Текст книги "Love Unscripted"
Автор книги: Tina Reber
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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 40 страниц)
“Or hurled into the back seat of cars,” I added.
He looked over at me quickly. “Hurled?”
“I saw you on television once. You were getting carried through a crowd by a few big security guys. It looked like they just tossed you into the
car.”“
When was that?” he asked.
“When you were in L.A. a couple of weeks ago. I panicked when I saw how they man-handled you.”
I felt his hand squeeze mine tighter. “Your car was completely surrounded by screaming fans; they were pounding on your windows. I worried for
a moment that they were going to break through the glass. That was the night when you first called me, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” He raised my hand to his lips. “And that was the night you calmed me down. I remember crawling under the blankets to talk to you.”
“I remember wishing that you weren’t on the other side of the country,” I whispered.
“Guess we both got our wish.” He grinned.
He turned onto Mulberry Street; we were only a block away and I had my cell phone in hand, ready to call the police. Parked across the street
from the pub were some SUVs, a van, and a few cars. There were a few photographers on the sidewalk, but not a large crowd like I had feared.
Ryan looked up and down the street. “Ready to make a run for it?”
I was relieved to see my parking spot free of love notes and trash. “Make sure you pay Jason well,” I requested quietly.
Ryan kept me on the inside of his arm, close to the buildings instead of the street. We sprint-walked down the sidewalk. It didn’t take long for the
paparazzi to wake up and start clicking.
A few photographers jumped out of the vans, clicking their cameras fiercely. I just focused on the lines on the sidewalk and the distance from my
feet to the door.
For one second I let my eyes glance up further to check for danger; that’s when I noticed the curly-haired, gap-toothed girl running towards us.
She had things in her hands, no doubt a picture or two for him to sign.
I thought it peculiar; all girls travel in packs. You would rarely see a girl without a fellow girlfriend tagging along… just like Suzanne and
Francesca. But this girl seemed to be alone.
People were yelling “Ryan, Ryan” and even a few times yelled “Ms. Mitchell” or “Taryn” to get me to look, but I copied Ryan’s stance and kept my
focus on getting to the door. Some of the photographers were trying to be nice, asking us if we enjoyed our evening. Ryan didn’t answer. He tucked
his chin down to his chest and I felt his grip on my waist get tighter. I had my key ready in my right hand.
The curly-haired girl reached us before we got to my door. She almost lunged at Ryan, and I gasped at her forward behavior. He instinctively
raised his right arm to block her and he turned his body in my direction. I could feel his panic level matching mine.
“Whoa, whoa!” he cautioned her.
She started babbling about how much she loves his movies and his acting abilities. He graciously slipped the marker out of her hand and
scribbled his autograph inside her book, trying to be cordial. A few other annoying men and women stepped up to get autographs too, and Ryan
signed his name as quickly as he could.
I grimaced as I stuck my key in the door; I hoped that their pathetic day was complete now that they disturbed him and got his signature on a
picture. I twisted the key in the lock and grabbed the sleeve of his jacket with my other hand, pulling him through my doorway.
We walked up my apartment steps in silence; both of us slightly traumatized from the rush that followed a simple act of just coming home from a
nice dinner with friends. I only turned on one light in my living room; I could imagine all the people down on the sidewalk staring up at my windows,
analyzing the shadows in my apartment. I wonder if these shades are opaque enough? Do I need heavy curtains too?
I hung my coat up in the closet and picked his coat up to hang it up too.
“Babe, do you have your phone or is it in your coat?” I patted his pockets to feel for it. He was staring off at one of the closed windows, deep in
thought. My words pulled his attention back to me. I smiled at him, but his mind was a million miles away.
I went into the kitchen and pulled a bottle out of the wine fridge; a two-year-old bottle of ice wine – my favorite. I poured two glasses; I figured he
could use a nightcap and I wanted him to try one of the wines from our vineyards. He was sitting in the single chair in the living room; his head was
in his hands.
I crouched down in front of him, drawing his eyes to look at me. “Hey, are you okay?” I handed the glass to him.
“I guess I’m just tired,” he murmured. I didn’t buy it. He was troubled again, and I was wise enough now to know why. Several ideas of how to
distract him danced through my mind.
I hurried down the hallway with my newly formed plan. I would need a few things and a few minutes alone. After taking a thorough moment to
freshen up in the bathroom, I locked my bedroom door and changed my clothes.
This will take his mind off his worries, I thought to myself as a buckled the dainty leather strap attached to my shoes around my ankle. Once I
was complete, I made my approach down the dark hallway, stopping just where the light met the darkness. Ryan looked up and gasped.
“You like?” I asked, turning slightly for him to get a new view of the alluring black undergarments I was barely wearing.
He sprang out of the chair like someone set him on fire and crossed the distance between us in three strides. I combed his hair back with my
fingers and softly bit his earlobe in my teeth.
“Want to go violate me on a pool table?” I whispered in his ear before pulling his lips to mine.
The sound of people yelling at each other startled me from my sleep. My head jumped off my pillow as my eyes tried to focus in the morning light.
“Huh, what’s wrong?” Ryan mumbled, still mostly asleep.
I suppose I woke him when I flinched. I heard truck brakes squeal and doors slam; the noises were coming from the alley.
I crept over to the window on my tippy-toes; the wood floor was cold. Outside, there were several men with cameras arguing with the driver of
one of the delivery trucks, but I couldn’t see the entire alley from this angle as part of the fire escape was in the way. I pulled the blind back another
half inch to get a better view.
“Honey, put some clothes on first if you’re going to peek out the windows,” Ryan muttered. He was rubbing his eyes with his fingers.
I grabbed one of his T-shirts from his open bag that was on the floor and slipped it over my head. The cotton held his scent, and although I liked
his manly smell, this shirt desperately needed to be washed.
“What’s happening out there?” he asked. I was still trying to figure it out.
“There are a few photographers arguing with a delivery truck driver.” I observed arms being raised over heads; it seemed that the alleyway
discussion was getting heated. “There are cars parked in the alley; I guess the truck can’t get through. They can’t park there.”
It was apparent that the paparazzi were camping out by my doors, waiting for any sign of Ryan Christensen. I thought about calling the police but
I didn’t need to; a cruiser just turned down the alley.
“The cops are here,” I muttered. Two police officers exited the car and I noticed that they both had their hands hovering over their guns. Arms
continued to wave in the air as both parties argued their sides to the cops. “I guess the paparazzi can’t read the ‘No Parking’ signs.”
“Arrest them all!” Ryan boomed, curling his hand underneath his face on the pillow.
His comment made me smile.
“Baby, come back to bed,” he whined.
I looked at him then looked at the doorway; might as well hit the bathroom while I’m up. He saw my hesitation and decided to race me. If he
hadn’t bumped me into the hallway wall I would have won, but he let me go ahead of him anyway. While I made a pot of coffee, I heard the shower
turn on.
I pulled the shower curtain back far enough to get a view. We had no boundaries anymore. I watched the water and soap bubbles glide down his
body. Damn, he was hot.
“You want to join me?” he asked, scrubbing the shampoo in his hair.
I thought about it for a minute. Even though we both fit in the tub, one person was always left in the cold end of the shower and I wanted to spend
some extra time primping.
“I’ll wait until you’re finished.”
He held out his hand. “I can’t wait that long. Get in here.”
I stepped over the edge of the tub.
“It would probably be better if there were two shower heads in here, huh?” he asked as if he could read my mind. I nodded in agreement.
“When were you planning on starting the bathroom remodel?”
I hadn’t really thought about it until he asked. “I don’t know. I need to finish the design first. I only have rough sketches.”
“The hotel I stayed in when I was out in L.A had a huge tiled shower. It even had a power console for all the features.” He motioned down the wall
with his hand. “I’ve never seen a shower so complicated. There were jets in the walls, removable shower wands, and a big shower head in the
center.”
“It probably had a steam setting too,” I added.
“So what do you think of that idea though?”
“Sounds expensive. I don’t think I could afford that,” I muttered, rubbing my hands across his soapy chest. “Besides, there’s not enough square
footage in this bathroom to hold that large of a shower.”
“I wish you would stop worrying about stuff like that.” His warm eyes glistened as he looked at me. “And I’m not talking about putting something
like that in this bathroom.”
His hand reached out and grabbed my butt, pulling me towards him. He slipped his fingers over my neck and placed a lingering, persuasive
kiss on my lips. I think I got the message he tried to convey, but I still was not going to make any assumptions.
“Do you have any idea how incredibly sexy you are?” he asked me. I groaned softly at his flattering remark.
“That’s funny… I was thinking the same exact thing about you.”
His lips frowned down and he rolled his eyes.
“See, you feel the same way about those kinds of compliments.” I poured shampoo in my hand.
“By the way, thank you for last night.” He smirked. “I guess I need to apologize for tearing your panties to shreds. I don’t know what came over
me.”
I smiled, remembering fondly his exuberance when he ripped the small seam on my sheer underwear and ran his palm up my spine to bend me
over the pool table.
“I’ll give you my card so you can replace them,” he murmured.
“That’s okay. You don’t have to do that; I have more. Don’t worry about it.” I was concentrating extra hard on not cutting my leg with the razor.
“Why are you so damn opposed to letting me buy you things?”
I shrugged, wishing he’d drop it.
“I’m not used to having someone want to buy me things, Ryan. I never really had that in other relationships. I always had to take care of myself.”
In actuality it was always me who was the one who gave things to the boy instead of the other way around. All of the boyfriends I had in the past
were barely getting by on their own let alone have enough money to buy gifts for me.
“Well, I’m not like that, Taryn!” I knew he was generous and meant well.
“Ryan, I have never been nor will I ever be the type of woman who expects things or takes advantage of people. If you want to buy me
something, I can’t stop you. But I don’t expect you to either. And I’m certainly not going to take your credit card and go on a shopping spree.”
“Then answer this; why did you pay Tammy and Pete for the catering? Do you think I’m the type of person who wants to take advantage of you?”
His tone was definitely leaning towards anger.
I was starting to wonder if this was our first argument… over money of all things. I found myself becoming frustrated with the whole topic.
“Maybe I want to take care of you just as much as you want to take care of me. Did you ever think of that? Why did you buy me diamond
earrings and a necklace? It’s the same question.”
I turned the water off and he handed a towel to me.
“I got you those things because I wanted to. I was in a jewelry store and you were the only person I was thinking of.” His tone was soft and quiet.
“And I paid Tammy because I wanted to treat you to a nice dinner party with all of our friends. You were the only person I was thinking about.”
“Then why won’t you accept the earrings, if it’s my way of taking care of you?”
“Because they were expensive and unnecessary. I told you, there’s only one gift I hope to have from you.” I placed my fingers on his chest. “And
if you’re unsure of what that is, it’s right underneath my hand.”
“You already have that,” he whispered.
“Then I have everything I need!” I rose up on my toes to kiss him.
I dried my hair in the bathroom and assumed he’d still be in the bedroom, but he wasn’t there. I found him in the kitchen; he was digging in the
refrigerator still wearing a towel.
“Are pants optional today?” I teased, wondering if he wanted to spend the day in bed again. I took two coffee cups out of the cabinet and
poured a cup for each of us.
He smiled innocently. “I’m actually out of clean clothes. Do you think I can use your washer?”
Ryan dumped his entire bag, minus his suit, into my washing machine. Typical guy – not bothering to separate whites and darks. I pulled
everything back out of the washer and made two piles.
“I wish I had the rest of my clothes from the hotel; that all needs to be washed too.”
“Can anyone pick it up for you?” I asked.
Three phone calls later, he made arrangements with Jason and the hotel to retrieve his things. Jason was going to deliver his bags, but not for a
couple of hours. I was looking forward to seeing Jason to thank him for cleaning up my parking space.
I went into the spare room to see if I could find something for him to wear; I knew I still had a few boxes of my dad’s clothing that I hadn’t gotten
around to taking to the Goodwill. Ryan followed me as I hunted.
“There’s some sweatpants in this box. Everything is clean.”
He checked the tag on a gray pair of sweat pants and slipped them on. My father was just a little bigger than Ryan, but not by much. I found
some cotton shirts in another box.
I tossed a black T-shirt to him.
“All this was your dad’s?”
I nodded and moved a box away from my collection of stained glass. I didn’t want the box to fall and break anything.
“This is as soft as that blue shirt you gave me. Fits too! Are you getting rid of all this stuff?”
“I was going to donate it. You’re welcome to take anything you want.”
“Are you sure? You don’t mind?”
“No, I don’t mind.” I smiled. Ryan’s presence made the loss of my father a lot more bearable.
“Cool! My clothes seem to keep disappearing from the hotel. I’m wondering if Jason is even going to find anything left to bring over here.”
I laughed. “I heard about that! Guess someone is selling your stuff on the Internet, eh?”
He smirked at me. “That’s why I don’t bother buying a lot of expensive stuff. Every time I stay at a hotel, my clothes go missing.”
He had made a small pile of clothing that he apparently wanted to have. I was slightly surprised that he wasn’t opposed to wearing hand-medowns.
Even though he was a famous celebrity, he certainly didn’t act like one. That was one more trait about him that I adored.
While he was still rummaging through the T-shirt box, I paged through one of my stained glass books. I thought since he invited me to his
mother’s birthday dinner that I might make her a gift. I didn’t want to go empty handed; I wasn’t raised that way.
“Does your mom like stained glass?” I found a nice picture frame that I could make for her.
“I guess.” He was still busy digging in another large box of stuff. “Cool! Thermal shirts. Taryn, this one still has tags on it.” He put it on his pile.
“Why do you ask?”
“I think I’m going to make her something for her birthday. Do you think she might like this?” I showed him the picture.
“That’s really nice. But you don’t have to do that. I already got her a present. It can be from both of us.” My heart skipped another beat when he
said the word ‘us’ again.
“Thanks, but that’s from you. I was thinking that I’d like to give her something personal from me.”
I selected a piece of textured, clear glass and held it up to the light.
I sat down at my table with the pattern and began to trace out the different sized rectangular shapes I would need while Ryan was still digging in
the boxes of clothes. I grabbed my glass cutter and began to cut along the lines I traced.
“That looks like fun. Can I try?” he asked hesitantly, but I could hear the desire in his voice. I couldn’t help but grin at him. None of my past
boyfriends ever took an interest into watching me work – Ryan was a first.
“Sure! Have a seat.” I held his hand on top of the cutter and guided his hand until he had a feel for the amount of pressure he needed to apply.
“How am I doing?” he asked, concentrated on cutting the glass.
“You’re doing great! Just cut it past the line a little further so that the creases overlap, that will make for a cleaner break.”
“Job well done, Mr. Christensen!” I complemented him when he finished. “Next step, the grinder.”
“Ooh... the grinder,” he said with a low, sexy voice. “Kind of sounds like what you did to me last night!”
“Maybe if you ask nicely I’ll do the same to you later tonight.” I gave the front of his sweatpants a little toss.
“You are my most favorite person in the whole wide world. You know that, right?”
“Here put these safety goggles on!” I giggled. “Pieces of glass will fly all over; you have to protect your eyes.”
“This is just like high school shop class,” he chuckled, slipping the less than attractive glasses on his face.
I turned the grinder on and this time he stayed behind me with his hand on top of mine, gliding each piece around the bit until it was smooth.
I was trying my best to concentrate on smoothing the sharp edges of the glass in my hand, but he was making it quite difficult with his lips so
close to my ear.
I stopped after grinding a few pieces. “You want to give it a try on your own?”
“You trust me with your power tools?”
“It’s either the grinder or foiling the edges.” I pointed. “Take your pick.”
“Man!” He patted his chest. “Man use power tool. Man get more coffee first.” He turned the machine off. “Woman want more coffee too?”
“Woman get man breakfast,” I laughed, grabbing the back of his sweats to expose his bare bottom.
I took a bite of my bagel and watched as he stood at the grinder.
“Are you having fun over there?” I asked.
He looked back at me and smiled. “Yeah, I am! This is pretty cool! I’m in the zone!”
Once all the pieces were foiled, I laid out the pattern and handed him the flux.
Have you ever soldered before?” I asked.
“Yeah, but not like that.” He nodded at my work.
“Here, like this.” I showed him what I needed him to do. I started soldering the pieces together.
“Give it a try.” I let him have my seat. Surprisingly he did a great job. Within two hours our work of art was complete.
He held the frame up towards the light. “My mom’s going to love this!”
I walked off to the bedroom to get changed, since Jason would be delivering Ryan’s bags soon and I was barely dressed. I slipped on a pair of
jeans, layered on another shirt, and headed back to the living room.
Ryan was leaning on the wall by the front windows with a cup of coffee in his hand, peering down to the street. His face was troubled again.
I stepped next to him to see what he was looking at, but he blocked me with his chest.
“Don’t,” he murmured. “No sense in both of us being upset.”
I looked him in the eyes; my expression pleading, hoping he’d explain further. His lips pursed together and he muttered one word. “Fans.”
“How many?”
“Lots.”
I took his free hand in mine. “Come on, I’ll make you some lunch.” I led him to the kitchen.
I made sandwiches and we sat quietly at the little wooden kitchen table. I knew he was completely absorbed in thinking about the crowd outside.
He wore his emotions on his sleeve and they were easy to read. He barely ate anything.
“What is it about the fans that upsets you so much?” I rubbed the top of his hand.
He looked away in disgust. He spent almost a whole minute shaking his head, breathing hard, and rubbing his hand across his forehead. Finally
he looked me in the eyes.
“They absolutely terrify me,” he whispered.
I squeezed his hand in reassurance.
“I have this horrible feeling like one of them is just going to go too far one day. Some of their behavior borders on the delusional. They scream at
me… they say that they love me.” He looked at his plate and sighed. “How can they even say that?”
I put my cup down on the table. I wanted him to finally let it out and I wasn’t going to be distracted by anything.
“So I made a stupid movie once. Big deal! Thousands of actors make movies every damn day! I’m a person, just like any other guy.” He paused
to scratch his eyebrows.
“I am followed everywhere I go. Everything I do is scrutinized to the nth degree. And then I have to deal with that?” He waved towards the front of
my apartment.
“What do they expect? Are they waiting down there for me to pick one of them out of the crowd? Now serving number 48? Do these women
actually think that if they stand on your sidewalk long enough they might get a date with me? It’s psychotic!
“I had to have my cell number changed so many times I can’t count anymore. These girls leave notes and letters on everything – my car, the front
steps to the hotel, your car… you name it. For what? Does Mindy or Cindy think that just because they wrote on a piece of paper that they’re the
perfect woman for me I’d be inclined to call them? What is wrong with all of them?
“You saw how many notes covered your car yesterday. For the sake of argument, let’s say that there were forty separate notes. That means
there are forty women out there who are deluded enough to think that their sparkle paper is going to attract me to call them!”
I saw his lip tremble as other thoughts ran through his mind.
“Forty… compounded by the thousands; you saw how they just grabbed, putting their hands on me, trying to tear my clothes. Any one of them
capable of…” he huffed.
He placed his other hand on top of mine. “And now, what I fear most, is that I’ve involved you in the insanity. Rocks being thrown through your
windows… If anything ever happened to you I’d never forgive myself.” He choked on his last words. His eyes squeezed together and he tilted his
face towards the floor, sniffing.
I stood up immediately and reached my arms around his shoulders to hold him. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me to his lap.
I held his head to my chest and let him release his pain. I felt each one of his tears as they saturated my shirt.
I could only imagine how long he’d been holding it all in. How many months had he suffered in silence, hiding this misery from everyone,
including himself. Never wanting anyone to see how vulnerable they had made him.
I lightly rubbed his neck and shoulders while placing kisses on his forehead. I wanted nothing else in the world but to soothe him and take his
misery away.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “I’m here. I will never let them hurt you.”
His fingers pressed into my skin, clutching my shirt in his hands as he finally broke down from all the stress. Tears trickled down my cheeks too
from seeing how anguished he was.
I kissed his head and pulled him in tighter. We held onto each other while our fears and insecurities got the better of us. A new bond between us
formed instantly; a connection built on emotional support and trust.
He looked up at me; his eyes were puffy and red and filled with the remains of his sadness. I gently rubbed my thumbs under his eyes to wipe
away the last of the moisture. I gave him a soft kiss.
“Taryn Mitchell,” he said, looking me in the eyes. “I love you. With all my heart.”
I felt all the blood rush from my body and surge right into my chest. All this time I waited for a man to say those words to me and mean it, and
now I was hearing them from the one person I had hoped would say them.
I gazed into his eyes and said what was in my heart. It was as easy and natural as breathing.
“I love you too – more than anything in this world.”
Chapter 17 – Moved
I was still smiling when I trotted downstairs to let Jason in. Ryan waited deeper inside the pub to avoid being photographed when I opened the
front door. I kissed him one more time before leaving him standing near the edge of the bar.
It had been a good hour or so since Ryan spoke those three little words that made my heart sing, and I was still glowing. I didn’t care how bad
my face hurt from wearing this grin; I was completely, one-hundred and fifty percent in love with him.
Jason was surrounded by people as he waited for me to let him in. He had a friend with him – another boy who looked to be in his late teens,
with shaggy brown hair and a few blemishes on his face.
“Hey Jason,” Ryan's voice echoed mine. The boy had a garment bag slung over his shoulder and was wheeling a large suitcase behind him.
His friend had a large duffle bag hanging off his shoulder and was carrying a large box in his hands.
“Hey Ry!” Jason said, parking the suitcase and extending a hand to shake Ryan’s. “This is my friend, Shawn.”
“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Taryn,” Ryan said proudly, putting his arm around my shoulder.
We gathered up Ryan’s things and carried them upstairs. Ryan set his large suitcase on the bed and unzipped it. All his clothes were just
shoved into one big heap. I noticed the name on the luggage tag wasn’t Ryan’s – his tag read ‘Shell-B Enterprises’ with a Los Angeles address.
Ryan carried most of his stuff into the laundry room and then joined the two boys who were already making themselves at home on my furniture.
A few seconds later, Ryan came back into the bedroom. “I want to give them some money,” he told me. He kissed me quickly after returning his
wallet to the nightstand.
“Hey!” I called out, stopping him before he got too far. “I have that new video game system, if you guys want to play. It’s all in the large drawer
below the TV. There is a sports disc and a Ninja fighting game.”
Ryan’s face lit up with happiness.
I pulled the zipper open on his duffle bag and dumped it out on the bedroom floor. A moment of shock struck me when I saw the strip of
condoms and an empty condom wrapper mingled in his stuff. I picked up the empty wrapper – the inside was dry. Seven were still intact.
I ran over the facts that I had on him so far. One, he slept with Francesca, but that was over a year ago. Two, he was supposedly in a relationship
with a wanna-be actress he knew from Pittsburgh, but that was before the Francesca incident. Three, his last known girlfriend dumped him over the
summer; and Four, Kelly had said that Ryan was the opposite of what Suzanne had accused him of being. Ryan had said to me once that it had
been months. Months of what though? Not having sex? Not dating anyone?
I tried to remember the exact question I asked him while we were fishing – was he seeing someone. He said no, and to answer the question I
wasn’t asking – months. The question that remained in my mind was who was the lucky recipient of the used condom?
The front of his suitcase was lumpy, so I unzipped it and pulled out the contents. There were a few boarding pass stubs and luggage receipts
mixed in with some used napkins and empty gum wrappers. Mixed in that were a few pairs of dirty socks. I slid my hand back inside the large
pocket to make sure I had gotten everything when I felt my fingers bump into something stiff.
In my hand was an ordinary greeting card with the words “I Miss You” printed on the front above a picture of a setting sun. I opened the card;
inside was a picture of Ryan cuddling with an actress I recognized immediately, Lauren Delaney. Long, silky brown hair with a stunning face and
figure – it made me cringe to think he was with her once. Inside the card was a hand-written sentiment:
I stuck my hand back into the large pocket to see if there was an envelope, but the pocket was empty. I flipped the picture over; there was the
answer I was looking for – February 9th of this year. I laughed to myself from the irony; that was right around the same time I found Thomas in bed
with that girl.
I quickly shoved the card and picture back down in the pocket and stuffed the pieces of ticket stubs and paper remnants on top of it. Even
though I could hear him with Jason out in the living room, the last thing I wanted to do was get caught rummaging through his things.
I picked up the strip of condoms and shoved them back in his empty duffle bag.
That action led to another thought – every time Ryan made love to me, not once did he use protection. He never even attempted to put a condom
on – ever. He knew I was taking birth control pills, but yet he was still taking chances. He obviously used condoms before with other women – but
why not with me? Why was I different?
Our lovemaking had always been spontaneous and unrestricted, and we certainly didn’t hold a lot of conversations during our moments to talk
about birth control. Why did neither one of us seem concerned with whether or not I got pregnant?
“Tar, where are you going?” Ryan asked as I opened my apartment door.
I looked at him with the thoughts of unprotected lovemaking still in my mind.
“I’m going to see if the mail came,” I quickly answered. He sprang to my side in a few quick steps.
“You’re not going outside, are you?” he muttered under his breath.
“No. Mail slot is in the front door. The mail gets delivered at three thirty.”
“Phew,” he sighed. “Please don’t go out unless you absolutely must. There are too many fans out there right now.”
Inside my door, I saw a larger pile of mail than normal. Lying on top of my mail were cards simply addressed to Ryan Christensen. I shook my
head in disbelief.
He smiled quickly at me when I returned, then resumed his actions with the controller. He and Jason were playing the ninja game, both of them
were swinging and punching their controllers in the air. It was slightly amusing watching them play.
