Love Unrehearsed: A Novel

by Tina Reber

  Ryan’s arm wrapped under my right thigh, spreading me wider across his body. His hips thrust into me so fast it took my breath away. My wetness spurred him on even more.

  “Ah yeah, that’s it. Mmm,” he purred, and rocked me harder. His strong hands cupped around my ass and he began thrusting with renewed vigor. I was starting to see stars and not just of the celebrity kind.

  With a quick roll and swoop, he landed me on my back, slinking down my body so his tongue could slip fervently back and forth once again. Gently, but with deliberate effort, he bit into my flesh, a little nibble here, a little there, into the interior of my thigh, adding pain that only heightened my pleasure. His fingers curled inside me, overloading me with powerful sensations while he flicked his wicked tongue.

  I gasped when he entered me again. He wove his left hand into mine, pausing to kiss my knuckles.

  “Only yours,” he uttered on my lips, then raised my arm above my head, sinking himself deeper with each twist. I felt the incredible happiness from his tender gesture fill my heart and I surrendered myself completely to his will.

  He rolled me on the bed like a hungry croc wearing down its prey, flipping me over and pleasuring me in ways that should be illegal.

  I could feel it coming, that warm rush of orgasmic bliss. He was so deep; his fingers strummed my flesh perfectly. I couldn’t hold on any longer; my body ached for a release. I paused several times to breathe, scrunching my eyes from the sensations coursing through me. I crashed my face into the bedsheets and let the all-consuming orgasm have me.

  After we cleaned up, we nestled together back in bed. Ryan’s chest pressed to my back, his strong, warm embrace holding me. I ran my fingertips over the tendons in his hand, the fine hair on his forearm, dreading the moment when I’d be forced to sleep without him. I kissed his arm, appreciating this moment, thankful that we have this togetherness, right here, right now. I felt the steadiness of his warm breath on my shoulder, as I lay there listening to the sounds of him falling asleep.

  Discussing when I’d go back home would have to wait another day.

  It felt nice to sleep in since Ryan’s day wouldn’t start until almost 10 A.M. While we enjoyed a leisurely morning, I packed my copies of the production agreements and shooting schedules into my newly acquired messenger bag. All of my necessities to keep very occupied were carefully stowed inside.

  Ryan’s set assistant, Paula, was full of energy and very eager to please when we arrived, fetching coffee for both of us. Apparently Mike got special treatment; she had a chocolate-covered éclair stashed just for him. Even Ryan didn’t get an éclair.

  I reviewed the shooting schedule, noting Ryan’s times and the scenes planned for the day, then decided to listen to the messages on the pub’s line.

  Hearing Thomas say my name, twice, was unnerving, as if some cruel joke were being played on my memory, twisting my hatred into longing. Both times he requested I call him, not wanting to tell me the true reason for his calls, only saying it was urgent. The second message had more information. Though still vague, it contained the one word that would get me to call him back—Melanie.

  “The only thing he said was that Mel’s real sick,” I said to Marie. She was getting ready to open the

  pub and interview two people for bartender/waitress positions when I called. “He didn’t say with what.

  Just that there might not be enough time.”

  “Shit. I’ll try calling her mom. I’m surprised she didn’t call me if she was back in town,” Marie said, sounding distracted.

  “When do you go to the lawyer?”

  “Tuesday, one o’clock. You going to be back by then?”

  “Yeah, I’ll make sure of it.”

  I heard her sigh into the phone. “Good. Tammy’s getting really grumpy. I think she’s mad that we’re not helping with their wedding but I’m not exactly sure what we’re supposed to be doing. I talked to her mom about the bridal shower and we figured we could either use the bar or go to a place like Jake’s On The Pier.”

  “I’m coming home soon. I’ll call you when I have my flight info.” I’d have to tell Ryan tonight.

  We were driven back to our condo by one of the set drivers, with Mike, as always, in the front seat. I presumed he’d be coming in with us to do his quick security sweep, so I was surprised when he hurried us along and left the minute the lights in our condo were on.

  “That was weird. So where is he off to in such a hurry?”

  Ryan shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  I could tell he was keeping something from me. I smiled at his bad fib while watching him change into a pair of sweats. “Sure you do. He’s been disappearing a lot. Why won’t you tell me?”

  Ryan sighed and then gave in. “Because you’ll probably get pissed and I will never lie to you, so . . .”

  Shit. After that comment, it’s too late for him to hold back now. I traded jeans for my favorite yoga pants. “Who is she?”

  “Who is who?”

  Yeah, now’s not the time to play ignorant, mister.

  He huffed. “Paula, my set assistant.”

  I pictured her clearly. My height—five-sixish. Thin. Cute and spunky with short jet-black hair cut blunt at her chin. An inch-wide electric blue streak painted in her hair. Black framed glasses that gave her that naughty librarian look. “This isn’t their first date, is it?”

  Ryan gave me a look that said he wasn’t denying it.

  “Wonderful. Marie’s going to be devastated.”

  Ryan groaned as I walked out of our bedroom. “He’s just been taking her out to dinner, Tar.”

  “For all you know. And he’s also been calling Marie every day, filling her with hope.” I felt my disappointment come on like a burn. “I knew it. And I warned him, too.”

  I heard Ryan curse as he followed me down the stairs. “Look, he likes Marie a lot. Trust me. But that isn’t happening for him right now, so what is he supposed to do? Quit living?”

  I couldn’t stop my swell of anger, knowing how torn-up Marie was just from all the crap Gary was putting her through. “I just wish he’d kept his tongue out of my best friend’s mouth. This is going to tear her heart out for sure.”

  Ryan followed me into the kitchen. “So he kissed her. It’s not like he pledged his undying love to her.”

  “I get that, Ryan. That’s not the point. He said he wanted to be updated on what’s going on in her life.

  He not only said that to her, he said it to me in private. You don’t make that step and then date your boss’s set assistant. You just don’t. He could have kept his distance but he made a choice knowing she

  was extremely vulnerable at the time. And the daily phone calls? You can’t do that kind of stuff to girls.

  She let him in even though she had brick walls up and now this is going to mess with her head even more.”

  Ryan put his long legs up on the couch, tangling them with mine. “I get it. Why do you think it took me weeks before I kissed you? I could have had my lips all over yours the very first day I met you, but I didn’t.”

  Yeah right. “No you couldn’t have.”

  His confident look said otherwise. “I could have and you know it. But I didn’t want to rush into anything. Not with you. Kissing complicates things. I took it slow because I wanted you to know me, really know me, before we got physical. So I understand that them kissing has made Marie have feelings beyond friendship.”

  I climbed over his legs and curled up on his chest. “I know you.”

  Ryan shifted, getting us comfortable. He kissed my forehead. “I know.”

  My thoughts swirled. “Apparently those feelings beyond friendship aren’t strong enough for Mike to abstain since he’s on a date with another woman.”

  Ryan groaned. “You’re blowing this out of proportion. You don’t know that.”

  I nuzzled into his chest and closed my eyes. “Well, what I do know is that as long as he’s picking dates from the production crew, I want him to
stay far away from my best friend.”

  Ryan rested a hand on my rear. “Don’t you think it’s up to them to decide that?”

  “No,” I growled on his skin. “I’m deciding for her because I won’t let her heart get broken by another idiot. Mike had his chance and he blew it. I hope he and Paula are happy together.”

  That got me a swat on the rear, followed by a squeeze. “Now you’re just being grumpy.”

  I ran my fingertips over the defined dip in his chest. “Disappointed is more like it. After what Marie’s been telling me that he’s been whispering in her ear when they talk, I thought he considered her to be something special. But apparently she must have misunderstood.”

  He lifted my chin up and glared at me.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” I said. “He’s the one out on a date with someone else. I’m serious. I will not allow anyone to hurt her again. Gary never treated her right, which leads me to something else we need do discuss.”

  He tipped up an eyebrow.

  “My best friend needs me to come home.”

  I began missing Ryan terribly the moment my airplane taxied down the runway. It had been almost a month since I’d been home, but everything seemed to right itself the moment I saw my makeshift family waiting for me in the airport. God, how I missed my friends. I didn’t realize how much until I saw their faces light up.

  Pete snatched me up first, lifting me off the ground. “’Bout time you got your ass back home. Missed ya, kid.”

  I hugged and kissed Tammy and then wrapped my arms around Marie’s neck. It wasn’t until we piled into Tammy’s Camry that I sensed some tension between her and Marie. Marie had asked her a question but Tammy ignored her, which prompted Marie to appear disheartened.

  Walking up the steps to my apartment felt familiar but somewhat strange, since I hadn’t been there for a few weeks. Tammy pulled some aluminum baking pans out of the pub kitchen before following us up

  the steps.

  “I thought you’d be hungry so I made my fried chicken that you love so much,” Tammy announced. I turned and hugged her. God I loved them all so much.

  I spotted a few boxes in my living room and presumed they were Marie’s. “Were you able to get some of your stuff from the house?”

  Marie shook her head. “No. Gary won’t let me in the house.” She pointed at two black garbage bags. “I went over there the other day and found those sitting on the side porch. It’s mostly winter clothes and stuff I don’t wear.”

  I growled, aggravated enough for the both of us. “What do you mean he won’t let you in the house?

  Did he lock you out?”

  Marie shrugged. It was obvious that all this stress was taking its toll on her. “It will get straightened out.”

  I was surprised she didn’t just kick the door in. “I called the bank and verified that they change the routing for your automatic deposit to your new account. Did you get your paycheck?”

  She nodded.

  “What about the check from the fifteenth?”

  Marie massaged her temples. “Went into our joint account. I pulled two hundred out at the ATM and he called me bitching about owing him money for bills. I guess the money is his until the lawyers sort it out.”

  I quickly ran some numbers in my head. “So basically you have the shirt on your back, your winter clothing in a few garbage bags, and five hundred bucks.”

  Marie’s face crinkled and big, fat tears pooled in her eyes.

  I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. I’d never seen her this defeated—ever. “Don’t worry. We will figure this out. I’ll see if the bank can reverse the last deposit. And you’re staying here. No ifs, ands, or buts about that. We’ll get the spare room cleaned out and there’s storage in the basement.”

  Marie leaned her head on my shoulder. Thankfully, she had an appointment to see her lawyer.

  No matter what, I’d make sure she’d get her smile back.

  It took exactly one week for the first indiscretion to hit the front cover of the gossip magazines. To say Marie was livid was putting it mildly. Her initial reaction of “What the fuck?” near the cash register in our local Whole Foods market had a few heads turning. When she continued with “that son of a” and a slew of other breathy expletives strung together into one long, creatively formed curse word, people started to gawk.

  Marie glared at me. “You know about this?”

  Fuck.

  She slapped the paper down on the rubber conveyor belt. “Tar?”

  I gave her my most innocent, compassionate look, knowing I had broken the best friend code.

  “You want to explain this to me? Why I’m looking at this?”

  No, not really. I continued to empty the cart, stalling for an answer. “I don’t know. All I know is they went out to eat together after Ryan wrapped for the day.”

  She stared at me, incredulously. “And you didn’t think it was important to tell me?”

  I knew she was mad at me or at the very least, disappointed. Hell, if the situation were reversed, I’d be angry, too. And hurt. “And tell you what, sweetie? That he had dinner with another person?”

  She glared at the cover. Big, bold letters announced that Ryan’s newfound tryst had been stolen out from under him by none other than his bodyguard. Supposedly this is why I left Vancouver. “I can’t believe I fell for this. Again! Unbelievable. Son of a . . . Who is she?”

  “Ryan’s set assistant.”

  “Whore.”

  I winced at her anger, hating that I knew he was dating someone else. But I hated lying to her even more. “It was dinner. A bunch of people went out.” Acid burned in my stomach. All that time I trusted Mike. I trusted him to be one of the good guys. I couldn’t break her heart all over again, telling her the truth. I wanted to punch the front cover and tear it to shreds. “Apparently Ryan’s cheating, too.” I handed it back to her.

  Marie smashed the magazine back on the end cap, much to the obvious displeasure of the cashier.

  “Talked to him last night,” she said ruefully.

  “And?”

  She shrugged. “He failed to mention he was a lying scumbag who’s dating Ryan’s assistant.” Marie opened up her purse. “I cannot believe I fell for his sweet bullshit. God, I’m so damn gullible.”

  I set the bags of apples and grapes on the belt next. “Who are you calling?”

  “Cheating bastard bodyguard. Going to tell him he can go fuck himself.”

  I snatched her phone right out of her hand. “You don’t want to do that.”

  “Why? Give me that back.”

  “No. It was dinner. Mike’s been with Ryan every night since. They are attached at the hip. And you just filed for a divorce an hour ago so you’re not in a good place right now to make that call.”

  Marie grabbed another magazine. “Look at this. According to this one you’re pumping Ryan full of drugs.”

  “What?” I snatched it from her hand, feeling the blood rush from my head from seeing another outlandish headline.

  Another celebrity tragedy in the making? Seaside’s Ryan Christensen fighting addiction to prescription drugs

  Seems Ryan Christensen is set to follow in the footsteps of numerous celebrities who have fallen prey to the lures of prescription drugs. CV has learned that Ryan has been taking several different medications to combat depression. “The pressure is getting to him,” says one insider. Sources also say that Ryan’s new fiancée, barkeep Taryn Mitchell, isn’t helping. “She openly enables him, often encouraging him to drug up before public appearances. Everyone can see it. If he doesn’t get help soon, this could turn tragic.”

  “What the hell?” I felt my fury roll in like a tsunami.

  Marie grabbed the pages, reading the small article.

  I grabbed my cell and started a text to Ryan. “Oh my God. This is bad. Bad, bad, bad.”

  “Call me asap”

  My cell chimed. I opened Ryan’s text.

  “working what up?” />
  I texted back.

  “CV mag says I’m pushing drugs on you and Marie is not happy about cover of Starr”

  “Drugs? cover? wtf”

  “Mike and Paula”

  “call me now”

  This was not a conversation to have while paying for groceries.

  “2 minutes?”

  “ok-love you”

  “Love you more”

  I shoved my phone back in my pocket.

  “Ryan freaking Christensen,” Marie groaned. “He’s a megastar. You’d think he’d have better friends.”

  The fact that she was lamenting over Mike and not about filing for a divorce from Gary was, I thought, a good thing.

  “All I know is that they went to dinner. I’d talk to him before you get further bent out of shape. You of all people should know that those mags are nothing but poison.”

  She grabbed the magazine again and opened it up to the pictures inside. “His hand is on her back, Tar.

  He told me he was bored. That lying sack of shit. All the same; every one of them. Cheaters, liars, scum-fucking assholes.”

  When we got to the car, Marie flopped her little body into the passenger seat. “Are you ever going to give me my phone back?”

  I snapped my seat belt on. “You going to refrain from jumping to conclusions and making a call you might regret?”

  She held out her hand. “I promise I won’t call him.”

  I dug it out of my purse just as Ryan called on mine.

  “What’s this message about drugs?” I could tell he was keeping his tone low.

  “CV magazine has a write-up that you’re taking antidepressants, hon. How would they find that out?”

  “Whatever. Just about every person I know takes them.”

  “No, not ‘whatever.’ It said that an insider told them I force you to drug up before public appearances.

  What the hell, Ryan?”

  “They printed that?”

  “Yes. There are only a select few that know you take medicine for anxiety. Your parents don’t even know. This is not public knowledge.” I glanced over at Marie, knowing she knew about Ryan’s medical condition.