Love Unscripted

by Reber, Tina

  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-me-downs. 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 em
pty 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.”