Actor Chris Evans receives a visit to his LA home for Valentine’s Day weekend with his girlfriend, Emery Thomas and her brother, Parker
Part 1: Valentine’s Weekend
Word Count 2202
“Ha! I win! Suck it!” Parker shouts. The noise of good-natured ribbing drifts up the stairs and Chris smiles at the welcomed intrusion to his solitude. Even though he decided not to attend this year’s Super Bowl, he held true to his Christmas promise to Emery’s younger brother. Thanks to President’s Day, Emery and Parker had a much needed three- day weekend available, so Chris eagerly invited them to visit LA. He knew he would still be busy with reshoots, and might even get called to the set. To keep the younger boy from getting bored, and to keep him entertained so he and Emery could have time alone, Chris suggested Parker bring a friend along. The two boys are already enjoying the pool table and the gaming station down in the den, while he and Emery spend time tangled on the couch together in the living space off the kitchen, overlooking the valley, resting for a bit before he grills burgers on the back patio by the pool.
“Sounds like they’re having a good time,” Emery smiles warmly. “That game doesn’t release for a few more weeks! I can’t believe you got it! You are their god now!”
“Oh staahp! You are the only one to worship me this weekend,” Chris smiles at his lovely girlfriend.
“Believe me! I plan to! I’ve been spoiled, you coming to visit all the time. The last two weeks without you was a nightmare!” she giggles. He hums his agreement.
“I missed you too! Why do you think I found it necessary to kiss you in every room of the house?” Chris teases. Emery heatedly smiles at the very vivid memory of the tour Chris recently gave of his LA home. Out of the corner of his eye he can see the rose blush on her cheeks, showing him just how much she enjoyed the piano in the sunroom on the back of the house, recalling to mind one of their first intimate moments together months ago. The memory stirs a feeling deep inside him, a tenderness he feels for this tiny powerhouse, and he tugs at her lose red locks.
She leans into his touch, loving his hands in her hair. She’d never say it to him, but she kinda misses the beard. As much as it was Steve Rogers that caught her attention, it is Chris himself whom she loves. And her Chris has always had a beard! “You’re shaved again. You weren’t in the damn paparazzi photos I saw yesterday?”
He growls quietly, “Can’t a man have a cigarette in peace? Yea, we filmed again; God, I hate shaving.”
She chuckles, “No privacy if you’re hanging out in a parking lot in LA late at night… You know I hate pap shots, and they usually make me cringe, but damn, they were hot as fuck. I know I should not find pictures of you smoking sexy, but so help me God, I do.”
He laughs with her, “I look hot smoking… wow. You hate that I socially smoke… Isn’t there something sacrilegious about that statement, babe?”
She giggles, “So much wrong in that statement! But all the more tempting, I think that’s what it is. The bad boy image reflected in that sweet and innocent sweater. We want it. All. Both sides.”
He pokes her playfully in the side, “Identifying with the whole fandom again?”
“Damn straight… I will forever be a member of your fan club.” Emery kisses his palm and the couple sits in a comfortable silence for a while, touching and caressing, enjoying being in the presence of one another again.
“I know you’re tired, but you’re awfully quiet.” Sometimes he hates that he can read her so well. “Spill. You hate it?”
She quietly chuckles as she plays with the curls of hair on his arms, wrapped around her waist, feeling his breath hot and moist on the back of her neck. “I don’t hate it; it’s very beautiful and sleek. It just doesn’t look like you live here,” she says tiredly. “It’s not like your apartment back home in Boston. I just really don’t see YOU in this space.”
Chris smiles at her honest judgement. His heart soars when she calls Boston ‘home.’ “Well, I really haven’t had the chance to live here. I mean, it’s been mine for a while, but after my last failed relationship, I had a decorator come in; got rid of stuff. Then I spent last winter in Boston, with all the snow, and AOU press. And nearly 6 months in Georgia. So you’re right, I really haven’t lived here.” His hands travel under the waistband of her pants to caress the soft skin on her belly. He chuckles when she giggles at his light touch.
She sighs, trying to understand the need for such a grandiose home if it’s rarely used, for just one man. She doesn’t like the answer in her mind, thinking this space definitely caters to the needs of a single man in Hollywood. She shudders to think what the house decor looked like before he had it redecorated. Emery quickly shoves that idea from her mind, shutting out those thoughts rapidly. Everything has a sleek, clean look, almost like a hotel, with few personal touches other than his bedroom and the den, full of Patriots and Avengers memorabilia. The downstairs is definitely suitable for friends to gather for Sunday football parties. To her, it’s the one space in the house that seems inviting and welcoming. “So why do you keep it if you’re never here; why not just a nice penthouse somewhere for when you’re in town?”
He shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t know. It was the first thing I really bought for myself, and did on my own. And you gotta admit- the view is wicked!” Chris sweeps his arms out, drawing her attention to look out the large windows that fill the wall of the room. “Can you work with it? Could it feel like home to you?” he whispers quietly and he feels the change in her body.
A heated tingle runs through her and she turns her upper body to look at him. His question has thrown her off guard. He groans at having to remove his hands from her warmth. “Are we doing this now? I just got off the plane, and we haven’t even had dinner yet,” Emery responds quietly.
“You say that like you think it’s going to be a fight,” he defensively states.
“I think it could be two Type A personalities sharing their opinions and it might not go calmly,” she cautions him.
“We worked it all out in an empty parking lot one night but I think I prefer the comfort of my couch this time,” he chuckles.
Emery interrupts. “I do like this couch!” She smiles, taking in the overstuffed gray couch with navy pillows, wide and long enough for his superhero sized figure.
He sighs, taking her left hand in his and tracing over the tops of her fingers. “You know, one day I plan to have the perfect ring for this finger,” he whispers quietly, chills running through him at finally saying it out loud to her, considering he’d already talked to his mother and brother about it, her father and her five-year-old nephew. Ok, so maybe it’s not so secret.
Emery settles back against him, dropping her head back onto his shoulder, exposing her neck to him and he kisses along her neck. He can feel her pulse racing. She misses the scratchy feel of his beard but she sighs contentedly. “I know; I think you’ve talked about it to everyone but me.” He can hear the smile in her voice, although he can’t see her. “Your mom, Scott, Dawson… Just so you know, five year olds don’t keep secrets very well,” she chuckles.
“Damn kid, see if we ask him to be in the wedding,” Chris chuckles. He is pleased to hear she doesn’t know he also talked to her father at Christmas, asking the man’s permission to marry his lovely daughter.
Emery twists her body on the couch so she can face him, tucking her feet up under her. If they are having this conversation, she wants to be able to see his beautiful face. Her heart drops. Shit! I am in my school t-shirt; I do not want him to propose while I am wearing my work clothes
“Relax. I’m not asking you any time soon,” he laughs again, reading the horrified expression on her face, but knowing it has nothing to do with the idea of a proposal, but the fact she’s been traveling for hours, still in her Friday teaching clothes. He thinks she looks beautiful now, but he knows she’ll want to look her best when the time to pop the question finally arrives. “But I need you to know I want to marry you. I want to have kids with you and grow old with you. And if you don’t like this house, you need to tell me.”
She traces her finger tips along his exposed jaw, thinking about how to answer his query, forgetting how formidable it looks when he is shaved. She remembers Joss Whedon’s commentary, and shakes her head thinking ‘it’s so true; he’s the hero.’
“It’s not that I don’t like the house; it just doesn’t seem… Cozy. It’s too perfect, too Hollywood. Chris, I really don’t picture us living here; I mean I guess I never even thought of wanting to live here in LA.”
Chris fidgets with the chain on her bracelet, her warm palm against his chest, his head down. Totally leaving LA probably isn’t an option, but he agrees that LA really isn’t the place to raise a family. The paparazzi photos from the other night prove that in spades. “I saw some resumes for Boston schools last time I was home. Were you gonna tell me?”
Home. He called my tiny house ‘home.’ Her stomach fills with butterflies, realizing for the first time how serious this conversation is becoming. We’re starting to plan our lives together. She tries to keep her tone light, ignoring the anticipation rolling through her body. She chuckles, “Yea, I guessed you saw those. The desk was a mess when I went looking for stuff later but I love my shelf!” He nods his thanks to her compliment, remembering how proud he was of putting together that damn shelf. Chris runs his strong hands over her delicate arms, watching goosebumps form at his touch. His eyes catch the rise and fall of her breasts, indicating her rapidly beating heart.
“Did you send any of them in?” he inquires, curious as to where this conversation is actually going.
She shakes her head no. “I decided not to change anything in my life until you make a decision; till you put a ring on it,” she laughs, fighting to keep her tone even. She hates the way it sounds but she knows it’s true. He has to be sure about what he wants before she can really think about making changes to her life.
Chris pauses at this. Emery is so head strong and independent; he can’t imagine her just sitting back to wait for anyone to make such an important decision that could affect her life as well. “Why are you waiting on me?”
“You would be changing your life more than I would be changing mine, I guess? Your anxiety is higher, you have a lot to worry about with work and a lot of people who depend on you. You’ve gotta be willing to give up your playboy lifestyle. I’m along for the ride? Sounds shitty, but it’s true. My clock isn’t ticking yet, and I don’t feel a rush. But I know I want to be with you; you are the only one I could spend my life with. Besides, what’s the point of me getting a job in Boston if you’re going to be filming in Atlanta next fall anyway? I could stay, keep my job, and you’d be just a few hours away. Savannah could be our home base for a while. But if we do decide to go to Boston, Carly and Ryan have already told me they could get me a job easily, or I could work at the theatre with your Mom.”
Chris is quiet for a while, surprised many of her ideas have been the same as his. He tries to put into words the thoughts that have filled his sleep deprived nights. “Hmmm… Staying in Georgia? I do film there a lot, and if I’m directing, we could arrange to work there because of the good tax base… I like that we’d be close to your family, and you wouldn’t have to leave your life behind, just to accommodate mine.”
Happy tears sting at Emery’s eyes. “Honey, that’s really sweet of you, but I think Boston is eventually home. I’ve said it before, and I mean it- Boston is like a drug in your veins, and you need it to live.”
Chris is overcome with emotion at the sacrifices she would make for him, leaving her job, leaving her family. For him. He leans to her and softly touches his lips to hers. “Not anymore. I need you,” he whispers against her ripe red lips. “Home is wherever you are.”
Part Two: At Last
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