Текст книги "Love Unrehearsed"

Автор книги: Tina Reber

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Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

“Yeah, but—”

“But nothing. You’re not quitting, so get that out of your head.”

Ryan came outside wearing a pair of shorts and a deep scowl. “Where’s that camera card at?”

I followed him in the house and handed it to him, wondering how much space was required. I mulled it over at the kitchen table before I decided to suck it up and be brave. I knew firsthand the humiliation that came with wearing handcuffs.

He was sitting at his desk in his old bedroom, glaring at his laptop. I noticed he plugged the card reader from our camera bag into the USB port.

“You okay?”

His eyes flashed up to me. “I was arrested for the first time in my fucking life. What do you think?”

“I know the feeling.”

He gave me an angered scowl. I could see a deep purple bruise starting to form under his left eye.

“Want to throw shoes?”

He let out a deep sigh, as if he was pushing all the bad out. His eyes closed for a moment. “No. Don’t want to throw shoes.”

My next words came out on a whisper. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

He huffed again and rubbed his forehead. I took that as an unspoken yes so I turned for the door.

“Tar, wait . . .” He held out his hand. “Come here.” I reached for his offering.

I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding when he pulled me onto his lap. His arms cinched around my body and he buried his face in my neck. I drifted my fingers through his damp hair, pressing him tighter.

“I’m so tired of this, Tar. So freaking tired. Can’t even have a day off without them following us.” He looked up into my eyes. “He came to my parents’ house. My parents. That’s crossing the line.”

I touched the skin below the bruise on his cheek. “I agree.”

“People don’t realize . . . they don’t know how it is to feel stripped of your privacy. All they want are pictures of whoever I’m with or what personal shit I’m doing—as if they have a right to know that. And for what? To see that I’m just like anyone else? Christ, Tar. You got hit by a fucking car because of me.”

I held his face. “That was not your fault. Don’t say that.”

He jerked away. “Yes, it was. That crazy girl was stalking you because of me. Huge boxes of fan mail showing up at your place? Threat letters? What happened in Paris? Nah, I’m not having that anymore. Uh-uh.” I could see him steel his resolve.

One of his arms released me so he could click the mouse. Rows upon rows of pictures dotted the screen. He let out a curse, rubbing his forehead. “He’s been tracking us since as soon as we landed here.

Son of a bitch.”

“Oh my God. Are those from yesterday?”

“Yep. Bastard got shots of my entire family. There’s one with us when I was holding Sarah. Damn it!”

My eyes widened as he continued to page through hundreds more. I felt as if I’d swallowed a rock seeing close-ups of Ryan’s tongue on my breast in the pool. The idiot took so many pictures, it was almost like live action seeing shot after shot of Ryan and me in private, intimate moments. I wanted to puke.

“That’s it. No more. After the third Seaside is filmed, I’m done.”

Chapter 20

Rebound

“He was arrested, Taryn. There’s nothing I can do. His mug shot is public record now,” Trish explained. I didn’t care. It had been four days since the incident; every tabloid and news outlet was circulating and publishing the picture of him bruised and tinged with blood and I wanted them to end.

I hid in the far corner of the bar office to make sure Ryan couldn’t accidentally overhear my conversation, even though the last time I saw him he was still in bed. That was at one o’clock. I was feeling like I was at the end of my rope. “I know. Ryan’s lawyer called. Even if they get the charge dropped the picture is still out there. He’s not taking this very well, Trish.”

She sighed. “I wanted to talk to him, see if he wants me to spin this, but he won’t take my calls. He’s not the first celebrity who’s had their mug shot posted. Either we counter with positive press or just let it naturally blow over, which it will.”

“Yeah well, right now the press is having a field day.” I was starting to pick up Ryan’s forehead-rubbing habit. “Ryan’s lawyer alerted us that the photographer has hired counsel. He’s attempting to sue us for a million. Can you believe the bastard wants us to pay for the lost income he would have made selling pictures of us to the media?”

“I believe it.”

“Ryan’s not himself anymore. This has pushed him into such a depression; I don’t know what to do.

He’s even lost weight. He’s barely eating. All he wants to do is sleep or lie on the sofa. He’s becoming a recluse.”

“Let him have a few days to get it together. His ego has taken a blow.”

I chewed on my fingernail. “This isn’t just about his ego. He says he’s retiring.”

“What?” Trish shrieked. “No. Bad idea. Bad. That will kill his career. Comebacks in this business are hard to make. He’s at the top of his game right now. He pulls out and you can kiss his box-office draw goodbye.”

“Trish, the guy had over a thousand photos of us. The cops found soda bottles filled with pee in the neighbor’s yard. He’d been wearing this camo netting stuff to blend in with the damn tree! Who knows how long he’d been up there.”

“Oh, boy. I’ve heard of him. They call him ‘Fast Freddy.’ He freelances for one of the largest celebrity photo agencies in L.A. He’s the idiot that almost got Bieber into an accident two weeks ago, chasing him down the Santa Monica Freeway for a shot. These guys know no boundaries.”

“They’re like jackals.” I looked at the calendar in my hand, wondering what I could do to get Ryan back into the swing of things.

“Why don’t you two go on vacation? Get out of there for a few days?”

“I’ve suggested it but he doesn’t want to deal with airports or any place that’s public. I told him that hiding is not the answer and that he should show the world he’s fine and doing his thing but it’s like talking to a brick wall. I’ve had reporters and press staked out in my pub since we got back. I have two guys working the door because we’ve been inundated with curious fans. It’s crazy. I need to get him away from here but he refuses to go.”

Trish sighed. “I hate to even bring it up, but I heard about Marla’s latest stunt.”

I took a deep breath, cringing from just hearing that woman’s name. “I don’t know how she thinks she could get away with overcharging us. I’d like to stick her lawsuit up her ass.”

Pete peered around the office door, waving his cell at me. “Tar, Ryan’s calling for you.”

I quickly ended my call with Trish and tucked my cell in my pocket. Ryan refused to set foot in the bar, saying that it caused too many problems for my business for him to be seen. His fans just didn’t know when to quit. It was getting to be assumed that if I was here then he was, too. There were spotters watching out for me now.

Ryan frowned at me when I came through the apartment door. “Why aren’t you answering your cell?”

“I was talking on it.”

“Oh. Who were you talking to?”

“I was dealing with something. Why?”

Shoulders that used to stand tall and firm were hunched as if he’d been defeated. He hadn’t shaved in several days, nor had he done anything more than shower and run a hand through his hair. He had on a torn T-shirt and a pair of threadbare cotton shorts, looking more like a homeless person than a multimillionaire celebrity.

He rubbed his eye with his knuckle. “Nothing. I woke up and didn’t know where you were, that’s all.”

I hated seeing him reduced to this state of despondency. “Are you hungry? You want some lunch?”

He shrugged, shuffling barefoot down the hall to his second-favorite place: the left side of the couch.

I sat next to him and tried to snuggle up. He seemed less agitated when I was under his protective wing. “You still have those pictures of places you wanted to see that you gave me at Christmas?”

He scratched his bare feet together while he flipped through the television channels. “They should still be in the drawer in the bedroom under my T-shirts. Why?”

“I think we should pick one and go someplace. Get the hell out of here for a few days. Fun? Sun? What do you think?”

He took a big sip off one of the many cups of water he had stashed around the apartment. At least in his depression he hadn’t started drinking. “Tar, we talked about this. How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to go anywhere right now? Can’t we just stay put for once? Please babe? I feel as though I’ve been around the world eighty times. I just want to relax.”

He slid into the couch, wedging deeper into his depression.

I understood his desire for taking a break, but this was beyond his normal behavior. He hadn’t been out of the apartment since we got here.

“What ever happened to those sketches you did of our massive home?”

“They’re in my messenger bag. Why?”

I got up, tired of watching him flip through one hundred channels over and over again. I set his drawings next to my laptop and turned on the printer. First thing I searched for was a copper farm sink I saw in a magazine once. I found one that I liked, printed it out, and taped it to another blank page in his tablet. I knew he was watching me so I pretended to ignore him.

Curiosity eventually won out. “What are you doing?”

Trying to get you thinking of other things, like our future. “I found something I wanted to add.”

He leaned on the back of the couch, studying his impressive sketches. “Maybe I’ll go back to college, finish my degree.”

And just like that he frowned.

“Who am I kidding? I can’t go back on an open campus.” He tossed the sketch pad onto the table and moped back to his spot on the couch. I hated this. I hated seeing him so withdrawn. Even our sex life had taken a hit. His passion was gone.

It was time for something drastic. I hurried down the hall, hanging our little DO NOT DISTURB sign on the apartment door so Marie or Mike wouldn’t come in unexpectedly, and took off my clothes in the bedroom.

He at least gave me some attention with a questioning glance when I came back into the living room wearing nothing but my white bikini underwear. I grabbed the remote out of his hand, turned off the television, and straddled him.

“What are you doing?” He breathed out his question with a hint of admonishment, as if me being mostly naked and on his lap needed a reason or clarification.

“I want my Ryan back.”

His lips twisted into a frown, and then his expression rolled into what scarily resembled rejection.

“Talk to me.”

His hands slipped around my hips, tensed, and seemed to push back and up, raising me a smidgen off his crotch. “You had to get naked to talk to me?”

“I figured it was a good way to get your undivided attention. We should be on a beach somewhere having a grand time, making love, having fun, being young, enjoying life. You’ve been so closed down.

You don’t want to talk to me. You barely touch me anymore. It’s scaring me.”

His hands pushed my hips back, a definite sign of his unwillingness to further this conversation. I grasped his forearms, unwilling to let him push me aside.

Desperation clawed at my throat. “Please don’t push me away. Please. I can’t take it anymore.” His despondence was taking its toll on my heart.

He tried to squirm out from underneath me and just like that a new fissure cracked into my patchwork heart. “Ryan, don’t. Oh God, please don’t. You promised me!”

He resigned back into the couch. “What do you want?”

His momentary rejection unnerved me. I’d been down this road once before and I’d be damned if I was going to let history repeat itself. Fucking men giving me false hope and promises that they so easily yanked back when it was convenient. Well fuck that!

“You’re breaking my heart! Don’t you see that? Is that what you want? You want me off of you, pushing me away like that? Is that what you want?” I knew my voice had risen in volume but damn he was pissing me off.

“I just want to chill. That’s it. Is that so hard to understand?”

I glared at him for a moment, shocked at his harsh tone. “Fine. You want to chill, have at it.” I started to climb off his lap but his hands clamped my thighs.

“Where you going?”

“I’m getting off of you and going to live my life. You’re not chilling, you’re rotting away here, letting that shit in your head fester and eat you alive. You don’t want to talk to me, get it out and move forward, then you can sit here and continue to chill on your own. Let me know when you’re done.”

“Stop,” he groaned.

“Why? A second ago you were pushing me off of you.”

He studied me for bit, his eyes scrunched and pained with so much mental poison. “I’m sorry.”

I picked up one of his hands, curling it in my own and pressing it between my exposed breasts, pulling it as close to my heart as it could go. “Don’t be sorry, babe. Talk to me.”

He shook his head, fighting it, not able to find the courage or the words.

“Tell me,” I pleaded softly. He was tight-lipped and scowling. “You said once that a man should own up to his situation. You also said we’d always talk it out. You promised. Talk to me!”

Ryan was so forlorn. “I can’t shut it off. Can’t shake it.”

I placed soft kisses on his fingers, patiently waiting, trying to encourage him to go on.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he said softly but with so much conviction. His eyes drifted downward, landing on my stomach while he pondered. I let him take his time, glad he was at least touching me again.

“You would have been seven months pregnant by now.” His fingers drifted over my flat belly button.

“Oh, honey . . .” I breathed out my warning plea for him not to go there.

“I think about it all the time. I wonder if our daughter would have had our blue eyes or if our son would have taken on some of my traits. What their face might have looked like.”

I wished I could hush his sadness by kissing his skin. “We’ll have beautiful babies . . . when we’re meant to bring them into the world. I promise.”

He tapped the tip of his finger lightly on my tummy, seeming to disagree. “That was our first and I took that from you. My career”—he sneered as if the word was dirty—“took that from us.”

I tipped his chin up, aching from seeing him look so lost. “No. Stop, Ryan. Things happen for a reason.

Things that you have no control over. We would have managed, but we weren’t ready for a baby. We need to be strong together before we bring a child into this world. What happened to me—you can’t take that on your shoulders. You can’t. I won’t let you.”

Ryan disagreed again, stuck in something powerful. “There was so much blood when you lost the pregnancy. I thought you were dying on me.” He bit into his bottom lip while his eyes got watery.

“I’m here.” I nuzzled his hand. “I’m right here, baby.”

He stared at my thigh, tracing an invisible line with his fingertip. “Sometimes I forget how strong you are. Resilient may be a better word. Life keeps throwing you punches and no matter what, you keep getting back up.”

I laced our fingers together. “That’s because I have something worth fighting for. You. A promise of forever. You make me want to be stronger.”

He snorted and squirmed underneath me. “That’s because I’m doing such a bang-up job keeping you safe. What a great job I’ve done.”

I clutched his neck and pressed his shoulders back into the couch. “Stop it. Don’t say that. I have never felt as protected and cared for as I have by you.”

His head swayed, defeated.

“You’re letting them win.”

I combed my hands through his hair, tugging until I had his eyes back on me. I took his mouth with desperate longing, kissing him as if I could break the wicked spell that was pulling him under. “Fight with me,” I breathed on his lips, which seemed to refuse me passion. “Please, baby. I can’t do this without you. I need you. I need you.”

His jaw tensed as the pain he’d been holding in so tightly finally cracked. A soft sob slid up his throat.

“I’m so tired, Taryn,” he croaked, his voice stuttering from trying to keep it in check. But the hurt had nowhere else to go except out. “So tired. All I do is bring us pain.”

A tear slid down his cheek. And then another. I knew it was killing him to show me this much weakness but it all needed to be purged, excised from his system like a soul-sucking demon. Seeing him cry was my undoing. He’d finally succumbed to the pressure and that made me mad.

“No you do not! You are the love of my life and my best friend! No matter what life throws at us, we take the good with the bad, Ryan—the good with the bad. We roll with it because that’s how we roll.”

He pulled me down to his chest, clutching me as if he needed me to get his air back.

I held his head while he buried his face in my neck. “Oh, babe. We’ll get through this. Honey, you know how to fix this. You stopped taking your medicine.”

He frowned, sniffing. “I’m not taking shit, Tar. No pills.”

“Ryan, you’ve tossed your body into confusion. You can’t just suddenly stop taking them.”

“Pills to cope . . . What’s next? Pills to sleep? Pills to keep awake? That’s a sure way to die. You know how much I hate that shit, Tar!”

I held his face in my hands. “Ryan, look at me. I did a lot of research when the doctor put me on antidepressants after the accident. My situation was temporary. You’ve suffered from anxiety attacks for a long time, even before all of this. It’s when you stop taking them that your system gets out of whack.”

Resistance to that slipped over his face. “I don’t want to rely on drugs, Tar. I don’t.”

I wiped his cheeks with my thumbs, erasing the physical evidence of his stress. “Doesn’t matter. You need them. You need to regulate the serotonin. It’s not a sign of weakness, Ryan. And it doesn’t make you any less of a man. It’s a body imbalance, that’s all. There’s no shame in that.”

He closed his eyes. “I tried to work through it on my own but I feel like I can’t shake it. It’s like a never-ending loop. Seeing the disappointment on my father’s face when they put me in that squad car; I know it broke his heart. I did that to him. Me.” Ryan rubbed his palm over the center of his breast plate.

“It presses in on me, right here. Like I have an elephant sitting on my chest. Sometimes it’s hard to breathe.”

“I know, but we can change that. You don’t have an addictive bone in your body, Ryan. You need to take one little pill to regulate your body chemistry. That’s all.”

“Okay,” he whispered, conceding. “I’ll start taking them again. I can’t live like this.”

“I’ll make an appointment for you to see my doctor. We’ll get your smile back. I promise.”

It was Monday. We’d been back in Seaport for two weeks when my birth father called again. Ryan, Mike, Marie, and I were at Seaport’s Sandy Cove Beach enjoying the hot weather and gorgeous day. Ryan and Mike were tossing a football back and forth while from the comforts of our beach chairs Marie and I enjoyed the incredible sights of them shirtless and tan.

It was pure elation seeing Ryan smiling and having a great time. It was like he’d been totally rejuvenated. He was on new medication for hypothyroidism, and the differences were almost night and day.

I waved at Ryan to come over.

He opened the cooler lid, grabbed two bottles of ice-cold water, tossed one at Mike, and used the cooler as a seat. “What’s up?”

“I just talked to Joe.”

Ryan pushed his sunglasses up on his head, looking at me quizzically. “And?”

“He’d like us to come out to Lake Tahoe.”

He made that audible exhale noise, seeming none too pleased with that idea. “I don’t know.”

Okay, so he wasn’t even in the same ballpark with my enthusiasm. We had a silent standoff until Ryan said, “I’ve got to be honest. I’m not seeing the benefit here. The man hasn’t been in your life at all and I’m inclined to keep it that way.”

I was momentarily distracted watching Mike, who was holding his hand out for Marie. I felt my heart flutter just from the look he wore on his face. He tugged her up from her chair and, without saying a word, walked off with her as if she were a prize, holding her hand as he did. I couldn’t help but fall in love watching them enjoying each other, walking in the surf, bumping into each other, Marie gripping on to his muscular arm with both hands. Her beaming up at him and him beaming right back. It was like watching the best part of a love story.

“They make a great couple.”

Ryan glanced over his shoulder and then back to me. “They have what we have.” He smirked.

I smiled. “I know.”

He tossed his chin. “It’s a much better fit for both of them.”

I was so damn happy seeing their love blossoming, it was hard to contain it. “I agree.”

Ryan’s smile fell. “Back to this Joe business. Taryn, I want to trim all the variables off. Things are finally getting back on track for us and I’m not looking to add any crazy onto the pile. You want to meet him, we’ll set it up, but not without me being there. First sign of potential bullshit, I’m pulling you out and we’re on a plane.”

“I want to meet him.”

Ryan chewed on his bottom lip. “Did he come clean with his wife?”

“Yes. He said she was understanding about it and she and the girls want to meet me.”

Ryan nodded before putting me back under his scrutinizing gaze. “This really a road you want to go down?”

I knew he was just trying to shield me from further hurt. “Yes. If I don’t, I’ll always wonder. I need to put that part of me to rest, Ryan.”

He reluctantly agreed. “Okay, if that’s what you need, I’ll get our flights booked.”

I grinned at him. He didn’t need to utter the “I love you” words for me to know how much he did.

“Thank you, babe.”

He dropped his shades back down. “Pete going to be all right managing the bar while we’re gone?”

I reviewed my mental calendar. We had the Teen Choice Awards coming up, and then Ryan had to do some fittings in L.A. for the third Seaside film.

I nodded, quite confident that I’d made the right decision. He’d lost all of the bookings he had for the summer, having to sub out the work to another guy, so he was more than thankful for the job. “He’ll be just fine. He’s been helping me for a long time, so he knows what needs to be done.”

“Tammy seems happier, too.”

I recalled the talk she and I had the other day, ironing out some of our issues. She and Marie were still walking wide circles around each other to avoid confrontations, but for the most part, Marie was over it.

Having Mike tell her to get her ass in his bed every night, even though his bed was my guest bed, was helping to soften Tammy’s betrayal. “We’re going to try serving a limited menu in the pub. See how that works out before we go further. Maybe she’ll name a sandwich after you.”

Ryan rolled his eyes.

I glanced at my cell to see the time. “We’ve got to get going. We meet the builder in two hours.”

Ryan stood, straightened his dog tag necklace—the one with my name written on it so he could “keep me close to his heart at all times”—and tried to see where Mike and Marie had gotten to. “You okay with the addition we talked about?”

I watched Mike whirl Marie around in the surf, and wished Gary could see how much happier she was.

His callousness deserved a bit of retribution. “Is Mike?”

“My head of security needs a command center and I’m thinking I’d sleep better at night knowing your new guardian was conveniently located.”

As much as I loved that idea, he was presuming a lot. “She just took a course, Ryan. Who knows where that will take her.”

His wry grin told me he had info he wasn’t sharing.

“What do you know that I don’t?” I asked, grinning right back at him.

Ryan casually shrugged. “Let’s just say whatever it is we’ve got planned, you two ladies can’t do shit about it.” He held out his hand. “Come on. If you want to meet Joe, we’ve got to book a side trip to Lake Tahoe.”