by Reber, Tina
“Okay. Then as soon as I’m done reading this I’ll paint all your walls a lovely bright green and we can play with the CGI on your computer. How does that sound?”
“You better get reading then!” I stood up to excuse myself. He startled me when he stood up too.
“I have to get back to the pub and finish up the night; we’re getting slammed down there. I even have Tammy helping out tonight. So are you going to be okay up here by yourself?”
He walked over to me and rubbed my arms up and down softly with his hands. “Don’t worry about me.”
“I feel really bad leaving you here like this,” I uttered sadly, melting like butter under his touch.
“Tar, I know you have a business to run. I’m just glad that… well… I’m here. I’ll be fine!” he stressed. “I have excellent music to listen to and a fat script to read. That will definitely keep me out of trouble for a while.” He winked at me.
I looked down at his feet. In all honesty I really wanted to stay with him. “I still feel terrible though.”
Ryan’s hand slid down my arm and he brushed his fingers on mine; his other hand lifted my chin until our eyes met.
“Don’t. I’m looking forward to some peace and rest, actually. I’ll see you when you get back.”
I felt the jolt of electricity surge through my body when he touched me; I had to fight the new desires rapidly building in my heart.
“All right. I’ll see you in three hours,” I sighed.
“Before you go, I’d like your cell phone please,” he requested, holding out his hand. “I’m not going to check up on you. I just want to program it a little.”
“I don’t care. I have nothing to hide,” I said. I pulled my cell out of my pocket and handed it to him. “Just don’t give me an obnoxious ringtone.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care if it. Now off you go! Back to work!” He took a hold of my shoulders and spun me towards the door.
I was glad we were busy tonight; it made the three hours go by fairly quickly, although I wished the band would have hurried more when they packed their instruments up.
I was so excited to finally lock the doors and get back upstairs to my very incredible guest that I ran up the steps to my apartment.
Ryan was lying on the couch, peacefully asleep. His long legs were stretched out and his bare feet hung off the edge. I was surprised to see he was wearing wire rimmed glasses. He looked very studious and handsome.
I slowly removed the thick script that rested on his chest from underneath his folded hands and set it on the coffee table. He was so sound asleep that the motion didn’t even make him stir. I grabbed the quilt that my grandmother made off the back of the loveseat and covered him up.
I noticed his tawny hair was still damp and unkempt from sleeping. I sat down on the wooden coffee table and took the sight of him into my memory. His lips were slightly parted as he breathed in his slumber and I hoped he was having peaceful dreams.
Goodnight Sweet Prince, I thought to myself, taking one last look at him before I turned out the lights and headed for bed.
It was still dark in my bedroom when I woke, suddenly startled. I felt my bed jostle as Ryan carefully slid his body underneath my blankets.
Without saying a word, he snuggled up behind me and made himself comfortable on the spare pillow. I leaned back slightly to acknowledge him, resting my body on his chest. He curled up tighter behind me; I could feel that he was still fully dressed.
Ryan’s hand skimmed down my arm. Very slowly, he slid his open hand on top of mine, lacing our fingers together. He let out a soft sigh when I closed my fingers around his.
For how hard I tried to protect myself from getting hurt, it felt so right to lie here with him. Our bodies nested together perfectly - like we were made for each other. It was apparent that he was just as affected by me as I was by him.
The sun started to rise and soft light filled my bedroom. I felt his arm pull me closer to his chest; his warm breath caressed my shoulder as he snuggled with me. His breathing returned to the sound of sleep, so I let myself drift back to my incredible dream.
I woke again when I felt him stir. His fingers flexed, gripping my hip. His fingertips circled to feel what I was wearing. His legs stretched and he lightly pressed himself into me when his brain received the message that I was only wearing panties and a T-shirt.
Dizzying arousal shot through my body from his touch. My mind quickly wandered with other visions of how his steely hands could grip my hips. New cravings for him were growing rapidly in my thoughts.
“Good morning,” he whispered in my ear, sliding his hand across my stomach.
“Mmm, hi!” was all I could say as our eyes met. He grinned at me and gently swept my hair off my forehead with his fingertips.
“Sorry I fell asleep on you last night. Why didn’t you wake me when you got back?” He yawned.
“You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to wake you.”
He smiled that sexy grin at me – the one that makes my pulse race – while his fingers drifted over my skin and caressed my face.
The desire to lean into him and press my lips to his was so strong, and I didn’t have the internal strength to fight it anymore. He appeared to be fighting the same urges, but that was a threshold of intimacy that he didn’t cross.
I rolled over to face him and nestled my cheek on his shoulder; my hands palmed his chest. I just wanted to touch him somehow, some way. He wrapped his arm over my shoulder so his hand could hold my head to his chest. My life would be perfect if I could wake up every day to this feeling.
After I was showered and dressed, I joined him in the kitchen. He was leaning against the counter with a coffee cup in his hand - another mental picture I committed to memory. His face lit up when I walked into the room; his reaction caught me off-guard. Why is he so happy to see me? Me?
Ryan looked so casual, standing there in a very familiar dark blue T-shirt, his jeans with the worn pockets hanging a bit on his hips. He hadn’t put on any socks or shoes yet; his bare feet were holding him confidently in place. I never realized that seeing a man drinking a cup of coffee in my kitchen could be such a turn-on.
“Hey there,” he greeted me. His face flashed a big grin; his eyes looked me over. “I hope you don’t mind but I made some coffee. Can I pour you a cup?”
“Yes, that would be very nice.” I opened up the refrigerator to get the milk.
“Here, let me get that,” he said as he took the container from my hand.
I reached back into the refrigerator for the carton of eggs. I was hungry; I figured he must be hungry too.
“Can I make you some breakfast?” I asked.
He smiled and nodded. “Breakfast sounds great.”
The way we flowed together in the room was bizarre. I’ve never felt so at peace with a man before in my life. Though we had only known each other for a short time it felt like we had known each other all our lives. There was no stress or awkwardness between us. I think he felt it too.
“What’s on your schedule today?” I asked while buttering a piece of toast for him. His life seemed to be segmented by one appointment after another and I highly doubted that he had much free time left today.
“I have to be back on set at ten.” His eyes flickered up to meet mine.
I gave him a brief smile. I didn’t want him to think that his schedule would upset me.
We discussed how to transfer him from my apartment to the set, as it wasn’t simple or easy to get him from one place to another secretly. The plan was that I would drive him halfway to someplace obscure where he could transfer to a waiting car that would drive him to the set. His safety and my anonymity were the top priorities.
Since our time was limited, we hung out in my living room.
I saw his face brighten when he picked up my acoustic guitar that was propped up on a stand in the corner. He placed the guitar on his knee and gave it a quick strum. He surprised me by playing pretty well
.
“I saw this on Monday when I was here but I didn’t get a chance to ask you. Do you play or is this just a decoration?” he wondered, looking at me over his shoulder.
“No, I play,” I answered confidently, although I was far from a master at it. “I know a few songs. Sometimes I try to write my own music when the mood hits, but I’m not that good of a songwriter,” I admitted.
He handed the guitar to me and gave me an encouraging nod. “Play something for me.”
My heart rate picked up instantly as my nerves got the better of me. I felt the pang of horror hit as I imagined making a total fool out of myself.
“Okay, no laughing! Promise!”
“I’d never laugh at you.” He crossed his heart with his fingers. “I promise.”
“All right, let’s see if you can name this tune.” I played the first few notes.
“Easy! Pink Floyd,” he said with a smile. “Wish You Were Here.”
I laughed when he made up his own lyrics. “No, that’s not what he says!” I gave him a teasing tap in the foot. I started the song over. Soon we were both singing together. “We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl…”
When I finished, he slipped the guitar out of my hand and waved his fingers for my guitar pick. He gave me a quick wink and a grin and played a few chords.
“This is something I wrote,” he said nonchalantly, adjusting the guitar on his leg. He started to play a beautiful melody. His song was intense; the lyrics resonated in my heart. While he sang his song to me I felt myself falling deeper and deeper for him.
I stared at him in awe as he let himself slip into his music. My mind wandered into forbidden territory as I entertained illicit thoughts of tearing the guitar from his hands and climbing onto him to kiss him passionately. How his strong hands could hold my hips in place on his lap. How his tongue might feel on mine. I felt myself becoming extremely aroused just by thinking about it.
“What did you think?” he asked when he finished his song. The truth was that I was tingling in places where I hadn’t tingled in a long time.
“It was… mesmerizing. I loved it!”
A wide grin broke on his face.
While he returned my guitar to its stand, I took off for the solace of my bathroom. I locked the door behind me and leaned hard on the counter.
I had to get a grip on my emotions. He was too unreal. It would be so easy to fall madly, insanely, deeply in love with this man, and every second I spent with him was dragging me towards that point of no return. My heart was racing, the blood throbbed in my veins, and I felt slightly dizzy. Breathe Taryn. Don’t do this to yourself! Stop it! When he leaves Seaport, you’ll never hear from him again.
I fought the internal war that was battling in my mind – do I allow myself to be carried away - to surrender completely and allow whatever happens to happen or do I end it all now and avoid the devastating heartbreak that was likely and inevitable? I knew that I would be completely incapable of having a casual fling with him, so that option was out. Even though I could not resolve my dilemma now, I knew that sooner or later I’d have to make a choice.
When I returned to him, he was gathering his things together and it was time for us to go. I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted to grab his hand and drag him back to my bedroom. My desire for him was leading the war.
But he had to go. He had obligations. Reluctantly, I grabbed my car keys and we headed for the door.
Ryan managed to hop from the back door into my waiting car unnoticed. We didn’t talk very much on the way to meet his driver. I think he was too intrigued with how our secret exchange would turn out to hold any conversations. And my internal skirmish was still battling in my brain.
We met his driver in the empty rear parking lot belonging to one of the local textile manufacturers, where it would be difficult for anyone to see or hide to take photos. From there his driver would take him to the location where they would be filming today.
He turned to me to say his departing words. His fingers reached out to touch my face and he thanked me for a wonderful morning.
“I’ll call you later, okay?” he said as he pulled his hand away.
I smiled and nodded. It was the only response my confused brain was capable of.
He slipped out of my car and quickly hopped into the open door of the car that waited. All I could do was wave goodbye.
By the time I returned home, Pete was already there, busy unloading boxes from the van.
“I put all the steaks in the refrigerator and the liquor delivery is in the back,” Pete informed.
I stepped behind the bar to put the cash drawer in the register.
“Oh and Tammy’s got the rest of the catering under control. We got everything on the list, so we’re good to go for the party tomorrow.”
“Thanks Pete. You and Tammy are the best! Did I give you enough money or do I still owe you?”
“The shrimp cost more than we figured but we still came in under budget. I think there was about $40 left.”
“Just keep it. Gas costs money too. I’m just thankful I have friends like you two.” I flashed him a big smile.
“So, what’s up with you?” Pete asked.
I didn’t know what to say or how to explain my mood.
“Hey, what’s going on?” He came around to the back of the bar when I looked away. “I know you’ve been… in a different situation lately. You want to talk about it?”
When I looked him in the eye, I couldn’t lie - completely. Pete was the closest thing I had to a brother in this world, and he knew me well enough to know something was wrong.
“I’m falling for him, Pete. I can’t help it anymore. I tried to just be friends,” I said. “But I want him. I’ve never wanted a man more, and now I’m worried that I’m just setting myself up for the biggest heartbreak of my life.”
Pete wrapped me in his big bear hug. “You know, when Thomas pulled that crap on you, I wanted to kill him. You’re too good of a person to accept anything less than the best in life. You deserve to be happy, Taryn! Not every guy is like Thomas. Granted, Ryan is, well... still he seems like a hell of a nice guy.”
I knew Pete didn’t want to say the words “famous” or “celebrity.” I took a step back from him. Words like “celebrity” equaled “unobtainable” in my mind.
“You just have to give the poor guy a chance first. But sometimes you can also be your own worst enemy,” Pete scolded. “If you never take chances, then of course you won’t get hurt. But that’s what life is all about, kiddo. Living through the good and bad, and – with any luck – having battle scars that heal.”
“Pete, he’s leaving in a couple of weeks. He is not going to stick around here.” I sighed heavily from the one thought that brought me the most pain. “What am I supposed to do? Put my heart out there on the silver platter again and give it all away? How convenient that all the guys I seem to fall for own sharp knives.”
Just then my phone vibrated in my pocket, startling me.
“Speaking of sharp knives.”
‘1 new message’ flashed on the screen. I read Ryan’s text message and laughed to myself.
“I need duct tape”
“For what?” I texted back.
“Bb is throwing hissy fit again she hates her costume today”
I frowned and quickly typed: “can't u lock her in a trailer?”
“I wish”
“Is she coming tomorrow?” I asked.
“Yes sorry btw I slept great last night best night sleep in a long time”
My fingers quickly typed: “Liar”
“Truth!” popped up on my display. I smiled at his reply.
“Cu tomorrow at 5?” I replied.
“U can c me tonight if u want?”
I couldn’t text him back. I wanted to see him so bad but the self-preservation portions of my heart and brain were screaming NO at me.
If I say, “sure, come on over and hop in my bed again” – would he deem
me easy?
If I say, “no, because I really want a relationship and not a one-night stand” – would he move on?
Why am I mentally torturing myself? Remember Taryn, he’s going to be swirling out of your town and out of your life in a few weeks.
Just because he is popular and well known, does that make him exempt from having to win my heart? Well, that’s silly. He cracks my will every time he is in the same room with me, so he really doesn’t have to try too hard to win my affection.
Maybe one day when I’m old and gray I can tell my story of how I had unbelievably insane sex with a movie star once? That would be something to tell the grandkids.
Maybe my name could be a sub-text blurb under his name on some Ryan Christensen website. October – slept with foolish girl in Rhode Island before he met his movie star wife and went on to have blue-eyed babies with her.
I used to see everything so black or white. Once I made a decision, I stuck by it. But since this man entered my life, my whole being has been disrupted and blurred in shades of gray-tinted what-if’s.
One thing was for sure: if I give in to him, I would want him again and again. There would not be a way to survive a one-time encounter with him. Ryan’s foot touching my foot was enough of a gesture to make me want him. And when he held me this morning, his fingers twined with mine, his body pressed against me, making love to him was all I could think of.
“Taryn, are you okay?” Marie’s voice snapped me back into the room. “Why are you sitting in the corner? Are you sick?”
“Just mentally torturing myself,” I muttered.
“Oh, I see. And how’s that going for ya?” she asked, cracking a grin at me.
“Not good. The angel and the devil are debating on whether I should cave or stand my ground.”
“Finally! It took you long enough!” she said excitedly. “And?”
I shrugged.
“You know what I think? I think you should stop all this nonsense and screw the shit out of him until he passes out from exhaustion. And when he wakes up, wash him and then screw the daylights out of him again!” She was beaming at me.
“You’ll have to feed him, of course, to keep his energy level up, but make sure you hide his clothes so he can’t get dressed. Men can’t run when they’re naked.”