreading moisture to her swollen nub. He orbited her clit, once, twice-
A choked sound ripped from her lips. How was it possible this woman was so flawlessly stunning? Did she even know?
He took note of every reaction, every small detail or flash of emotion as he circled her again and again. He added a second finger. He wanted to work her up slowly, painfully slowly, as slowly as she would let him.
I worship you.
He could never say that out loud. But that didn't make it untrue.
"Do you want it faster, Elle?"
A visceral, guttural moan escaped from her, "Please."
Emmett alternated his movements between slow, meticulous circles and hard, fast strokes. Building her up, only to stop when she began trembling and watch her writhe. And repeating the cycle. It was hypnotic to behold.
It wasn't long before Elle was vibrating with need. His control was slipping.
In a moment of absolute weakness he extracted his fingers from her dripping body and parted her with his tongue.
Her reaction was immediate and shuddering, "Emmettttt," she slurred, "Em, you - you - don't-"
Shit, I didn't get permission-
"Not good?" He asked, a little breathless.
"No, no, no, I've just never - and I can't imagine you'd want-"
"You have no idea what I want," he said simply and he licked her there again.
Elle twisted the sheets, breathing rapidly. So very beautiful.
Emmett used his tongue and lips and teeth to bring her there again, mimicking the movements of his fingers the best he could. Lapping, dipping, circling. His hands massaging her thighs, holding her open so he could maintain better access. He felt her core rippling against his lips.
"Emmett, I-"
"I've got you. I've always got you," he urged against her swollen flesh.
She was convulsing, spasming, coming apart in his arms and it was fucking devastatingly otherworldly how debauched she was - crying his name, grasping for his hair, and feeling the waves of pleasure crest and erode through her being.
If that wasn't a fucking ego boost, I don't know what is.
Emmett continued the lazy movement of his tongue against her folds during her orgasm, feeling her slacken, pulsing like a drum. He was trying to draw this out for her. Make it fucking impossible for her to forget him. But he was lying if he wasn't also trying to imprint the taste of her upon himself. An addictive salty-sweet confection.
"Em…" Her breaths were shallow, heaving as she called for him.
Hearing his name hazily brought Emmett back to Earth. He lifted his head up to gaze at her adoringly.
Something crumbled on Elle's face and she practically dragged him up to her, opening herself and devouring him. Clearly she didn't mind the taste of herself in his mouth still.
Emmett's hands found themselves tangled in her blonde strands - the hair he'd always, always, wanted to touch this way.
I want to be yours so badly.
But he couldn't say that either.
What could he say?
"So…still think there's something wrong with you?" He smirked.
"Oh, there's something wrong with me all right," Elle breathed very seriously, "And the problem is you not being inside me right fucking now, Mr. Forrest."
Emmett melted. Not sure if he'd reconstitute. He liked himself being putty in her hands.
But a thought dawned on him.
"I…Elle, we need protection."
"Oh, we're good," she said confidently, a tinge of excitement in her voice.
With that, she leaned over and opened her side table drawer.
Emmett thought his eyes were going to pop out if his skull.
"You have condoms!?" He exclaimed, a little breathy.
"Do you?"
"No."
"Well, then one of us here is a critical thinker."
Emmett teased, "Smart ass."
"You're welcome."
Seeing that box of condoms brought up a lot of concerning questions that he had no business about knowing the answers to. Wondering who she was planning on using them with. Probably Warner. He needed to push the ugly feeling aside and focus on the present.
"I can't help noticing that is a rather large box."
"It is."
"It would be shame to let it go to waste."
"My thoughts exactly."
And with that she she moved her hand to cup him over his sweatpants. How was he even still wearing them?
It was Emmett's turn to flush wildly. He had nearly forgotten about his pleasure, being so all-consumed with hers.
He was absolutely mortified to realize he was also wet. Very, very wet. Thank god he wore black. Hopefully she wouldn't be able to tell through the fabric - at least until she got to his boxers.
But Elle was on a mission and who was he to interrupt her plans? She molded her mouth to his as she frantically tried to push the fabric down past his legs. Emmett was more than willing to assist. He didn't realize how eager she was, as she simply took off both pants and boxers in one go.
And she stared at him. There.
It was a little unnerving. Emmett knew he wasn't as tall or built as Warner. She might have expectations, and-
She fucking moistened her lips.
This wasn't going to last long was it?
Elle reached a hand down to lightly grasp him. His cock jerked helplessly in her palm, angry and weeping. She was entranced as she moved a finger over the head, spreading the wetness, and he gasped in a very broken way. One touch and he was a fucking mess.
"You're amazing. You know that?"
"Elle…"
"I want to see you come too," she whispered against his mouth, "Desperately."
"Oh god," he croaked. Too much, too much….
She sensed this might be a lot of stimulation for him and pulled back. Thank god. He could breathe again.
"Elle," he said her name like a prayer, "If you keep touching me like that we won't even get to putting on the condom."
She smiled sweetly and - shit - she was beyond gorgeous with her tousled hair and glowing skin. How was this even happening right now? What had he done in any life to deserve this?
He collected himself and smoothed his hands over her hips, rhythmically caressing her, "Thank you. I needed a minute."
"I could see that," she grinned like a Cheshire Cat.
"Hey, you - don't get cocky now."
"Oh, I plan on getting very cocky."
Oh my God. Send help for my departed soul.
"You are ridiculous."
"Ridiculously adorable, you mean."
"Without a doubt," his eyes narrowed as he leaned in for another kiss, holding her head in his hands. Elle wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him. He felt his heart stumble up against hers, yearning, pining, hoping-
Emmett wanted to protect this cherished, perfect moment forever. And he desperately wished to keep the woman he loved so very, very much.
He reached down and angled her hips apart, moistening his fingers and slowly pushing a single digit inside, curling up against the roof of her. Elle rasped his name into his mouth and he swallowed it down greedily.
Emmett was losing himself again in the thought of stretching her - preparing her. He circled her entrance again as he watched her face contort in pleasure. Another finger. She was a fucking goddess.
Elle broke away to grab a condom on the nightstand.
They were really fucking going there.
This was happening.
Emmett's heartbeat stumbled erratically right along with his ability to breathe as he watched Elle open the foil and roll it down onto him. Fuck - this so hot. Better than any fucking wet dream he's ever had. Becuase it's real.
"Emmett, is this okay?"
If okay meant fuck-this-is-the-greatest-moment-of-my-entire-life, then yeah. This is fucking okay.
"It is beyond okay," he said dazedly, eyes half-lidded.
Her radiance eclipsed him and suddenly he was on his back, Elle rubbing herself against his stiff appendage.
Holy shittttt-
He had to catch his breath. This was so intense. This was what sex was like when you loved someone? She was wet, and warm, and everything.
He held on to her hips for dear life as she swirled herself around the head of his member, hitting her clit over and over again. Emmett moved his hands to her ass, grasping her, mumbling incoherently, desperate, needy, begging her to do anything, she could have him-
It was exquisite agony.
And then finally she was taking him in, and they both moaned with the feeling of completion.
Emmett noticed Elle was a bit wobbly on her descent - "I'm right here," he whispered as he helped guide her. She was shuddering a bit - naked and beautifully exposed. All for him.
He took note of her choked expression, "Good?"
"Very," she breathed.
It was a relief. Because it felt like heaven inside of her.
His head was completely clouded, unable to process anything other than the feeling of finally being joined with her. Her slick heat, damp skin, soft hair - absolutely everything about her - overwhelmed his senses.
Could I even go back to life before this moment? Before knowing this ecstasy?
And then she started moving.
His heart raced. Too much, too much emotion rippled through his being.
Don't ruin the moment by spilling your heart out. Keep your cool, don't scare her away…
"I love you."
Shit, how did I - am I really that desperately-
"Emmett, I love you so much."
What?
Something in him came undone. A violent feeling, releasing, loosening in his chest. All his insecurities, every falsehood, crystallizing, intensifying, and melting away all at once.
He felt his eyes flutter open to search for hers. Did I hear her right? His hands flew to her hips to still her.
Their eyes locked for a single moment before Elle's face suddenly flushed, realizing what she said. She looked away, bringing a hand up to conceal herself from him. What does my expression look like? She can't possibly think-
"Oh my god, I - you - you don't have to say it back." It sounded so small and fragile.
No, no, no-
Emmett surged forward, his hands grasping her face, forcing their eyes together once more. Why did hers look so glassy? His thumbs smoothed over her rosy cheeks - So pink, God, it's practically becoming my favorite color. Or maybe it's been my favorite color for a long time now. So beautiful…
"Elle, don't you know how in love with you I am? Do you have any idea…"
The dam was completely broken now. He realized he couldn't hold back anymore, even if he wanted to.
"…any idea at all what you do to me?"
He traced the fingers of one hand reverently up her neck, along her jaw, between her eyebrows, before lacing them through her resplendant blonde hair. His other hand never left her cheek, stroking so, so gently, "There's no way…"
She hiccuped, a sweet laugh bubbling out. He felt himself smile in earnest and relief flooded him. Fuck, she's so adorable.
She reached out, her manicured hands smoothing down his scruffy mane. "I think I may have some idea," she breathed and her mouth pressed to the shell of his ear.
Fuck. He was keenly aware how impossibly hard he was inside of her. "Elle, I can't think rationally when I'm with you." He punctuated this with a slow roll of the hips that had them both gasping.
His lips danced along the nape of her neck as he slowly thrust. "You're brilliant. And kind. And so good - too good. I want everything for you, with you, I want it all."
Emmett felt her arch, pressing her body further against him and he leaned down to suckle her. The sounds she made were so fucking arousing. He was certain he was going mad.
He was throbbing, rocking his cock slow and deep inside her. He wanted to make this last. "God, Elle. I adore you," hands sliding to the small of her back, watching her rise and fall above him.
She reached for his hands and instinctively Emmett laced his fingers with hers. He gently changed their position, pressing their conjoined hands on either side of her head, framing her open mouthed, absolutely unbridled expression.
Emmett's entire body was thrumming with unsnapped tension. He was trying to go slow, but the stimulation was becoming overwhelming. Every thrust took complete concentration, a commodity that was rapidly deteriorating from his consciousness.
"Don't hold back, please," he heard Elle plead.
Well what the hell.
Their choppy breaths met in carnal desire as he pumped harder inside her. He released her hands and angled her quivering hips, clenching his fingers against supple skin, seeking to get just even a fraction more of himself inside her, as deep as possible. It could never be enough. He wanted her to consume him. He wanted to be hers.
Elle suddenly cried out, her teeth finding purchase on his jugular. Emmett was so lost in sensation but he acutely felt the moment where she branded him. And - Dear God - he might actually be a masochist - because - fuck - how was he even more turned on than before?
"Emmett, I - I'm close," she gasped.
He couldn't believe his ears. Just earlier Elle wasn't even sure she could come with another person and here she was absolutely wanton. With him. He was determined to get her there again.
He laid back and pulled her on top of him, "Move however it feels good, Elle."
Without missing a beat she was riding him in earnest, Emmett watching in wonder as she chased her pleasure on him. He dipped a hand down to where they were joined, moistening his thumb and began circling the bundle of concentrated nerve endings at her center.
It didn't take long. Soon he felt her muscles rhythmically spasming around him, watching her body shuddering and fluttering and become simply magical. He would never tire of this. He could spend his entire life making this woman come, he was certain of it. She was heaven for a cock. His cock.
Emmett continued working her clit gently as she recovered, trembling with the aftershocks. He still slowly thrust against her inner walls, unable to help himself. Finally, he paused when she began giggling into his mouth.
"Emmett, oh my Godddd," she couldn't help babbling.
"But suuuure, maybe you can't come from sex with another person," he chided, "We should keep testing that hyper-accurate theory. A lot of sessions. We better try often to make sure we're being really thorough."
She practically guffawed and the sound still made his dick throb painfully, "Why do you always have to be right?"
"I just am when I'm with you," he gasped when she rotated her hips again. And again.
"Elle," he croaked, feeling the stirrings of pleasure rise within him.
"I want to see you come, Em."
"Elle," it came out a broken sob as he stroked himself against her. She was so tight. His perfect fit.
"Please," she whispered, quietly against his lips.
And that's all it took for him to cry out in abandon, frantically grasping at any available flesh. His restraint tumbled against her strong inner grip, spending himself and surging hard once, twice, three times, exhaling and shuddering with intensity he didn't even know he was capable of. Emmett was a trembling, shaking mess. All of this time wanting, wanting, wanting and now finally having. And all the while Elle held him so very tenderly, and she smelled so sweet and - fuck - he involuntarily, jerked his hips a few clumsy times in the aftermath of pleasure and she was just everything.
He could never go back to whatever normal was.
And he certainly didn't want to.
Emmett stared up at the ceiling of Elle's dorm with her cocooned in his arms, trying to figure out what he did so right in life.
He was deliriously happy. It was frankly downright disgusting. Elle said she loved him. How did this even happen?
"I'm so sorry about this," she brought her fingers to the mark on his neck.
He captured her palm, their conjoined hands clasped along the bruise, "I'm not. It's proof I'm yours."
She buried her face against his chest and made a muffled sound, "Agggh, stop that. That is so cute."
He beamed, grinning widely, "Me? I'm the cute one?"
"I would have jumped your bones way sooner if I could have."
What the fuck was he hearing?
"Really? When?"
"I don't know…awhile? Around the time I bought you that suit? Maybe before?"
It was the same for him. Could it be they've been feeling the same way all this time?
It brought him no pleasure whatsoever to ruin the mood and yet…
"We should talk," Emmett said.
"Okay. Shoot."
"In the interest of being absolutely transparent - because we're being totally honest now, right?"
"Always."
"You were giving me wildly mixed signals tonight."
Elle suddenly pushed her naked body away from him, looking absolutely livid and she jiggled. How he was still capable of blushing was a mystery, but he grabbed his discarded sweatshirt from over the headboard and wrapped her in it. Can't be getting too distracted-
"WHAT?!" Elle screamed, simply incredulous.
"I'm just saying-"
"Oh, no. Let me break this down for you, Mr. Forrest."
Yikes, she's angry. But still real adorable.
Yeah, he was definitely fucked for life.
"I intended for this to be a date."
He couldn't help but conceal a laugh, "Could have fooled me."
"Oh really? Do tell."
"You told me to dress comfortable."
"I LIKE your scruffy vibe! Also, let's be real, you hate the suit."
"I do hate the suit."
"See?"
"But comfy clothes are distinctly unsexy."
"They are much easier to remove."
"Touché. But we got the cheapest take-out known to man. That is very un-date like."
"Because I knew you were going to pull some 'I'm a big strong man and have to pay for her meal' garbage and you fucking just lost your job. I did it ON PURPOSE."
That it. Game over. She is perfect.
"Well…you told me I was your best friend."
"You ARE!"
His eyes narrowed, "That is very friendzoney territory…pal."
"Okay, but to be fair you didn't even let me finish where I was going with it. You straight up exited the conversation."
"Put yourself in my shoes. That felt like immediate rejection before I even said anything."
She softened, "You were going to say something?"
"I was actually planning to yesterday when…"
It dawned on her. "Oh."
"And then today…right before I could bring it up you started talking about being friends. And with everything that happened…"
They both looked down at the bedsheets. It seems we really need to work on our communication skills…
"And then I thought - if you could get up and leave here so easily…maybe I was never-"
"Hey, hey," she clasped their hands together and held them, "I never wanted to leave you. That's the very last thing, I….I just…I thought if Callahan thought that about me, that you somehow also…it's so stupid. It didn't matter that I knew you would never…Emmett, I know you."
How have our thoughts been the same all this time?
"But then I saw you at the trial and…you really believed in me. You saw me."
"I've always seen you, Elle." Words were never truer.
"In the beginning, I'd been so focused on Warner that I just…and then everything started changing and now I love law and I want to become a lawyer. And you helped me realize that. I want totally different things now than I did last year."
He had to ask, "And Warner?"
"Warner is a fucking dumbass."
Okay, those words were never truer.
"But…the condoms?"
"What about the condoms?" She asked in confusion.
"When did you…?"
"I dunno, sometime last week when I was feeling…hopeful?"
I am such an idiot. Of course.
"Okay…but he proposed?"
"And I said no."
"But…but you brought it up-"
"It was a last ditch effort to try to save the night. Did it work?"
"You tell me," he leaned in to smooth a lock of hair behind her ear.
She swatted it away, "Anyway, you on the other hand-"
An intangible feeling rose within him, "What about me?"
"You were being totally weird. And I could never get a good read on - look, I know I'm attractive. But I wasn't super confident that I was exactly your type-"
"You are out of your mind. I was trying to be respectful…"
"Which came across as uninterested."
His fingers flew to his temples, "You've got to be kidding me…"
"Nope."
"I…thought you might still be hung up on Warner?"
"Warner has been out of the picture for months now. How was it not obvious?"
"It just wasn't, okay!"
"I mean, I told you earlier I turned him down!"
"When we were going to sleep? You didn't exactly say that in so many words…"
"Then it was heavily implied."
How have we both been so…
"Emmett, look at me."
He did.
"The way I feel about you…It does not compare at all. It isn't even remotely the same. It's so much better."
Emmett's heart soared and he couldn't imagine being more smitten.
"And I can't believe you did all this for me. You're so fucking insane, you know that?"
"All of what?"
"Don't play dumb, mister. Did you really think I wasn't going to figure it out? Seemed like things really fell into place super perfectly today - a little too perfectly. Vivienne meeting me at Paulette's, Brooke hiring me, you coincidentally there to supervise with prepared documentation… How long were you at this yesterday? I mean you literally called my parents to fly across the country. Did you think this was somehow going to get swept under the rug?"
Emmett gulped and wasn't even sure he could breathe properly. Was he in trouble? Did he overstep? Shit-
"You are never again allowed to poke fun at how I started school here, you absolute fucking hypocrite."
"So…"
"Look, I am all here for grand gestures. But now how am I going to be able to top that?" She exclaimed with exasperation.
He breathed a sigh of relief.
"So…you are definitely, definitely staying."
"Yes, Em, I'm staying right here. With you."
"But I really don't want you to stay here for me."
She made a face at him.
"Okay, yeah, that's a lie, I 100% want you to stay for me. But I'd absolutely hate it if that were the only reason. Look at where you are and how much you've accomplished in such a short period of time. You have drive and dedication and you don't compromise your integrity. It's a quality you don't see in many lawyers, forget about most people. You are worth so much more than you give yourself credit for. And when I say you're going to be an amazing lawyer, I'm not saying it out of pity or some kind of obligation because I like you. I say it because it's unequivocally, unabashedly true."
Elle slowly crawled into Emmett's lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, "You see? Emmett, when you say things like that…how can I not be completely in love with you?"
He crushed her to him. Emmett wanted to keep the precious weight of her in his arms and never let go.
And that is exactly what he intended to do.
"So," Elle gestured to the clock on her bed stand, "about those early Saturday morning things to do…." She smiled wickedly.
"Oh, I plan to get a lot done."
And so they did.
Fin.